Ten thousand feet above the toxic slums of Sector 4, the atmosphere was not a sky; it was a sprawling, mechanized meat grinder.
Adonis was a blinding, singular streak of white and blue fire tearing through an ocean of dark purple. The Supreme Commander of Earth moved with a kinetic velocity that defied the heavy mass of his titanium armor. He did not use a rifle. He was the weapon.
He collided with a cluster of Eastern Grid pacification drones at Mach 2, his massive, silver-gloved hands physically ripping the hyper-alloy wings from their fuselages. As the broken machines plummeted toward the earth, he spun, unleashing a concentrated, white-hot plasma beam from his palms that vaporized a dozen more into clouds of molten slag.
But for every drone he destroyed, ten more immediately filled the gap.
