The master teleportation spire of Sector Zero shrieked with the sound of tearing metal.
Blinding sheets of violet spatial lightning leaped from its dark star-iron flanges, lashing against the vaulted obsidian ceiling like celestial whips. At the base of the spire, a hexagonal booth constructed from six-inch-thick star-glass glowed with incandescent fury.
Inside the reinforced booth, four Saint Vessel Late Sanctuary Array-Masters knelt around an altar of polished obsidian.
Their fingers moved in frantic, synchronized cadences, carving fresh blood-runes into the command terminal. They were overriding every containment valve, funneling raw celestial power directly from the orbital Star-Array into the spire’s central core.
A digital countdown rune projected above the booth: four minutes and thirty seconds until critical detonation.
“Stand aside,” Sera Thorne yelled, her boots skidding across the ozone-scorched flagstones.
She lowered her Tier eight Storm-Pike and charged. Saint Vessel Late lightning roared along the silver shaft as she drove the spearhead straight into the center pane of star-glass.
CLANG.
