The air was still screaming.
The sonic boom from the dragon's final, pulverized descent was still rippling through the atmosphere, a low-frequency roar, RRRRR UUUUMMMMM, that felt like it was trying to shake the very marrow from Ignivara's bones.
Ignivara was airborne before the message from Celestina's communication crystal had even finished vibrating against her skin. The signal was a jagged, frantic burst of the Legion's high-priority field withdrawal code.
It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command that screamed, "NOW. LEAVE. SURVIVE."
She didn't look back. She couldn't.
If she looked back at the plaza, she would see the carnage. She would see the colossal, steaming mountain of dragon meat settling into the ruins of the city, and she would see the terrifying, godlike silhouette of the man who had just rewritten the laws of physics.
FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP!
