A towering Van Saar brute slams a grav hammer into the deckplate mid-panel, the impact exploding outward in perfect radial symmetry—ripping floor tiles into the air with cartoon-precise momentum. His armor is panel-lined and dense, each ridge highlighted with exaggerated cross-hatching and glowing with inner reactor light. The moment of impact is frozen: fists clenched, beard wild, helmet lens shattered from close-quarters damage. The grav field distortion warps background geometry, bending walls and debris in unreal parallax curves. Sound effects in jagged font stretch behind him: *THOOOM*. Glowing sigils float from his backpack emitter like comic debris, while rising smoke trails are inked in stark black curls.
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