“You’ll have an orbital strike,” Aldric said. “The Spear of Absolution is positioning for a lance bombardment. Get clear in fifteen minutes.”
The creature turned its head 180 degrees. It opened its mouth—too wide, jaw unhinged—and screamed. Not a battle cry. A carrier wave.
At the matrix’s core, a pulsing the size of a Land Raider emitted the signal. Each pulse sent a wave of reconfiguration through the attached skulls, and through them, every thrall on Serekh Secundus.
He sprinted toward the densest thrall concentration, claws sparking. Xavian and Vorek formed a wedge behind him. Aldric took the rear, his plasma pistol superheating the air.