The underground basin erupted into blinding, bone-shaking violence.
From the ventral hangars of the backup dreadnoughts Goliath-04 and Goliath-05, swarms of bio-submersibles and manta-drones poured into the black water. Over twenty craft—each twelve feet long, shaped like flattened, armored stingrays with swept silver-steel wings and twin hydro-jet nozzles—spread out in a lethal pincers formation. Their hulls glowed with sickly green chem-soft glow, armed with high-voltage harpoon batteries, magnetized mine dispensers, and sound depth-charges.
High above, docked at the cathedral’s central pylon, the flagship Nautilus-Prime began to turn. Its huge dorsal turret, fashioned from the spiraling shell of an ancient nautiloid titan, uncoupled from its magnetic locks with a deep, grinding screech that echoed through the water column. A sickening crimson glow gathered in the muzzle of its heavy aether siege cannon, spooling up to fire a beam of tightly packed particle energy directly into Titus’s position.
Inside Titus’s command module, the tactical display painted the water column in a fine, detailed web of scarlet threat vectors.
“They’re deploying the full screening wing!” Toby shouted, his hands working the backup tracking data boards to balance the sound sensors against the mounting surrounding roar. “The dreadnought’s dorsal cannon is charging! Four minutes to maximum beam capacity! If that aether lance hits us, the heat shock will boil Titus’s shell down to the bone and crack our pressure hull like an eggshell!”
