What more is there to say? Arguing any more would cause a brawl, and you don’t plan on getting caught and killed because you pissed Modd off. Pausing mid-climb, you answer your fellow assholes with a weary groan. You weren’t planning on any heroic sacrifices, you just wanted to make sure your escape route was cl-

“Yea, yea… Go to Hell, you idiot.”

Two pairs of claws boost you over the edge of the trench and onto the dried-out scrub above. No time to dilly-dally–scrambling for the nearest cover you can find, the best you can do is a chunk of vine-covered masonry: a chunk of ruins those bug-eyed bastards were drooling over.

Wonder what the previous tenants would think of you now… ready to blow each other to Hell and back over their old patio?

Modd and Zaan are up and over before you know it–no big feat considering they aren’t carrying a bomb big enough to send the whole mountain ridge back to Mitaar.

“Hells…” Grunts Modd as he squeezes in next to you behind your flimsy cover, “They’ve got more than just Constructs down in that camp, Zaan, you godsdamned moron.”

“Dregs, I know.” Zaan hisses as he steals a quick peek out from behind the rubble. “Magicless Chytree… guess they found a use for ‘em after all.”

Better than how they usually treat ‘em, you reply with a callous shrug. Won’t have to worry about class differences where they’re headed. With no more quips in your collective repertoire, the three of you get to work unpacking and arming the bomb–Modd’s on anchor duty, Zaan checks the primer, and you, well… you prepare the trigger enchantment.

Useful bit of magic, that.

Before you can finish, the hill overlooking the Conjuring Camp is rocked by something big–bigger than the giants, Hells, bigger than Modd’s little sister! You and Zaan exchange a few nonverbals before switching off as the air above the camp grows thick with the scent of ozone, ash…

… and blood. Stale blood.

That’s when you feel it: an uncanny, almost primal fear grips your bones as a rush of magical energy ripples across the battlefield that chills you to your very core! Sensing something amiss, your comrades join you to investigate!

“Oad’s Waves…” Sputters Modd under his heavy breath, “What in the Hells are they conjuring!?”

Jagged fissures spread across the trenches with the Conjuring Camp acting as an epicenter! A rain squall beats down upon your helmet with renewed fervor as you see something forming in the center of the camp like a fetus in an egg:

Something big.

Modd and Zaan stand in silent horror as you reach down to the DISRUPTER BOMB at your side…

And activate the countdown.

>CONTD.