"Shit!" Ganta jumped back with a terrified face and reached into her pocket. "Drakaina! Here! RUN!"
All of the gnomes couldn't sense what she sensed, and they were too late to react. A fraction of a second later, tens of them screamed in pain as waves of shadows danced around their bodies, ripping their souls to pieces. A cacophony of agonized screaming and dying moans filled the caves, signaling the end of a long war of attrition.
How did she find them? Was it Ganta's fault? That didn't matter anymore. What mattered now was that she was now locked here with them. She'd die here with the gnomes. Out of all the scenarios of her death that she imagined, this wasn't one of them.
That's why Ganta was willing to take a risk, put everything on the line one last time, and try to rewrite history, even if no one would survive to tell her tale.
