The violet-gold blade chewed into the reinforced corporate steel. A geyser of white-hot slag vomited onto the bloody floor tiles. Will leaned his entire body weight into the hilt of the saber. The metal shrieked. He dragged the blade down another inch, searing a jagged, glowing scar into the blast shutter.
The heat radiating off the door blistered the air. The heavy iron absorbed the sheer thermal output of the weapon without yielding.
Will killed the blade. The high-tier weapon dragged his mana reserves directly into the yellow just trying to score the metal. He stepped back, wiping a streak of sweat and powdered concrete off his jaw. The deep gouge he had just burned into the steel cooled into a dark, fused knot. It barely scratched the primary locking mechanism.
The Red Room was a sealed tomb.
