The din of battle may be fading but the problems aren't; at the Marina there is a massive, starry crab trying to break into one of the buildings, smashing its pincers into a now eternally-open window in an effort to get at someone inside who is replying, ineffectually, with pistol shots.

You ever meet someone who has a face like someone you fucking hate and even though you know this isn't that person you still feel angry that they exist in your sightline? That's how this weasel feels looking at this crab.

It's racing into the fray, but it could probably use some backup, or a distraction. That is not a small crab.