Cold saltwater began raining from the gaps torn open in the clouds by the energy storm, carried down by the salty sea wind—not the gentle, lingering rain of spring.
More black shadows surged in from the far end of the horizon.
They landed on the chaotic docks, on the slanted deck of the aircraft carrier, and among the attackers still putting up a desperate resistance and the dumbfounded official Beyonders.
A "Wind-Blessed" from the Church of Storms had just slit a pirate's throat with a compressed wind blade. Before he could chant the holy name, a Sentinel hovered before him.
Its pair of scarlet optical sensors swept across him, devoid of any emotion, with only streams of data rushing within.
The next second, the Sentinel raised an arm, and a hurricane even purer and more violent than the one the "Wind-Blessed" himself could summon appeared out of thin air in its palm.
The expression on the "Wind-Blessed"'s face froze.
The fingers clutching his holy emblem turned white from the force, and his lips moved, yet he could not produce a single sound.
He could identify the power contained within that storm. It was authority that only a Sequence 5 "Ocean Songster" could wield.
Elsewhere, an "Artisan" from the Machinery Hivemind Church was frantically reloading his alchemical musket.
Before him, an Intis secret society member grinned viciously as he drew invisible Spirit Body Threads from the air.
A Sentinel silently descended behind the "Artisan." The armor over its chest slid apart, revealing not a deep-blue halo, but a warped space like cheap glass.
The secret society member's Spirit Body Threads were severed and swallowed by that distorted space less than half a meter from the Sentinel.
Then, the Sentinel extended a finger.
At its fingertip, a spot of pure white light