The high-pitched, synchronized hum of fifty Corporate [Hard-Light Aegis] shields overlapping in a confined space sounded like an over-stressed electrical transformer buckling under a fatal load.
The Sector 1 Apex Corridor stretched seventy yards, lined with synthetic marble. Blocking the path to the heavy mahogany doors of the Tactical Suite was a literal wall of glowing gold geometric light. Fifty Tier-3 Corporate Mages stood locked in a flawless, textbook phalanx.
The thermodynamic byproduct of fifty elites burning mana to project hard-light created an oppressive, suffocating heat. It dried the sweat on the Vanguard's skin before it could even run, turning the air into a dry oven.
Will, Tyson, Elias, Allison, and Don hit the threshold of the corridor and ground to a halt.
