It was an escape, not just from the battle, but from the war itself, from the squalor and the endless, mindless conflict. He had seen enough carnage to last several lifetimes, and the sight of that swirling vortex offered a tantalizing promise of something… else.
He moved with a surprising agility, weaving through the chaos. Ratmen, driven by their primal instincts, clawed and scrambled past him, oblivious to his change of direction. Their single-minded focus on destruction was his greatest advantage. He was a ghost among them, a shadow slipping through the cracks of their frenzied advance. The remnants of his once-proud armor clinked softly beneath his tattered cloak, a faint counterpoint to the cacophony of war.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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