The crystal spire shattered like spun glass under the heavy boots of the Zenith Vanguard.
General Malakor swung his colossal broadsword, sending a devastating wave of superheated cosmic plasma through the grand doors of the highest sanctum.
BUZZZZ!
The heavy golden gates did not just break. They melted into boiling slag.
Neo walked calmly through the molten puddle. Lyra held tightly to his left hand, her small silver eyes wide with awe. Noir walked gracefully beside him, her dark wings casting an absolute, suffocating shadow over the blinding light of the room. The screaming of the dying Fate Regulators outside was slowly drowned out by the terrified silence within the chamber.
