Blood on the Asphalt biker のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Dax didn't drop the Chairman. He slowly lowered the trembling executive back to the marble floor, his hands lingering on the ruined lapels of the man's bespoke suit. The silence in the shattered boardroom was heavier than the falling airship had been."The Architects," I repeated, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. I stepped away from the ruined mahogany table, my boots crunching on broken crystal. "You intercepted the Deep-Void signal. That wasn't supposed to happen for another three years.""Time is a relative metric when you're dealing with quantum listening posts," the Chairman gasped, rubbing his throat. He looked at us not with the arrogance of a ruler, but with the hollow, dead-eyed stare of a man who knew the executioner was already walking up the steps. "We caught the echo of their fleet six months ago. A massive armada of void-matter, vectoring straight for Earth. They don't want to conquer us, Steele. They want to sterilize the sector.""So you built a cage," Dax growle

The security feed on the glass console was crisp, 4K resolution, and utterly terrifying.I leaned heavily against the railing of the Red-Queen’s core, my father gripping my shoulder to keep me upright. My physical body felt hollow, drained by the massive energy transfer required to lock the planetary shield in place. But my mind was hyper-lucid, tethered to the Citadel’s internal sensors.I was watching the man I loved stand alone against a god of deletion.The Null-Commander didn't move like the foot soldiers. It didn't glide. It took heavy, deliberate steps. Its body wasn't fluid; it was a shifting nightmare of jagged, obsidian geometry that seemed to absorb the ambient light of the lobby. In its right hand, it held a blade a six-foot-long sword of pure, unadulterated void. Wherever the blade passed, the air itself crackled as oxygen molecules were unwritten from existence."Wolves," Dax’s voice was dangerously quiet over the comms. "Fall back. Get Tank to the medical bay on Level 4

Three hours in the Citadel’s R&D labs felt like three seconds.My father, Chen Wei, didn't just modify the bikes. He performed digital alchemy. He stripped the roaring, fire-breathing Dirty Drives we had used to assault the airship and replaced them with something terrifyingly sublime: Closed-Loop Sub-Ether Cores.I stood in the subterranean hangar, staring at the Sovereign and the Interceptor. They didn't look like motorcycles anymore; they looked like shadows carved into the shape of motorcycles.To achieve absolute stealth, my father had coated the chassis in a molecular layer of quantum-coolant scavenged from the Board’s mainframe vats. The chrome was gone. The paint was gone. The bikes were now a matte, light-absorbing Vantablack."No exhaust," my father explained, his voice hushed in the cavernous room, wiping his grease-stained hands on a rag. "The Origin-Code combustion is entirely internalized. The heat isn't vented; it's shunted into a sub-spatial pocket. To thermal optics,

The horizon wasn't a line; it was a collapsing ceiling.Above the desolate ash of the Radiation-Sea, the Nullity Armada was descending. Massive, geometric drop-ships black monoliths that absorbed the starlight were detaching from the main fleet, dropping toward the wasteland like falling tombstones.Behind us, the six Null-Stalkers were gaining ground, their multi-jointed limbs eating up the distance with terrifying, silent speed.And beneath me, the Sovereign was dying."Engine core at negative one hundred and forty degrees!" I yelled over the comms, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. Frost was crawling up the matte-black gas tank, spreading across the digital dash in jagged, fractal patterns. The closed-loop cooling system my father had installed was working too well. Without venting the heat, the localized thermodynamics were flash-freezing the engine block."Push through it, Ghost!" Dax roared back, his Interceptor holding the point position in our diamond formation. "We're fifte

The freight elevator ascending to the roof of the Citadel was a metal box of rattling nerves and deafening silence.Every few seconds, the elevator shaft shuddered violently as another blind anti-matter beam hammered against the Phase-Shield miles above us. Dust fell from the ceiling grating, dusting our shoulders in a fine layer of grey ash.Dax stood beside me, his phased combat knife held loosely in his right hand, his SMG slung across his back. He didn't look at the floor numbers ticking upward on the digital display. He looked at me."Ghost," he said, his voice barely audible over the mechanical hum of the lift. "When the shield drops, the entire Armada is going to get a lock on this building. It won't be a blind bombardment anymore. It will be a localized deletion strike.""I know," I said, adjusting the heavy data-deck strapped to my forearm. The Origin-Code pulsing in my veins felt like liquid adrenaline, sharp and electric. "The mass driv