The sky was burning, a dark red light spilling over all that could be seen. Gigantic obsidian spikes pulsated with the glow, as if they had become living things, hearts made of black stone. The earth rumbled constantly, footing become unstable even though the pavement was relatively smooth. Tyrants were nearby. Out of sight, but still, nearby.

They had to get higher. For all the supernatural effects that the black miasma imparted, it was still heavier than air, a substance that would naturally descend. With front entrance of a multi-story building blocked off, all the men could do was balance precariously on one of the slabs of obsidian that diagonally penetrated their destination. The oldest amongst them, sure footed despite the looming threat and the possibility of detection, marched on. Behind, one man slipped, his worn-down sole sliding on the smooth material. His partner reached out, one hand hooking onto the fabric of his thick coat, but it was too late, and that man was too heavy.

A scream broke out instinctively, the fear of death overcoming rationality. With a crumpling snap, he struck the ground, his femurs breaking into each other.

And he still lived, agonized groans escaping from clenched teeth.

The rumbling increased in volume, hyenas descending upon injured prey.

Steely eyes glanced over his remaining men, gauging their resolve, their will to live, before the older scavenger pressed on. They were already too far up to make it down in time once more. Regardless of how close they would be to the Tyrants attracted by the pain of their fallen comrades, they had no option but to continue their ascent.