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The island is wreathed in thick, chemical smoke as fires spread in almost beautiful synchronicity. Smaller explosions, the sound of collapse and the feeble, scattered pops of small arms rattle around the shores. Eagles, albatrosses and sealions take to the air and ocean respectively as feeble crews of ternion species can be seen abandoning their station and fellows with or without boats.
Most curiously, a small light glows beneath the water.
<span class="mu-s">"We're up, Hornady."</span> Mike calls as he takes aim.
Everton legitimately yeehaws.
