The air outside hit like a furnace when the three of them dropped from the Sanctum's hangar. Heat rolled off the valley in waves, smoke stung their lungs, and the ground below was nothing but shattered stone and burning huts. The missiles had done their work. The nation was cracked wide open.
Lucian landed first, boots sinking into blackened soil that still smoked. He straightened slowly, cloak snapping behind him, his gaze sweeping the battlefield. The map in his mind clicked into place—their plan, their lines of attack.
Lucy landed next, Infernal Eclipse drawn, the blade already humming as it tasted the fire in the air. Black flames streamed from her hair, the heat around her sharp enough to warp the air.
Karl came down last, his aura spilling red and gold, his laugh carrying over the chaos. He cracked his knuckles like he'd been waiting his whole life for this.
