The Bladedancers deride us as slow. The Gunslingers say we lack precision. "How is that better than a knife?" "How is that better than a flaming pistol?" Well. My boots sink inches into the ground with every step. My rebreather filters the stench out of the air, but my eyes sting like I'm showering with battery acid. "We're almost there," my Ghost chirps. My jaw clenches. I know we're almost there, Little Light. This vile marsh opens to reveal a black cave's maw. Inside, an infinite number of little green eyes flicker like bad stars. CRACK! I fire a single bullet into the air and the horde in the cave shrieks and runs out. "This is it, you two." The Warlock and Titan leap from the bog behind me. A Bow appears in my hands, and I let a single binding shot loose from the shadow. Now there are Orbs of Power everywhere. Eat, my friends. Eat.