Under the rolling waves, a group of blue-skinned mutants with fish scales roared past with the ocean current, appearing like a surging blue mudslide beneath the surface of the water.
They used piercing screams to intimidate the Variants trying to approach and used harpoons to carve a path forward, heading west along the coastline and then south.
Guided by the will of their ancestors, they had drifted for an entire week, resting only a few times along the way. When hungry, they would catch some fish, shellfish, or seaweed to stave off hunger, leaving chaos and destruction in their wake, like locusts passing through.
Yet even with their stomachs growling with hunger, their morale had not decreased at all; the fire of battle in their pupils seemed to surge even higher.
Temporary hunger was merely to make room for the feast that was about to begin; they would soon gorge themselves on the bounty granted by their ancestors and revel in the cries and wails of their prey.
