All Chapters of DOOMSDAY FORTRESS: THE OFFICER'S COLD BRIDE : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

SWOOSH. The heavy iron poker struck the crimson aura flaring from Betony’s left hand and vanished into thin air. Eleanor’s violent momentum carried her forward into nothingness. She stumbled hard, collapsing onto her knees, her empty hands stinging from the sudden, impossible loss of weight. She stared down at her palms, her chest heaving, her bloodshot eyes wide with sheer, horror-stricken disbelief. "What... where..." Eleanor gasped, her voice trembling violently as primal fear instantly replaced her madness. "My... my hands... what did you do?!" The front screen door banged open with a loud screech of rusted hinges. Saskia stood frozen on the threshold, her designer leather handbag slipping off her shoulder and hitting the floorboards with a dull thud. Her face was drained of all color, her jaw slack, her dark eyes wide as saucers. She had seen it—the solid iron rod evaporating like smoke inches from Betony's skull. Betony felt a faint, warm pulse hum against her index f

At 7:45 PM, the temperature inside the city was refusing to drop. Outside, the sweltering heat hung over the high-rises like an open furnace. Yet inside Unit 28B, the climate-control unit hummed smoothly on independent solar power, keeping the expansive living room at a crisp, perfectly chilled eighteen degrees Celsius.Betony sat on her plush gray sofa, a glass of cold water resting on the wooden coffee table beside her father’s fireproof steel chest.She held the TV remote, clicking the display screen to life. The high-definition monitor flared to the Regional Broadcast Network’s live channel.Betony wasn't watching out of fear or anxiety. She knew her world was changing, and the opinion of a doomed city meant nothing to her long-term survival. She was simply curious to see how far Saskia and Eleanor had pushed Chief Editor Rogers, and how dramatic their pathetic smear attempt would look on screen.She leaned back, taking a slow sip of cold water, completely unaware of the quiet sto

The heavy matte-black military transport truck rolled into the private commercial import docks, its massive diesel engine lowing like a caged beast.The wholesale district was usually a chaotic, dog-eat-dog nightmare of shouting drivers and aggressive forklift operators. But the moment Zaid’s truck ground to a halt outside the central logistics hub, the mood shifted instantly.Zaid stepped out of the driver's side, his tall, broad-shouldered frame clad in a dark, fitted tactical shirt that accentuated his commanding presence. He walked around to the passenger side, opening the door and holding out his hand for Betony.Betony placed her palm in his. His grip was warm, solid, and effortlessly steady as he helped her down to the concrete floor. He didn't let go immediately, gently keeping his fingers wrapped around hers as they walked into the main warehouse.The moment the warehouse manager saw Zaid’s face and the high-ranking military insignia on his sleeve, the man nearly tripped over

The paper money was turning into trash faster than the city could print it.By 9:00 AM, thousands of citizens lined up outside banks, hitting locked glass doors and dead ATMs. Electronic card readers across the metropolitan grid had fried when the secondary data servers overheated. Grocery stores and corner markets unplugged their registers, posting handwritten cardboard signs in their windows: CASH ONLY. NO CARDS. NO CHECKS.Inside Unit 28B, Betony stood at the kitchen island, organizing physical paper stacks and checking her remaining trade supplies.She had already converted a massive portion of her physical funds into hard wholesale assets over the past few days. But with the sudden death of digital banking, having immediate liquidity was still a crucial edge.Across town at the Regional Broadcast Network, the Fifth Avenue studio was half-empty and suffocatingly hot.Saskia pushed open the heavy glass doors of the executive suite, her heels clicking loudly on the silent marble flo

By noon on day twelve, the city smelled like a open grave.Without electrical power for three consecutive days, commercial grocery freezers, meatpacking hubs, and residential refrigerators across the metropolitan zone had completely failed. The suffocating heat had done the rest. A thick, stomach-churning stench of rotted meat, sour milk, and decaying produce hung heavy over the humid avenues, seeping through closed windows and suffocating the streets below.The frustration on the ground had reached a boiling point.Brutal, frantic riots erupted across every major district. Thousands of citizens flooded the main boulevards, smashing through storefronts, tearing down police barricades, and clashing with local law enforcement. Men and women fought like wild beasts over the contents of broken vending machines and dumpster loads of spoiled food, blinded by desperation and raging against what they believed was a temporary government failure.Inside Unit 28B, the atmosphere remained an oasi