The low, rhythmic tremor of heavy armor vibrated through the cracked asphalt of Sector Four.
It started as a feeling in the soles of Elias's boots and quickly grew into a low, mechanical roar echoing down the transit artery. The Federation was coming.
Elias stood near the rear of the hovering transport skiff, his eyes locked on the thick, black detonation cord snaking across the street. It ran from the base of the two towering, structurally compromised skyscrapers directly to a manual plunger box resting on the hood of a crushed sedan.
Torqa stood beside the car, his massive stone Ikona grinding its plates together in anticipation. His hand hovered over the plunger.
"You can't just walk up and break it," Dot whispered, her presence a frantic flutter against Elias's collarbone. "Sylira is watching everyone. If you step out of line, her wire will cut your throat before you even reach the car."
