Flameborn, however, wasn't idle at all.
While Aaron claimed lives among the soldiers at the southern flank, carving through their ranks with shadowed precision, Flameborn dominated the northern front.
His massive form loomed like a living eclipse against the starry backdrop, wings casting long, ominous shadows over the asteroid field.
The air around him shimmered with intense heat, the void itself seeming to warp from the raw power radiating off his obsidian scales.
With a single, sweeping swipe of his claws, each talon as long and sharp as a cruiser's prow, Flameborn struck down dozens of soldiers at once.
Their armored bodies crumpled under the impact, suits rupturing in sprays of frozen blood that glittered like shattered rubies in the cold vacuum.
Screams echoed silently, faces twisted in agony as life ebbed away, leaving limp forms drifting aimlessly among the debris.
