“…What,” said Hank.

The final blow came from Hank. He grabbed the propeller off his beanie, jammed it into the Crasher’s skull, and kicked it into a vat of punch that had mysteriously appeared in the center of the courtyard. The punch turned black. The bass stopped.

He grabbed the nearest soldier—who was mid-“raise the roof”—and threw him through a glass window. The soldier shattered into a spray of party streamers and digital confetti instead of blood. flashed above his corpse. Sanford and Deimos had it worse. They’d been in the armory when the mod hit.

The soldier sighed. “Worth it.”

Then he felt rage.