Frankly, he had been one of the luckiest when the swarm finally hit. Keeping his wits and actively trying his best to relax in the calm before the storm, Salvador likely had become one of the least visible in the group to the Dusk. At least, that was how he saw it as a single Dusk meandered toward him as if it was unsure of his existence. Screeches and crashes and  screams and commands being shouted into the wriggling sky as the sun was blocked out by a dome of Dusk. Salvador smirked at the though as the area dimmed under the collective mass of the Dusk, their names were so fitting now. Sliding the white mask down over his face, it seemed to take on a porcelain-like sheen and flashed brightly. The smile deepened and the closed eyes opened to reveal inky black eyes. Seeming to fuse with his face the white of the mask transitioned smoothly to the tan of Salvador's skin. An airy chuckle emanated from the hero as the tendril wrapped around the his jeans and began to pull. With little more than the flick of a wrist and ax appeared in his hand and was brought down on the tentacle severing it.<br/><br/>Affirmed in Salvador's existence, the Dusk reared back and waved its tentacle menacingly, roaring and screeching. Dropping the ax and jumping forward, Salvador grasped the first tentacle he could and swung himself onto the Dusk's back before reaching into its mouth. Its roar, muffled, took on a tone of what could be compared to surprise before Salvador withdrew him arm, now wrapped in a black, arm-length glove to the sound of sizzling. Jumping off its back, using the Dusk as a springboard, Salvador did a theatrical backflip in the air before landing and throwing a handful of confetti in the air. With little delay, the Dusk's body ruptured, spraying the wooden wall with its blood. The carnage before him was met with the unnerving smile pasted on his mask, flashes of light from Chiara reflecting off the glossy surface. Turning to the sky, to the unending swarm of Dusk falling upon them like hail, the hero started to set up his own kill zone, while he wouldn't be able to handle multiple Dusks in his face for long, area denial was a skill he excelled at. With and practiced motions, he would place his hands out of sight and throw bombs out into the air toward those Dusks that descended toward him.<br/><br/>These black orbs flew up, before blowing up in dramatically loud cracks of thunder and fire. While a typical Dusk could handle one or two of these explosions and shake it off, the steady stream of explosive being thrown into the air  did well to ground the Dusk that attempted to approach the camp through the hero's line of sight. The steady heartbeat of bombs exploding in the air helped the hero focus on the task at hand, his throws become more precise, instead of flaking the air to break the Dusks' dives he started to actually aim his bombs into incoming Dusk, damaging them and killing some before they could reach the rest of the group. Blood and gore showed the camp, a fine mist of blue mixed with chunks of chitin and skin. Wiping off is skin as often as he could, he could feel his exposed skin begin to tingle. Spatters of blue stained the wall and grass before him and as the incoming tide of Dusk grew closer and closer, the hero had to back up to avoid being drenched with the blood of the fallen creatures. Eventually the point came where the hero had to turn tail and run or be overrun by the Dusk that assaulted his position. With a final salvo consisting of several smaller bombs that exploded among the descending DUsk like fireworks, the hero sprinted away.<br/><br/>Running through the camp was like running through the settings of different apocalypses, his breath misted over as he passed close the Cryo's own predicament. Avoiding being in the blast of cold that exuded from her, the masked man threw a pair of axes her way, the first clanging off a Dusk flanking her while the second sank into it's fleshy underside. While it didn't do much it gave Cryo a more visible mark for her spears to skewer.<br/><br/>Passing below the nun being raped, he could see the Herculean woman throw something up at the Dusk holding the half naked nun. Running below, he couldn't see what happened, instead focusing on the Dusk descending upon the woman, likely to take her up and prevent her from saving the nun. As he passed her, the hero ducked under her left arm and deposited a sizzling black bomb into her palm, a small sticky note attached to it with one simple instruction,"THROW ME!!".<br/><br/>Taking a stand behind Hercula, the hero began to lob deafeningly loud bombs at the rapidly approaching surge of Dusk.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>