1109 A Battle of Souls

From the depths of the earth, a torrent of thousands of souls erupted.

Graahh!

All of their ethereal forms twisted and writhed as they surged forth with an astral roar.

Each soul bore the weight of its untold anguish—unleashed in a cacophony of cries that rent the air with their otherworldly plangency. As the spectral horde descended upon the victims trapped within their relentless onslaught, the air crackled with palpable intensity.

Instead of attempting to pull Rex and the others' souls, these souls aimed for another goal.

As opposed to doing that, they aimed to share their suffering instead.

Like a tidal wave of torment, the souls crashed against the barriers of flesh and bone, giving the taste of the pain they suffered at the end of their lives by the Passue Matriarch's hands, and it was dreadful—their spectral forms intertwining and passes through Rex, Edward—the Witch, and the Executor's bodies.