The sight made me doubt the nature of those survivors. If not for the sheer number of people there, I would have suspected every single one of them of being a traitor, a collaborator with the races.
But a whole city of traitors? It seemed unlikely. I would shelf that mystery for later; for now, I had to reduce the enemy influx before I was buried in it.
The sky gates themselves didn't pose a direct threat to the chariot. They were stationary portals, lacking the mobility to counter me. The real danger remained the aquatic hybrids and their continuous, cannon-like projectiles.
As I systematically moved to take control of the five gates in the sky, the intensity of the incoming fire reached a fever pitch. Looking up from the controls, it appeared as though a solid black cloud had formed over my head—a cloud that didn't rain water, but a relentless flood of red-and-black energy bolts.
