Dreth pushed his fingers beneath the opened core plate and drove ash through every cord stretched across the command ridge. Ninety-five Flint soldiers jerked backward at once, bound to a man who had stopped pretending they were people.
Mana tore from their cores toward his central socket while several clawed at the fitted cords. They found nothing their hands could reach and no room to pull away from the command riding their blood.
"Commander, release the reserve," Corven said, shifting the circulation bank as its frame shook, "their cores will fail before the transfer settles."
"They were given power to hold my ground," Dreth said against his burned core, "I am taking back what they failed to use."
Hajin saw the cords tighten before the first company dropped. Dreth was not losing control of anything, because he was choosing the people who would pay for his arithmetic.
