LOGINThe first rays of dawn painted the eastern sky in hues of bruised purple and soft grey, casting a gentle light on the scene of devastation. The rooftop of the Oni Group tower looked like a war zone, but the ticking bomb had been defused. Jack stood amidst the wreckage, the cold morning air doing little to cool the lingering adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sirens were getting closer, a frantic symphony that signaled the arrival of the mundane world, a world that could never comprehend what had transpired here.
He had to disappear. Leaving a scene like this, from the top of a skyscraper that would soon be crawling with police and media, was a crisis in its own right. There was no room for error.
A quiet chime in his ear announced Aria's return. "Comms restored, Alpha. The EMP blast was... significant. I'm scrubbing the tower's internal security logs now. We have a ten-minute window before the first police unit reaches the elevators."
"Good," Jack said,
Desperation began to curdle the air in the control room. The dead man's lock was a perfect trap, an elegant, checkmate move from an enemy they had yet to even meet. Elara worked furiously, running simulations, searching for a loophole, a digital ghost in the machine, but found nothing. The system was flawless, a self-contained monolith of security."We're out of options," Marcus said, his jaw tight. He began issuing quiet orders to his men, preparing them for his last-ditch plan. "We'll use shaped charges. Try to sever the power conduit leading from the main core to the incubation chamber. The odds of a catastrophic overload are… high. But it's better than letting those things wake up."It was a suicide mission, and everyone knew it. A plan born of having no other plan."No," Jack said. The word was quiet, yet it cut through the tense preparations like a razor. Every eye turned to him. He was standing perfectly still, his gaze fixed not on the terminal, but on t
The victory over F-01 was hollow, leaving a bitter, metallic taste in the air that had nothing to do with spent gunpowder. It was the taste of a deeper, more complex fear. The timer on the central console was a relentless, blinking red eye, now showing just over 39 hours remaining. Each second that ticked by felt like a drop of water in a vessel that was about to overflow."We can't just blow them up," Marcus stated, his voice grim as he paced before the row of ominous, frost-covered pods. He had already run a dozen demolition scenarios through his head, and each ended in catastrophe. "The energy readings Elara is getting suggest these things are linked to a central power core. A brute-force breach could trigger a chain reaction. We could be looking at an explosion that would level this entire mountain."Elara, her face illuminated by the holographic interface projected from her wrist, nodded in agreement. Her usual confident energy was replaced by a focused intensity.
The air in the mine shaft, already thick with the smell of damp earth and ozone from Elara’s equipment, suddenly grew heavy, oppressive. It was a pressure change that had nothing to do with geology and everything to do with instinct. The sound that ripped through the oppressive silence was a grotesque violation of nature—a high-pitched, piercing shriek that mimicked the distress of a human infant, yet was distorted, layered with a wet, gurgling undertone that spoke of a throat not designed for such noises. It was a sound engineered to prey on the deepest, most primal fears.Every member of Marcus’s elite Ghost squad froze, their military discipline warring with the lizard-brain instinct to either flee or collapse. One of them, a mountain of a man named Cortez who boasted scars from a dozen forgotten conflicts and had a reputation for being unflappable, turned a sickly shade of green. His knuckles, gripping the forend of his assault rifle, were bone-white. He
The victory was hollow, the celebration short-lived. The shadow of Kyle’s defeat was instantly eclipsed by a far larger, more monstrous one: the Fenris Council and their "incubator." The war was over, but a new, more terrifying campaign had just begun. There was no time to rest, no time to savor the new power Jack wielded. A new clock was ticking.In the subterranean command center beneath the Sterling estate—the true nerve center of their operations—Aria projected a three-dimensional schematic of the abandoned Black Rock iron mine. It was a tangled mess of shafts and tunnels burrowing deep into the earth, a scar on the face of the nearby mountains."I've been running simulations on the manifest's sub-data," Aria said, her avatar pointing to twelve distinct red markers within the 3D map. "These containers are sophisticated. They're fitted with bio-energy sensors. According to the design specs, if the internal energy readings spike to a critical level,
The first rays of dawn painted the eastern sky in hues of bruised purple and soft grey, casting a gentle light on the scene of devastation. The rooftop of the Oni Group tower looked like a war zone, but the ticking bomb had been defused. Jack stood amidst the wreckage, the cold morning air doing little to cool the lingering adrenaline coursing through his veins. The sirens were getting closer, a frantic symphony that signaled the arrival of the mundane world, a world that could never comprehend what had transpired here.He had to disappear. Leaving a scene like this, from the top of a skyscraper that would soon be crawling with police and media, was a crisis in its own right. There was no room for error.A quiet chime in his ear announced Aria's return. "Comms restored, Alpha. The EMP blast was... significant. I'm scrubbing the tower's internal security logs now. We have a ten-minute window before the first police unit reaches the elevators.""Good," Jack said,
The countdown was a death knell, each descending number a hammer blow against Jack’s already frayed nerves. Three minutes. One hundred and eighty seconds to defeat a raging, magnetically supercharged demigod who had now turned into a walking, ticking time bomb. The rooftop, already a landscape of shattered concrete and twisted metal, began to tremble as the energy emanating from Kyle’s chest reached a critical, unstable pitch.The pain in Jack’s ribs was a white-hot scream, but he forced it down, compartmentalizing it into a box in the back of his mind. Pain was a luxury he couldn't afford.Kyle was no longer a strategist, no longer a taunting rival. The raw energy of the dying meteorite had burned away his reason, leaving only a core of pure, berserker rage. He was a cornered, mortally wounded animal, and that made him infinitely more dangerous. His eyes were no longer cunning; they were twin pits of emerald fire, devoid of all thought save for the d







