The first wave of Archive guards flowed into the Collection room like a tide of nightmares. They had once been humanoid, but whatever process had created them had stretched and twisted their forms into something barely recognizable. Too tall, too thin, with limbs that bent at impossible angles and faces that were more suggestion than feature. Black smoke poured from their bodies constantly, as if they were slowly burning from within.
"Corrupted prisoners," Master Damian identified grimly as the creatures advanced with unnatural coordination. "The Archive's answer to security. They turn failed experiments into guardians."
The creatures moved with disturbing silence, their footsteps making no sound despite their obvious weight. Only a constant clicking emanated from their throats, like insects communicating in a language of bone and cartilage.
