The ruined, ash-covered highway was completely silent, save for the localized, rhythmic hissing of depressurizing hydraulic fluid.
Fifty of the Citadel's most elite, heavily augmented Vanguard operatives lay completely flattened against the petrified asphalt. The massive, twenty-G gravitational crush had turned their hyper-advanced Old World exoskeletons into multi-ton, inescapable iron maidens. The heavy, localized plasma repeaters they had deployed were twisted into unrecognizable heaps of sparking slag.
Ren walked through the wreckage.
