The Sentinels' forcefield shattered on impact.

Hundreds of Crows, with their deadly beaks and metre-long feathered wings rippling in their wakes, dived from above. The sky blacked out for several seconds. Chilling alien shrieks emanated from their throats. The Shifters descended so rapidly that the Sentinels' alarm, a pulsing underground throb, started only after they crashed through the shield.

The Sentinels didn't remain caught off guard for long. They fell into formation. The first wave of Shifters turned into Morphlings and leapt at them. Overlarge, mutated animals charged at the armoured humanoids. Their screams escalated into a cacophony, sending shivers down Tora's spine. These were the same species that attacked the Seekers in the shopping centre. It was only from the other point of view that Tora could appreciate how each step was filled with raw energy, charged with whole disregard for their own rotting bodies. Their teeth were jagged and overlapped each other without a shred of elegance – which only served to increase their deadliness.

The Sentinels pulled out their shields. Rhino-like Morphlings slammed into them, cracking some of the defence. Snow and dirt flew into the air. Ape-like creatures leapt over their backs, the mutated claws outstretched and aiming for the eyes. Yells of pain came from the second-line Sentinels as blood spurted from beneath their helmets. The Shifters dug their claws through the gaps in the visors, tearing and gouging.

Without warning, a crack of lightning crashed through the cloudless midday sky and struck the ground, sending several Morphlings flying through the air, their bodies turning into dust, which then dissipated.

"What the...?" muttered Tora, straining her eyes.

The hit left a charred circle on the ground, surrounded by puddles. In the middle there stood a Sentinel, a curved staff held in the air. Crackles of pale blue electricity danced off the weapon. He pointed a staff at the newly-reformed shield wall erected by his men. Another snap of lightning smashed towards the ground, striking the metal shields. It coursed through the wall of Sentinels and turning the Morphlings in contact into a cloud of dust.

Another Morphling, in the shape of a heavyset big cat, leapt over its fellows into the air. Its fur was matted and streaked with grey and black on dark brown. Its eyes were mismatched; its mouth gaped from ear to ear, showing thin needle-like teeth. At the same time, the nearby Morphlings all vanished.

A shimmering dust coloured the air. For a fleeting second, the battlefield turned into a shimmering kaleidoscope of colours.

The sky-borne big cat Morphling morphed briefly into Azyazel's Shifter shape – a surprisingly stumpy form Tora had seldom seen – before he resumed his typical flame-haired Embirite appearance. Hidden wings spread from his back and carried him higher.

Two balls of flames erupted from his hands and shot down to earth.

An explosion shook the ground, incinerating the Sentinels in a five metre radius and sending those further away to their knees.

Tora swallowed. Seeing a mass battle like this was bringing up old memories of waging wars against countless other realms. Each one had been exhilarating and made her feel alive. Seeing the clashes and energy filling the air sent her pulse racing.

The smoke cleared. Azyazel remained airborne, circling with fireballs in his hands. Below, the Shifters who had contributed to the Faes of the Green dust cloud rose as Watermongers, their crystalline skin protecting them from the heat blast. At their feet lay the singed remains of the Sentinels, soaking from the melted snow and ice.

Azyazel rained fireballs onto the ground. The remaining Sentinels attempted to dodge or deflect most. The flames hit the ground with a sizzle, leaving a small puddle in its place. Within several seconds, the surrounding area was ankle-deep in melted snow. En masse, the Watermongers dissolved into the water.

The pools pulsed, as if alive. Nearby half-melted snow trickled over like they were attracted by some magnetic force. Overhead, Azyazel continued his steady stream of flames. Steam filled the air. The water level rose along with it beyond the Sentinels' ankles. They muttered amongst themselves in unease. A few gestured their weapons at the sky, contemplating attacking Azyazel.

A nearby Sentinel, likely of a higher rank, barked an order. He raised his arm and pointed at the Embirite. The Sentinel holding the lightning staff nodded and lifted it in the air.

