The skies above, streaked with the wispy trails of the Demon Lord's army, seemed to mock their desperate flight. Dick, his gaze fixated on the unnatural smoky tendrils, felt a chill settle in his bones. It was clear to him now—the Goblin King Gobugu, or perhaps even the Demon Lord himself, was orchestrating this harrowing chase, their every move watched, every breath noted.
"Mom, bring that eye down!" Dick's voice was urgent, the command sharp. He knew the floating eye was not just a silent observer; it was the harbinger of their doom.
Tina, her reflexes as swift as her resolve, drew her bow in a fluid motion. The arrow, singing through the air, was a streak of hope, but it fell, defeated by distance, a silent testament to the eye's mocking evasion.