All Chapters of The Billionaire Alpha's Revenge: Chapter 251 - Chapter 260

The air inside Nea-Thule smelled different. It didn't smell like ice or ozone anymore. It smelled like formaldehyde and old copper.We moved through the "Welcome Center," which was less of a lobby and more of a cathedral dedicated to genetic arrogance. The architecture was imposing—brutalist angles mixed with organic curves, like H.R. Giger had redesigned an Apple Store.Valerius was on edge. His claws were out, scraping against the polished floor with an irritating skree-skree sound. He was sniffing the air constantly, his upper lip curling in disgust."It smells like death here," he muttered. "Not fresh death. Stale. Rotting.""It's a museum," I said, pointing to the holographic plaques that flickered to life as we walked past. "Specifically, the Museum of Failures."We entered a long, curved hallway lined with massive cylindrical glass tanks. Most of them were dark, filled with murky fluid and vague, floating shapes. But as we approached, the proximity sensors engaged. Internal lig

The door was a masterpiece of sadistic engineering.In most secure facilities, you scan a retina or a fingerprint. Maybe a voice print. But Nea-Thule was built by the Precursors—or perhaps the original Elders—who believed that authority wasn't about genetics alone. It was about will.The "Pain Threshold Interface" wasn't designed to injure you permanently. It was designed to simulate the nervous signals of catastrophic injury. It hijacked your neural pathways and screamed DYING into your brain, just to see if you would flinch. If you pulled your hand back before the download was complete, the door stayed locked. And the guillotine blade inside the hole would likely take your hand as a souvenir."This is insane," Marcus rumbled, looking into the dark orifice of the machine. "Jack, you can't do this. Your system is already under massive strain from the Entropy corrosion. A neural shock like this could stop your heart.""He's right," Haley whispered, loo

The three Titans didn't roar. Machines don't need to posture. They just accelerated.The ground shook as thirty tons of antique metal charged us. The one with the rotary saw—let's call him "Buzz"—took the lead, the blade spinning up with a shriek that set my teeth on edge."Scatter!" Marcus yelled.He slammed his shield into the ground, activating the energy barrier just as Buzz collided with him. CLANG. The impact sent Marcus sliding back ten feet, his boots carving trenches in the dirt. The energy shield flickered dangerously."I can't hold them all!" Marcus gritted out.I scrambled to the right, diving behind a pile of scrap metal as the Flamethrower Titan unleashed a stream of liquid fire where I had been standing. The heat singed my eyebrows."Valerius!" I shouted. "Do something! You're the heavy hitter!"Valerius was standing near the wall. He was fast enough to dodge the Hammer Titan's swing easily. He leaped onto a pillar, looki

The final chamber was not cold. It was warm.It was designed to mimic a womb. Soft, amber light pulsed from the walls. The air was humid and smelled of nutrient fluid and ozone.In the center of the room, on a raised dais, stood two vertical pods. They were pristine, untouched by the decay that plagued the rest of the city.One was labeled Subject Zero-Pater.The other, Subject Zero-Mater.I stopped at the foot of the dais. My legs felt like lead. This was it. The reason I had fought through the frozen hell, the reason I had endured the Entropy Curse, the reason I had become a monster."Jack?" Haley whispered. She hung back near the door, sensing the intimacy of the moment. Even Ben stopped typing on his calculator."It's them," I whispered.I walked up the steps. I looked into the first pod.My father. The real one. Not the hologram. He looked younger than I remembered, his face unlined by the stress of the years he had missed. He floate

The sky to the south tore open.It wasn't a metaphor. The clouds were literally sheared apart by the sonic boom of something moving at Mach 5."Incoming bogeys!" Marcus yelled, tracking the radar on his HUD. "Multiple contacts! Fifty... no, a hundred! They're moving too fast for standard propulsion!"Silver streaks painted the sky. They weren't missiles. They were drones. But not the cheap, plastic quadcopters the Council used for surveillance. These were "Valkyrie" models—sleek, chrome-plated killers with swept-forward wings and engines that burned with a clean, white flame.They didn't attack us. They swarmed beneath the falling bombardment rounds.The Fenrir's Fang fired its first volley—massive tungsten rods designed to punch through bunkers.The Valkyries intercepted them.It was like watching a ballet of violent mathematics. Three drones would converge on a falling rod, fire high-intensity gravity-tethers to alter its trajectory,