The roar of radioactive static crackled through the cockpit’s sound system; a layer of audio snow that clung to Morgan’s distorted trumpet. Turtle’s hull rumbled in the aftermath of the 240mm rail-cannon’s blast. Cavitations abraded infinitesimal motes of emerald effulgence from the 200kg neobohrium shell with each causal collapse. These motes, suspended in segmentations of spacetime, slowly drifted apart from meandering quantum trajectories. Their size and shape warped in dissociative division, tightly knit together by extranoospheric mandelbrot sets. Layers of high-density muons jostled one another in the turbulent wake of the neobohrium shell to reseal the gap in Turtle’s defensive barrier. The significant strain of incomprehensible mass placed on the bulwark of subatomic particles condensed the dome by a quarter. Through the cataclysmic conditions of the battleground, Turtle’s multiband sensor array tracked the neobohrium shell via the tachyonic discharge of the S-particles housed in its warhead. Beyond the reach of the Scranton reality anchors, anomalous transtemporal phenomenon momentarily manifested in a multitude of n-dimensional horrors from outside spacetime. Abstract forms twisted and writhed under the annihilatory yoke created by the volatile interaction between the amalgam of uprooted ideospheric energies, the mass-accelerated anti-matter, and the mass-accelerated fusion missiles that struck the multiversal ceiling of the toroidal arena. Despite the near relativistic speeds of the carnage, the iridescent lens of the warp bubble that contained Turtle served as a decelerative filter for its visual feed. Between descending bands of antimemetic interference, the lambent monitors surrounding Sóse relayed an oneiric battlefield devastated beyond measure. The grotesque image of a maladroit brute, nearly 100m tall and vaguely humanoid, dominated the feed while the malformed tendrils of its limbs thrashed about in a frenzy. Taut ebony flesh, made of corrupted and condensed dreamstuff, surrounded an enormous and prismatic briolette embedded in the center of the scaled stump of its head. The gem gleamed with eldritch enmity for a series of femtoseconds that stretched into eternity before total phase-space sub-Planck cessation as the 240mm warhead struck the gnarled ceiling immediately after Ivplec’s fusillade. Monochromatic emissions of anti-matter and S-particles spread out from the point of impact at transluminal speeds. The toroid’s interior drained to grayscale in a series of hyperspeed pulses. Like cracks in a pane of glass, reality fractured. Complete causal collapse beyond Turtle’s warp bubble prompted a ZK-Class event alarm, alerting Sóse to the potential end of reality. The cybernetic operative considered the black-and-white strobe of existence outside his protective field. [i]No shit.[/i] A recursive loop of exponentially multiplying intraversal wormholes manifest with each monochrome pulse. The portals, glutted on the incalculable power of noospheric substrata, fragments of the unreal and S-Particle reactions, tore through the omniversal plenum. [i]We either go through the looking glass or wait for the warp bubble to pop. Might as well roll the dice.[/i] Turtle extricated its manipulators from the ravaged arena as the lenses of its hard light projector contracted. A series of photokinetic platforms manifest along the interior rim of the warp bubble. The experimental metals of its massive chassis groaned dully with each leg’s movement. The thrum of the zero-point reactor that powered the multiped tank reached a fever pitch. With one final step they were through the nearest wormhole.