The Scrapyard didn't drive so much as it chewed the earth. The massive treads ground the salt pan into white dust, kicking up a cloud that looked like a sandstorm trailing behind them for miles.
Rin stood on the observation deck, watching the Sleepers drill on the flatbed below.
It was a mess.
"Formation B!" Tau shouted, his voice amplified by the crawler's PA system. "Shields front, blasters back! Stop bunching up!"
A fireball went wide, scorching the paint off a crane. A barrier flickered and died. A speedster tripped over his own feet and face-planted into the deck plating.
"They're rusty," Nyx said, leaning on the railing next to Rin. "And traumatized. And their mana circuits are fried from being hooked up to a server for six months."
"They're trying," Rin said.
"Trying gets you killed," Nyx countered. "Performance gets you paid. Right now, they're a liability."
