The fierce wind howled through the open hatch of the Thunderhawk gunship, wildly battering the passengers' exposed skin. The dry, thin air was enough to suffocate an ordinary human.
Yet for the ten Night Lords inside the cabin, such an environment felt incomparably comfortable and cool.
Sevatar anchored himself to the deck with the magnetic locks in his power boots, half his body extending beyond the hatch.
His blue-violet power armor, similar to the night of Nostramo, glimmered faintly with lightning-like patterns—the sign of an active energy shield.
His refined, rakish pompadour remained perfectly still in the gale. His scar-crossed eyes narrowed as his incredible vision pierced the clouds, revealing the vast golden complex below that covered half the Eurasian continent.
That was the heart of humanity: the Imperial Palace on Terra, seat of the Lord of Mankind.
Even the Prince of Crows' mighty heart accelerated at what he was about to do, pumping more blood into his brain.
"Prepare for orbital insertion. We're about to do something countless people would not even dare dream of."
Sevatar put on the crimson bat-winged helmet secured to his waist by a magnetic lock, gripped his master-crafted power glaive in his right hand, and leapt without hesitation into the endless sea of clouds.
"Let's infiltrate the Imperial Palace!"
The veterans of the Black Guard followed close behind, descending in a tight, concealed formation behind the Prince of Crows.
After passing through the empty stratosphere, the Night Lords plunged like a sharp blade into the convective clouds thick with poisonous exhaust and dust.
Acid rain clung to their power armor, only to be stripped clean away by the raging winds.
Sevatar fell faster and faster. Through his crimson lenses, he locked onto his target, using the jump pack on his back for minor adjustments