The Spire was utterly unrecognisable.
The gleaming, flawless titanium architecture of Tower Zero, which had pierced the sky for a decade, was now a jagged, broken tooth. The upper administrative levels and the luxurious penthouse had been completely obliterated during the drone strike. What remained was a dark, hollowed-out fortress of scorched metal and exposed rebar.
But as the dropship settled onto the cracked asphalt of the primary hangar, the dynamic between the two passengers had fundamentally, irreversibly shifted.
When the pressurised ramp lowered with a sharp hiss, Nikki did not walk behind the Supreme Commander. She was no longer a terrified scavenger, nor was she a protected variable kept on a localised leash. She walked down the ramp completely in step with him, her head held high.
