Vampire corpses are heaped and mounded, blood and stench are everywhere, and they keep coming. And coming. And coming. It seems to Ken that every vampire in the New York City underways has heard a call to action—"Our foe is here, let us bite him and claim him for ours!" Lord Hachiman's aegis has so far turned aside every fang that might have reached his skin, but they're coming close to simply burying him in their own dead, and he's running close to the edge of his endurance. If he doesn't do something to change the terms of the battle, he's in real trouble. Potentially deadly trouble.<br/><br/>Somewhere beyond the mass of his foes, Ken can see a blue light of some kind, an indistinct form, but he simply cannot spare the attention to examine it closely.