The sound is when the uplink split was not an explosion but a rupture—a howl of torn frequencies and burning circuits. The chain's impact crushed the armored roof, spearing through the resonator pylons and splitting them like brittle wood. Sparks erupted in fountains out of blue and red, strobing across the battlefield in violent rhythm.
The soldiers' comms shrieked with static. Orders devolved into chaos. Drones spun wildly, some crashing into each other mid-air, others spiraling into the ruins below. The disciplined in lattice of the strike force collapsed in seconds, its seamless coordination splintering into panicked shouting and scattered gunfire.
Lin should have felt relief. Should have felt triumph. The uplink's destruction had ripped a hole wide enough for them to escape.
But instead, he felt the abyss surge.
