"AARRRGHHHH!"
The Symbiarch released a guttural, wrathful scream as its final blow crushed the last of the machines into a heap of twisted metal.
The seven towering automatons, forged from alloys harder than steel, had fought with mechanical precision and relentless firepower. Yet, even that was not enough. Now they were nothing more than scattered fragments beneath the champion of the Myceliarchy.
The battle had not come easily. The air still shimmered with the aftermath of plasma beams, and the creature's body bore the evidence of a fierce struggle, blackened wounds, cauterized flesh, and an entire arm burned away.
Yet the monster endured. Its thick, fungal musculature flexed, closing the open wounds and stopping the hemorrhage, a living testament to the grotesque vitality that flowed through it. Its glowing red eye flared with hatred as it turned its gaze toward the horizon, back to its true quarry.
