SYMBIOSIS. NOT PREDATION. NEVER PREDATION, O WARY ONE MINE.
What the weapon looks like:
The driving bass line of a classic song from Old Earth drove their prey before them. No less than a half-dozen wyverns snarled and clawed at the trio as they stabbed and blasted their way through the wilds of Mars.
Praedyth wished hard. Wished it would never end.
Alongside him, Kabr was a towering giant. An awoken-made weapon roared in his hands and in his head.
Pahanin was a force, a living embodiment of the Void. Where he pointed, Ahamkhara died.
In the middle, between them, Praedyth smiled. A winged and scaled lion with a boar’s tusks leapt at him, and he could swear he saw the thing wink at him as he tore it apart.
Beneath the song, Praedyth heard static, like a comm signal. best not to think about it.
Praedyth wished again, and the hunt went on.