Outside the central citadel, the world had descended into a chaotic, terrifying symphony of steel and fire.
The floating dreadnought, buffeted by the shockwaves of the citadel's structural collapse, shuddered violently. Fox gripped the command consoles, his knuckles white as he fought to maintain the castle's altitude. "The hive mind is panicked!" he yelled, his voice barely audible over the screeching of twisting metal. "The citadel's external defences are going rogue! They're locking onto us with everything they've got!"
Hundreds of biomechanical dreadnoughts - massive, ship-sized constructs of grey steel and jagged chrome - emerged from the smog-choked horizon. They bristled with cannon barrels and necrotic energy emitters, closing in on the floating castle like sharks circling a wounded whale.
