Shadows whirled, shadows spread, shadows danced madly in the Throne Room. Their clawing, fang-baring forms loomed indistinctly through the thickening mist, and a few seconds later, those savage, blurred silhouettes revealed their true shapes.
Demons.
There was no doubt. Only they were so hideous. Only they lusted so madly for human souls.
The mist surged, and the daemonic tide swept in. There was no time to mourn the Marshal's death. Tor Garadon immediately activated the grav-cannon on his right shoulder. The Glyph Array began prompting him, streams of flickering data sliding across his goggles as the targeting program came online.
He clenched his teeth and readied himself for the impact.
After five seconds of preheating, the grav-cannon fired. The recoil was so great that even his shoulder jolted, but it was worth it. A violent, piercing shriek erupted from the muzzle of the grav-cannon, a blue sigil flashed and vanished, and gravity waves glowing with violet light howled out.
That turbulence of gravity cut through the fouled air of the Throne Room, carrying Bedrock's fury as it plunged straight into the daemonic tide and raised a boundless sea of blood.
The terrifying pressure brought by the grav-cannon utterly crushed the bodies of every demon in that area, sending reeking blood spraying outward—but that was only the beginning.
The modifications the Mechanicus Priests had made with the technology aboard Terra Space Station revealed themselves at that moment—the gravity waves began to converge madly, turning into a twisted purgatory that trapped them fast. Then gravity erupted completely.
Filthy flesh spasmed and gushed into the air like an exploding rain of blood, and splintered shards of bone spun through the air, inflicting a second wave of damage. The daemonic tide's momentum faltered.
The results were astonishing—but Tor Garadon felt not the slightest joy.