An ear-splitting, alien scream rang across the arena, causing Marcus to spin around and pull his Super Sledge, seeing one of the Arachnids, it's forearm-blade buried in a Gladiator, undergo a mutation that can best be described as nightmarish.
Marcus doubled back. The Master's armies may have prided themselves on having no fear, but age and experience had taught Marcus caution. He dropped his sledge back in it's thigh brace and readied his minigun. If that monstrosity rushed him, well, he didn't want to be anywhere close - it only fired four thousand rounds per minute, and he'd want as many in that beast as possible.
Then it fired some kind of energy weapon at another Arachnid, causing the mutation to start again, and then they both headed for the Arachnid reinforcements coming out of the sands.
What the hell is going on here?
He didn't have time to debate the possibilities. They were unpredictable, but also devastating. He leveled his minigun at them, watching them carefully. If they turned on him or any of the others, they'd eat hot lead.