The bubble shield bowed under the assault and eventually it popped. Not unlike a soap bubble. Red magic shimmered in the air for a heartbeat and was replaced by the monsters. Brock cursed under his breath and took up a ready stance. Tony's suit was the first to fire off. A pulse from the hand connected with the nearest monster and tore the thing's shoulder off. Thick black ichor oozed from the wound and the creature still came.
Brock hated waiting for combatants to come to him, but it would be too detrimental for him to advance on his own. The armless monster finally reached him and it was much easier to maneuver with only one clawed hand swiping at him. The creature looked to have a mask where its face should've been and its mouth was agape.
Finally the sound made sense. The wailing wasn't a byproduct of their tripping security. It was the patchwork creatures. Brock couldn't say he blamed them, and he was quick to dispatch the first. So long as he didn't hear screaming behind them then he wouldn't worry about how the witch was doing. She was stronger than him anyway, not that he'd ever admit that out loud.