A living, pulsating mass spewed out from the black maw of the breach. Enormous bats—unnaturally huge, with leathery wingspans of over a meter—flung themselves outward. A black river flowing against gravity, against logic, against creation itself. They battered the men’s faces with taut, cold webbing, hooked their claws into the plastic of their helmets, and tore their clothes to shreds. A real, physical wind arose, sending the light of their headlamps thrashing across the walls in ragged flashes
