The deafening rumble of six high yield orbital cannons charging above us shook the very air, vibrating through the marrow of my bones. High above the ruined city square, the High Council’s floating command warship,a jagged leviathan of dark steel and glowing blue energy coils hovered like a mechanical storm cloud, blotting out what little light remained in the sky.
"The cannon coils are at forty percent." Caelen shouted over the roaring thrusters, racing up the shattered marble steps toward us, his tactical comms unit buzzing with static. "If those orbital strikes hit the plaza, the shockwave will breach the subterranean fuel lines. The entire Citadel will go up in flames."
"They won't get the chance," Gideon said, his voice carrying the deep, resonant baritone of our dual guardian mark.
