Lightning, ghost blasts, lightsabers, frost magic, sword slashes, even a few bullets. The rest of the horde couldn't really do anything against the focused might of over 30 powerful minds housed in 8-9 powerful souls. The thick hide of the red-skinned butchers couldn't keep the Personae out. Their only tactic seemed to be laughing as they died, to unnerve their opponents. But none of that mattered, because they were cut down swiftly. Everyone stands over their bodies, which seem to reek of rotten meat near the butchers, and shakes hands. They are interrupted by Conor, who hops around and over to them with some of the slime demon bodies stuck to his other foot.

"Ah, it won't... I... GET IT OFF!", He shouts as he dances around, flailing.

With a wild kick, he hurled the goo off his foot, into a corner. The others laughed or frowned, as their dispositions indicated.

"That thing was alive!", he says.

"Maybe we didn't destroy all of them entirely" offers Zeus!Jacob, holding the ridiculously oversized Sword of Olympus on his shoulder.

"Yeah... or maybe...", starts Conor, as he looks across the shadowy interior of the room, counting bodies. "...they're coming back!" He prepares a Lightning plasmid in his shoulders, focusing the electricity into his metal palms, while crouching into a combat position and aiming his arms towards the darkness. Out of which come 3 canisters of some sort, which tumble across the floor, bumping over bodies and landing spread out over the area. A red, low hanging vapor gas begins to issue from them with a hiss.

12 butchers, cleavers out, move into the gas, inhaling deeply while fanning out to defend what looks like the fiends that had just been killed shambling over bodies and using tools to reassemble their broken bodies and mesh together the goo. Everything that the gas touches uses every means it has to get back up, assisted by the tool-bearers. As the gas (with a sickly sweet odor that smells slightly like bad oranges) rolls towards the Personae, they raise their weapons against the hands at their feet that even now begin to clutch at them...