The Locus's roar resonated through the air, momentarily paralyzing everyone present. The creature loomed menacingly just meters away. Its four arms waved erratically in the air, its compound eyes reflecting the scene before it.
Elio, still on the ground where he had fallen when Marcus's henchmen released him, struggled to combat hypoxia. The pain from the blows received and the lack of oxygen clouded his mind. His lungs burned, desperate to process the air in the city's rarefied atmosphere. Each inhalation was agony, every movement a titanic effort.
Fortunately for Elio, the Locus seemed more attracted to the humans in motion than to the nearly motionless one on the ground.
Marcus and his henchmen, caught between shock and fear, instinctively retreated. Their level 4 and 5 armor gleamed under the sunlight, their supposed superiority seeming insignificant in the face of the fear of being captured.