Amidst the desolation of the battlefield, mountains of devil corpses surrounded Lenny and Allison, a testament to the ferocity of their fight. The slain bodies, stacked haphazardly, formed grotesque hills of flesh and broken limbs, painting a gruesome picture under the dim sky.
It was as if the very ground they lay upon had turned into a macabre tapestry woven from the remains of their adversaries.
Lenny, his once white hair now a deep, blood-red hue, cradled Allison in his arms. Both of them were covered from head to toe in the blood of the devils they had vanquished, their naked forms almost merging with the carnage that surrounded them.
The blood that coated them was slowly drying, turning darker with each passing moment, marking them as victors in a battle most would find unimaginable.