The roar of Dax’s Interceptor was a physical blow to the silent wasteland.
It wasn't just noise; it was a declaration of war. As he dumped the clutch and tore the closed-loop stealth limiters from his engine, the bike erupted in a blinding trail of blue Phase-fire. He didn't ride away from the crater; he rode parallel to the ridge, deliberately silhouetting himself against the desolate ash, a screaming beacon of human defiance.
All six Null-Stalkers snapped their featureless, jagged heads toward him.
They didn't howl. They didn't growl. They simply moved. They launched themselves up the side of the glass crater with terrifying, impossible speed, their multi-jointed limbs propelling them like spiders made of obsidian. As they ran, the void-whips lashing from their backs struck the ground
