The sound of the world ending was apparently a C-Major chord played on a chainsaw.
SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Reed gritted his teeth, the vibration rattling his skull inside the exo-harness. The "Weed Whacker Mk 1" wasn't just cutting the wall of thorns; it was having a violent, screaming argument with it.
The massive, Void-infused obsidian chains spun at 4,000 RPM, tearing into the thick, pulsing weave of the blockage. It wasn't like cutting wood. It was like cutting frozen meat. The wall resisted. It writhed. It bled.
Thick, neon-pink sap sprayed across Reed's [Void Shield], sizzling as it hit the energy barrier. The smell was atrocious, a mix of burning, rot, and caramelized sugar that made his stomach turn.
"Torque is holding at 98%!" Grika yelled over the roar of the engine, her voice tinny through the comms crystal in Reed's ear. She was clinging to the back of Terra's shoulder like a parrot, her goggles reflecting the shower of violet sparks. "Push, Boss! Make it hurt!"
