The Citadel's stealth fleet did not fly. It was violently pushed through the upper atmosphere by the localized, zero-point terrestrial energy radiating from the Abyssal Sovereign and his four thousand Praetorians.
Inside the heavily armored cockpit of the flagship transport, there was no engine noise. There was no vibration from atmospheric friction. The massive, radar-absorbent hull of the ship was completely enveloped in a hyper-condensed vacuum slipstream generated by Ren's Domain of the Abyss. They were traveling at roughly Mach 15, completely bypassing the Old World laws of aerodynamics.
Chloe sat paralyzed in the heavy shock-seat behind the command console, her eyes wide as she stared through the polarized glass.
She was looking down at the apocalypse from sixty thousand feet.
