Chapter Content
The moment Kian Voss gave the order, he exploded into a sprint, his combat boots hammering rhythmically against the polished marble boulevard. Behind him, the Voss Guard didn't hesitate; they surged forward, rifles leveled, a wall of black ceramite following their sergeant into the maw of the theater.
A few Poxwalkers near the entrance turned their misshapen heads. Their skin was translucent, pulsing with the green heat of the rot, and they wore wide, serene smiles.
Kian slid into a tactical crouch, his autogun barking in sharp, three-round bursts.
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