The so-called 'True body' of the legion of puppets pulled its fist from within the chest cavity of the latest ant to fall to the legion's wrath. Black blood, which had surfaced to protect the body from the impact, gradually retreated back underneath its skin.
They had intended for the blow to send the ant flying away, but this one's body seemed considerably more weak than expected. Whilst it was freeing its fist, the legion was also shooting through three more ants as Manticore spikes and cleaving the arm off of another with a steel edged feather.
The legion was having trouble remembering why it was fighting, it had spent so long losing itself in the thrill of combat, that it had utterly forgotten why it was doing this in the first place. It had already sacrificed parts of its body for this fight, spikes had shattered and feathers had snapped in half, yet it couldn't remember why...
{Father...}
