There is a brief moment, before the clash, that lives between fear and certainty. Push through.
"How did they find me? Every direction I turn, there they are. The beady phosphorescent red eyes of the Hobgoblins fill in the darkness around me. I look for cover, but more infernal machines teleport in, blocking my path.
"I'm outnumbered. Perhaps my luck has run out.
"They inch closer in pairs. Two by two they prepare to disintegrate me.
"There is still more for me to do. More heads to break.
"My weapon charges. I breathe in.