The hall reverberated with the chilling screams of the trio, their desperate cries swallowed whole by the inferno Alex had unleashed. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the crackling of dying embers and the steady drip of water from unseen crevices. Alex, his face a mask of grim determination, didn't allow himself a moment of respite. He knew this was merely the opening act of a far grander performance.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, he transformed the Wrath's sword back into its firearm form. As he aimed, the single gun in his hand shimmered and duplicated, becoming two.