The train yard was silent.
The brilliant floodlights cast long, stark shadows over the scene of the battle.
Grak and Veyla slowly approached Axton, their expressions a mixture of awe and caution.
They had seen his power at the garrison. But this was different.
This was not the brute force of a storm.
This was the absolute, terrifying power of the void.
"Lord Warborne," Grak said, his voice unusually subdued. "That... thing. What was it?"
"A puppet," Axton replied, his eyes still fixed on the spot where the Inquisitor had dissolved into nothing. "A machine wrapped in shadows, controlled from a distance."
Ryn's team rappelled down from the rooftops, their faces pale.
"We saw the whole thing," Ryn said, her voice tight. "It didn't have a face."
"It didn't need one," Axton stated. "I
