New York
The clones fell one by one.
Greta's chains burned red-hot, wrapping around torsos and tearing limbs apart. Boris roared, his claws ripping through throats and spines, blood matting his golden fur as he tore another clone's face off with his teeth. Vulpina flickered between shadows, striking vital points with her claws, leaving trails of dissolving black blood behind each kill. Fowler knelt, hands trembling, light gathering in his palms before releasing radiant bursts that vaporised any clone it touched.
The street was littered with broken bodies, smoking blood, and cracked pavement glowing faintly under the city's ruined lights. The clones tried to stand again, twitching with corrupted regeneration, but Vulpina stabbed them through the heart before they could rise. Boris tore apart a cluster of four in one sweep, their bodies folding in half like wet paper.
