"Syndicate High Command," Alvian's voice echoed across the planet, devoid of anger, devoid of mercy, and chillingly precise. "You sought to merge our worlds to rule the ashes. You assumed you were the administrators of this reality."
Alvian raised the [Edge of Entropy], the colorless blade absorbing the light of the screens.
"You were wrong. Your trial period has expired."
—-
The sky over the terrestrial capital of the Syndicate was no longer a bruised, weeping purple. It was entirely blacked out.
Azureus, the Aerial Dreadnought, hung suspended in the stratosphere like a judgment handed down from the heavens. The sheer, impossible mass of the floating city cast a shadow that swallowed the sprawling, neon-lit megalopolis below. Earth's atmosphere groaned under the spatial displacement, the atmospheric regulators of the city churning out a low, bass-heavy thrum that rattled the windows of every corporate skyscraper for fifty miles.
