Elliot let out a laugh, not a manic one, but something raw and almost desperate, filled with the intoxicating relief of a man who had finally found his purpose.
For months, he had carried the gnawing guilt of a coward who had chased personal mastery while his city bled; now, standing in the center of a screaming hellscape with Apollo at his back, that guilt was incinerated.
"This is it!" he roared, his voice cracking with adrenaline. "This is what we trained for!"
His blade erupted in a blinding corona of Heroic Strike energy as he plunged forward, the fourth defensive line buckling like rotted wood under the combined pressure of his fury and Apollo's relentless advance.
While the center of the corridor became a churning vortex of golden light and demonic screams, Evelyn Astralight moved through the chaos like a ghost woven from starlight.
