Cassandra's voice cut through the vacuum of space.
"Secure the base. I want prisoners recovered, records seized, and storage rings collected. Anything that moves and isn't Vorn, put it down."
Blade No. 10—Lex Beaumont—descended toward the breached asteroid surface, his Early Supreme Realm aura pressing down on the installation like the weight of a collapsing star. Blade No. 12 followed, his Late Origin Realm presence silent and absolute. The squad of Vorn elite warriors fanned out behind them.
The remaining Peak Spirit Soul defenders attempted to mount a defensive formation at the base's inner corridors. Blade No. 12 walked through their formation like it wasn't there. His hand cut through the lead defender's barrier, and the man's head left his shoulders before his brain registered the movement. The rest broke and ran. They didn't get far.
