The zero-gravity environment of the inner sanctum was a terrifying, silent mess.
Sebastian floated gently backward, his heavy boots no longer anchored to the
polished obsidian floor. He clutched the massive, glowing azure sphere of the
Regional Core tightly to his chest. It was freezing cold and pulsed with the
condensed, desperate heartbeat of an entire planetary server.
Around him, the colossal Server Pillar was dying.
The blindingly bright blue waterfall of code that had stretched into the
infinite dark ceiling suddenly sputtered. It turned a sickly, dead grey. The
glowing runes etched into the glass floor violently shorted out.
POP! POP! POP!
Showers of sparks erupted like dying fireworks. Shards of the shattered diamond
doors drifted aimlessly through the air, catching the fading emergency lights.
Without the Core to process its logic, the Vanguard Syndicate's absolute
authority was nothing but dead weight.
