The remaining Saints launched toward the rift like moth to flame, attacking one another in a brutal free-for-all, each trying to cripple their competition before they could get close.
Those in the lead bore the brunt of the chaos—assaulted from behind, dodging incoming strikes, all while racing toward the rift.
The sky trembled, and the ocean evaporated en masse, beneath their clash.
Then finally, the familiar gnome from earlier reached the rift, his face lit with glee.
Without hesitation, he stepped forward... into it?
A projectile sliced past the Saints behind, with such ferocity and speed that most were barely able to dodge its path. The air around it trembled violently from the force of its passage.
It stopped mid-air, hovering a short distance away. Slowly, heads turned.
The gnome, standing frozen a distance away from the Saints and the rift, completely ignored the probing stare of other Saints on him, staring at the rift with a dark, brooding expression.
---
