Nathan stared up at the sterile ceiling. Dozens of collapses. Tens of thousands of casualties. And Clamour, standing in the shadows with his ancient Treant, conducting the slaughter.
"We don't stop," Nathan said. His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of a leader. "The Cleansing doesn't happen...it can't! We will clear the remaining High Class Towers on our list. We need to get stronger, and put Clamour in the ground."
The door opened again. Garrett and Dillon stepped inside, unable to wait in the hall any longer. Garrett was gripping Volcan, the mace's thermal core pulsing a slow, angry orange. Dillon had the Cloud Serpent wrapped tight around his neck, the air around him smelling faintly of ozone.
"We're in," Garrett said instantly. He hadn't heard the briefing, and he didn't care. "Whatever the play is, kid. We're in."
Dillon nodded, his jaw set. "Cloudy and I are ready to burn things. Just point."
