The sky above Portentia turned a sickly, metallic green as the first wave of the Ravager fleet entered the atmosphere. They were not ships in any conventional sense; they were biomechanical horrors, living creatures of chrome and flesh, shaped like monstrous insects and deep-sea predators. They descended on the city not with the roar of engines, but with a chorus of dissonant, chittering clicks and wet, guttural screeches.
On the walls of the city, Nox's army stood ready. The human players, clad in their new, Dwarven-forged armor, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the sleek, black constructs of the void. At their head, Elisa hefted her massive warhammer, her face a mask of grim excitement.
"Let them come!" she roared. "Let's show these overgrown space-bugs what a real fight looks like!"
Nox stood on the highest tower of his spire, Serian at his side. He was not wearing his armor. He just watched the descending horde, his scepter held loosely in his hand.
