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((The Father's Day Special -- page 24 of 24))
Hector didn't like what he found. Everyone was indeed accounted for, but they were clearly not doing so hot. The spawn were all around them, crowding closer and dodging attacks left and right.

Which was strange.

The Rainlords' movements were abnormal. Carlos was missing shots. Fidel's copper was slow to formulate itself. Matteo and Salvador were fighting in barehanded unison, but they were sluggish, and their swings with their fists were far too wide.

They looked exhausted, but that didn't make any sense. They were servants, and their reapers were right there with them. They shouldn't have been running out of stamina this soon. And the non-servants--the ones that hadn't yet made it inside the makeshift copper building--could barely even stand. A few were on their hands and knees, seemingly uninjured, yet still crawling.

It made no sense.

Until, that was, Hector remembered what Pauline had told him before. About auras. About the disorienting effects they could have.

The Rainlords weren't tired. Their senses were being suppressed. Dulled. Why now? Because Hector's own aura had diminished? If so, then how the hell was he supposed to fix that?

These were the questions in the back of his mind as he flew to their aid, trying to subdue as many of the monsters at once as he could. Big iron blocks slammed down and flattened some, while others were boxed in and put into orbit around him.

Restarting his collection yet again was perhaps an exercise in futility, considering how many times he'd had to suddenly drop it already, but he still felt like it was their best bet. Thus far, capturing the little bastards had been the only way to actually remove them from the fight. And right now, reducing their numbers was the most important thing.