You’re walking with zealots and veterans (combination doesn’t matter) and you get met with an entire column of crushers. Specialists are spawning at your sides and the horde walkers are rushing in behind you. You stun lock the crushers so the guys with knifes can stab them in the head without getting cleaved to death. You angle your arcs to hit the flame throwers in on your right, and one of the other guys goes for the squad of gunners to your left. You have to hold them - if you don’t, they’ll end up suppressing your team and leaving you unable to move when they’re already spending stamina on what your smite couldn’t reach. If you lose this, everyone’s gonna get up and your team can’t handle that much pressure…
Your peril is building up because of how much you’re having to control, you turn around, holding your arcs and you use venting shriek to stun the horde behind you.
Then, the most satisfying line drops in that instance which could not be more true…
“I can’t control it…!” echoes throughout the halls as the entire horde falls over from the force of your shriek. You can’t hold this forever, and that shout let your teammates know that, you’re running out of time. The crushers aren’t all dead yet, the specialists are occupied, and the horde is getting back up. You can’t hold all four directions, and you can’t hold the snipers that are climbing the walls in the far distance.
“The voices…! The voices!!” You scream as you continue to hold them in place. For whatever reason your fellow rejects brought pistols and knives to what would be insurmountable odds.
I love how the audio plays into that with the desperation in the voice. I love the panic that ensues when we have that.