A crack of thunder sounded from nearby. Azyazel lifted his head and dived out of the way in time. Lightning slammed through the air. Azyazel continued to career downwards, struggling to right himself with his aflame wings.

On the ground, the water sucked into a sphere – and exploded.

Spikes pierced through the armour of nearby Sentinels. Yells of pain filled the air. Tora frowned. Ice? Blood poured onto the ground, turning the puddles and snow crimson. The spikes' outlines pulsed and moulded into the shape of limbs. Webbed fingers sprouted from the end. The grey-blue solidified into crystalline skin covered in glittering scales.

Water splashed onto the floor. The Shifters, in Watermonger forms, straightened, their skins gleaming in the sunlight. Webbed ears twitched atop their heads. They snarled, long, needle-like teeth glistening with saliva.

They withdrew their limbs with a jerk. The nearby struck Sentinels gasped and collapsed, dead.

Their comrades roared. Raising weapons, they charged at the Shifters. The bladed weapons gored through the bodies, but the Shifters only burst into a gush of water and reformed, unharmed. Amongst them, a particularly vicious Watermonger ripped through the Sentinels, forcibly tearing off their armour and shearing off flesh. Piricca might outwardly look just like her troops, but she single-handedly floored forty Sentinels in one rushing attack.

Body parts hit the ground. Blood pooled, adding to the growing puddle of red and brown. The Watermongers used this to their advantage. Crystalline body shapes danced in and out of the surface of the water, striking groups of unaware Sentinels. Every time a weapon perforated the Watermongers' liquid forms, they would just explode in a burst of water and rain onto the ground – to reappear elsewhere in the pool to strike another target.

The stench of Sentinel blood hung thick in the air, making Tora gag even from her distance. The bitter scent clung to the back of her throat, making bile swirl at the bottom of her stomach.

Not too far away, the crevice around which the Sentinels were most concentrated showed movement. As planned, more Sentinels were drawn out by the Shifters' attack. Tora swallowed. Their numbers had increased by more than tenfold since the last time she faced them.

But the Shifters had also grown, not only in numbers but also in forms.

The next wave of Shifters turned into Morphlings and rampaged into the enemy, scattering them from the crevice and into the growing pool of water. The Watermongers waiting there emerged and dragged them underneath. Blood blossomed outwards from where they disappeared beneath the surface. The ones that avoided the trap attacked the Morphlings with their weapons. Thick armours withstood the jaws and claws, but the greater number in Shifters soon crushed them beneath hooves and paws. Weapons splintered against the girths. Bones shattered on impact.

The Sentinel with the lightning staff hesitated. Despite the Shifters focusing on him to prevent further lightning strikes, he held his own, his staff crackling with electricity. Dancing on nimble feet to avoid puddles, he swerved out of congoing attacks and shot pulses of energy at the Shifters as they missed. He pointed his staff at the monsters. There was a sizzle followed by a flash of electricity, which tore through all the standing Shifters. They screamed and convulsed – and exploded into steam.

Panting, the Sentinel planted the end of the staff to the ground. A shockwave erupted from the base. Tora winced as ear-piercing screams filled the air. Watermongers within ten metres hit the floor, stunned, fitting.

The Sentinels seized the chance, leaping to the downed demons, weapons drawn. The Shifters that avoided the shock by turning airborne pecked at the Sentinels from the sky, to little effect. Vulnerable, the incapacitated Watermongers could only shriek as the Sentinels ended their lives.

A second and third Sentinel came into view, wielding weapons more dangerous-looking than those held by the pawns.

On cue, Piricca, in the form of a serpentine Morphline, snapped from lying amongst the dead. The nearest Sentinel raised his hand. Piricca's attack glanced off an invisible wall.

No – not quite invisible. A shimmering, domed wall, suspiciously familiar, stood in front of the Sentinel.

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