The air tasted of scorched asphalt and static.
Elias pressed his face into the dirt behind the rusted transport rover, squeezing his eyes shut as a second bolt of raw, blue-white electricity cracked across the courtyard. The noise didn't just hurt his ears; it vibrated through his teeth and rattled his fractured ribs.
Ten feet away, the Federation officer stood his ground. The silver shard at his throat burned with a blinding intensity, feeding current directly into his hands. He didn't use a weapon. He didn't need one. He swept his arm in a wide, horizontal arc, sending a chained web of lightning ripping through the charging Vanguard soldiers.
Bodies dropped to the pavement, muscles locked in violent spasms, their cheap tactical vests smoking from the heat.
"Hold the line!" the officer roared again, stepping out from the inner keep's blast doors.
Roachaline Vaslix didn't retreat. She walked straight into the electrical storm.
