74

You rip your way into the guards, and they rip into you. Blood streams down your chest and arms, but still you force your way through the melee, ignoring the blinding pain and lashing out with the last of your strength. Then suddenly you're out of the swarming mass! More guards raise their muskets, but their shots go wide, slamming into the backs of their allies as you run forward.

You see the lens through a red haze. Gasping for breath, you shove aside one last guard, raise your machete, and bring it down! The lens explodes in a shower of glass, tearing your face and hands…but you've done it.

"No!" Stralchus screams. You cough blood and look around. The guards are falling back, aware of their defeat. Your exhausted allies approach the ruined sun lens.

Therko's expression fills with pain when he sees you.

Stralchus, still on his throne, draws a pistol and points it at you, even as his technicians tear off their goggles and flee.