KLANG!
The heavy iron door of the Cell Block flew off its hinges, warping around the impact of a steam-pressurized fist. It sailed across the room, crushing a Cyborg guard against the far wall with a sickening crunch of metal on metal.
"Did you hear that?" Leona grinned, stepping through the smoke, her lion ears twitching as the distant sirens from the Transport Sector began to wail.
"The Young Lord started the party."
Grandmaster Brokk racked the slide of his massive, custom-built mana-rifle. The weapon hummed with a dangerous, unstable blue light.
"Then we better not be late," Brokk growled, spitting on the floor. "Isabelle, heat up the room. Lyra, shoot anything that doesn't have a beard."
"Aye, Grandmaster!"
They charged into the prison block.
….................
[Cell Block A - General Population]
The main hall was a nightmare of cages and catwalks suspended over the magma vents. The air smelled of sulfur and unwashed bodies.
