The warehouse had gone quiet.
The smoke lingered from Sovereign’s plasma pulse, Tyler’s shirt was scorched, Erik’s blade dripped blood that wasn’t his, and Ra... stood between all three of them, glowing.
“Explain,” Sovereign said, in that perfect, terrifying calm. His normally sleek frame crackled with residual rage. The crimson arc in his visor flickered. “Now.”
“I didn’t start the fight,” Tyler muttered, licking a smear of blood from his lower lip. “But I’ll end it.”
“Back off, Fang Boy,” Erik...