The eighty-foot wall of black poison rushed across the three-mile channel with a sickening, oily hiss.
Acidic purple spray leaped ahead of the surge, turning the ocean swells into a bubbling sheet of caustic sludge.
Along the outer reef, ancient basalt boulders sizzled and dissolved into grey foam upon touching the mist.
Schools of deep-sea fish floated to the surface, their scales dissolved into slimy purple ribbons within seconds.
Captain Cole watched the purple-black crest rise higher against the grey clouds.
“That wave has enough acid to dissolve twenty dreadnoughts,” Cole muttered, gripping the brass rail.
Elder Sterling nodded grimly, keeping his gaze locked on the approaching wall of poison.
On the sixteen allied warships, the forward non-Saint defensive wards flared in bright warning colors.
