Chapter 141: Sickle Attack
Zykra’s shadow Ikona shimmered, Shadow Veil cloaking a crate, violet shard flickering, her voice low, "Gates’re weak east." Roachaline’s Coercive Pulse flared, level two, silencing Torqa’s growl, her shards sparking, Ikona’s claws snapping. "We bait," she said, voice biting, "strip their shards, like the video." Believers murmured, "Rogues come," their zeal fervent, a comm buzzing: "93 shard users."
Roachaline exhaled smoke, knife twirling, ordering, "Vexen, scout east. Sylira, jam their comms. Torqa, Nexis, crush the gates. Zykra, cloak us." Her Ikona hissed, believers chanting, "New blood!" the video’s threat alive, raid stakes soaring, the post’s shadow heavy, her fierce beauty a blade, five thousand waiting, Vardency’s dust a shroud, the six ready, blood calling.
The command post loomed, concrete bunkers squat against Vardency’s dusty plains, shard-powered turrets glinting, barracks sprawling, five thousand soldiers stirring. Stolen skiffs roared, red Epics flags flapping, Roachaline’s insect Ikona skittering ahead, Swarm Strike slashing a turret, steel sparking, her shards flaring—red screaming, violet humming. Blood sprayed, soldiers shouting, the air thick with ash and screams, Vardency’s winds howling, chaos erupting.
Torqa’s stone Ikona smashed a gate, Stone Crush grinding, concrete crumbling, ochre shard pulsing, soldiers scattering, their rifles firing, sparks ricocheting. Nexis’s flame Ikona roared, Flame Burst igniting a squad, orange shard blazing, screams choking in smoke, his laugh wild. Zykra’s shadow Ikona cloaked Vexen, Shadow Veil shimmering, violet shard dim, hawk Ikona screeching, Signal Trace locking targets, green shard glowing, her shots precise, blood pooling.
Sylira’s wire Ikona sparked, hacking a comm tower, signals scrambling, blue shard flaring, soldiers’ shouts faltering. Federation turrets swiveled, shard blasts searing, skiffs rocking, a back-and-forth erupting—soldiers charging, Epics striking, blood drenching sand, Ikona overwhelming. Roachaline’s Domination Aura flared, soldiers dropping rifles, kneeling, her glare a blade, Ikona’s claws tearing flesh, her fierce beauty deadly, knife glinting, believers chanting, "New blood!" the rogue signal pulsing closer, five klicks, the slaughter raging, Vardency’s dust red with gore.
lood sprayed across Vardency’s dusty plains, the Federation command post’s concrete bunkers pockmarked, shard-powered turrets blazing blue, barracks swallowed in flames. Roachaline slashed a soldier’s throat, her knife dripping red, insect Ikona’s Swarm Strike tearing another, claws shredding flesh, red shard sparking wildly. Her Domination Aura pulsed, a heavy ripple forcing a squad to their knees, rifles clattering, screams choking in ash, her fierce beauty deadly, dark hair whipping, cigarette smoke curling through the chaos.
She kicked a corpse aside, boots grinding bloodied sand, violet shard humming, eyes glinting as she twirled her knife, slicing a stray bullet’s path, metal sparking. Her Ikona skittered, claws slashing a soldier’s leg, blood pooling, his scream fading. "Keep bleeding!" she growled, red shard flaring, aura crushing a sniper’s will, his scope dropping, her attractive scowl commanding, scars flexing as she advanced, Vardency’s ash stinging her throat.