He heard her shout to his friend, then looked to both, time slowing as his own sense of speed began to kick in. All things considered, he had only seconds to react. Less than that, in fact. His closest Echo was still engaged into finally taking down, beheading in fact, a rubric marine, but was close enough for a last ditch tactic. And with a force of will did the Nephilim lord project himself through his echo, both increasing his speed enough to slingshot both himself toward Mary’s position and the echo toward Kitharsis. The Nephilim Lord collided with her in a flash, yanking her from the ground in a hurtling tackle just in time to pull them away from the pierce of the tendril with instants to spare. Protectively, if not instinctively, he cradled her as they skidded and tumbled across the floor, pushing off a heel to whirl them to a girding stop. At the moment both boots firmly planted to ground, a handful of echoes swirled from out of Danyael, creating a perimeter defense around his ward as he set Mary down into their care and turned to face the battle in a single spin.
At the same time did the echo slam into Kitharsis, only a moment prior shouting “Kith, brace!”, crashing into him with enough force to launch him free, putting itself directly in place to catch the full force of the explosion, incinerating the echo in a fraction of a second.
Unsheathing the yamato in a wheeling spin of the wrist, he held blade and sheathe, reverse gripped in respective hands, prepared for the coming engagement. But not before he took notice of the energies sweeping towards the focal point of the pillar. But his own sight did he see the kaleidoscope of vibrant hues and flashes of multi-chromatic energies. And then there was the pillar itself. By his own sight did he see it as the fulcrum point of hollow black enswathed in radiant gold, the event horizon to a far less beautiful function. Attuned to the warp in his own way, the Nephilim Lord, without looking over his shoulder, addressed Mary promptly. “The more damage we do, the worse a situation we put ourselves in. Seraphs, Rubrics, our own marines. Whoever falls, whatever falls, runs the risk of being swallowed whole by that,” he nodded in the direction of the pillar. He could feel the pull, not like a vacuum, but a different form of gravity, more akin to a chain and anchor, the pull and the pillar itself respectively. “It’s ravenous. And we’re giving it what it wants.”
The remaining echoes continued the onslaught, but instead, now noticing that something was oddly more apparent to the nephilim lord himself, opted for use of an alternative combative style. They didn't go the for kill, but rather instead, now sheathing their weapons of light and shadow, fought with hardened , crystaline boned fists. They would beat them back, fists by fists and heel by heel. And given the lingering direness of the situation did the echoes ramp up their ferocity in combat prowess.
