Sunless always attacked with restraint, always leaving targets wounded rather than dead, leaving the others to finish them off.
"Finish them off, they are almost dead." He muttered, with a cold, heart-clenching voice.
The families had learned to trust his tactical assessments. Equipment drops from his demon kills had transformed soccer moms and high school students into competent fighters.
CRASH!
Four lesser demons breached the residential barricades simultaneously.
Sunless met their charge with movements that defied physics.
SLICE! SLICE! SLICE! SLICE!
Four precise strikes left four demons at the brink of death, writhing on the lawns.
"Now," Sunless commanded. "Strike while they're disabled."
The survivors moved with confidence earned through survival.
...
Back in Detroit, Arthur stood near the dimensional rift, his mind growing through his next plans. Despite being next to a rift that was claiming millions of lives around the world, Arthur didn't seem to care.
