The first rays of dawn were already slicing through the city skyline when the tremors began again, subtle yet insistent. The Waking City, usually obedient under the guiding hand of Ethan Cross, quivered faintly as if anticipating a storm. The Fractured Veins had been temporarily stabilized, yet a new menace rose from the shadows—an insidious force determined not merely to destabilize infrastructure or loyalty, but to fracture the very foundation of the alliance Ethan had painstakingly built.Ava stood beside him on the Valente terrace, golden light radiating from her aura, hands hovering over the veins of the city, sensing every fluctuation. “It’s worse than we feared,” she murmured, voice taut. “The fractures are no longer isolated. They’ve coordinated tremors, infiltrators, and misinformation in ways that force even our most loyal factions to hesitate. The alliance itself… it’s at risk of collapse.”Ethan’s golden eyes flared, shadows coiling along the terrace like living serpents.

The city was quiet—too quiet. For the first time in weeks, the tremors had slowed to a whisper, and yet every shadow, every street, every pulse of energy beneath the Waking City seemed to hum with anticipation. Ethan Cross stood atop the Valente terrace, golden aura flaring faintly in the pre-dawn light. Around him, the city lay both calm and tense, a paradox only the God of War could fully interpret.Ava appeared beside him, her golden threads coiling through the veins beneath the city like protective serpents. “The Masked Convergence is contained,” she said, voice quiet but taut. “But it was only a warning, Ethan. They’ve learned from every failure. They’ve adapted. And now… it’s time for us to strike back.”Ethan’s golden eyes flared, shadows coiling around him like living chains. “Veins of Retribution,” he murmured, the words resonating like the echo of a war horn. “It is not enough to defend. To ensure consequence, to enforce inevitability, we must move beyond reaction. Retributi

The Waking City stretched beneath Ethan Cross like a living organism, veins of light and shadow coiling through streets, alleys, and underground conduits. The night air was thick with tension, carrying whispers of fear, anticipation, and awe. Tremors still lingered faintly from the Return of the General, subtle reminders that the enemy had learned, adapted, and would escalate. But tonight, Ethan’s golden aura flared, a storm of inevitability preparing to reclaim not just the city, but dominance over every faction, every infiltrator, and every mythic construct that dared challenge him.Ava stood beside him, golden threads wrapping around her like serpents poised to strike. “The city is primed,” she said softly, voice taut. “Every faction, every leader, every energy node… all are aligned for the offensive. The enemy anticipates retaliation, but not the scale you are about to unleash. They’ll try to counteract, but every step they take… has already been anticipated.”Ethan’s golden eyes

Even after the Siege of Shadows, its veins pulsed faintly with tension, carrying whispers of fear, anticipation, and the lingering presence of those who had survived Ethan Cross’s relentless mastery. But tonight, a new anomaly stirred—a shadow within shadows, a hunter who did not strike with brute force but with calculation, cunning, and mythic perception. They called him the Phantom Detective.Ethan stood atop the Valente terrace, golden aura flaring faintly in the pre-dawn haze. Beneath him, streets twisted and coiled with life, energy nodes thrummed, and faint tremors reminded the city that mastery had been imposed—but vigilance was eternal.Ava appeared beside him, golden threads coiling like serpents. “He’s different,” she said quietly. “Not just infiltrator or general. Not brute or mythic construct. He operates in perception, intuition, and deduction. He anticipates the God of War without being seen, leaving traces but never fully revealing himself. Every investigation, every mo

Even in the aftermath of the Convergence of Shadows, whispers lingered in every alleyway, every boardroom, and every hidden conduit. Factional leaders, once fractured by fear and ambition, now moved with cautious precision. Tremors beneath the streets still pulsed faintly—reminders of Ethan Cross’s mastery—but tonight, the battlefield was no longer solely physical. Tonight, the war would shift into negotiation, into subtle dominance, into The Exchange.Ethan Cross stood atop the Valente terrace, golden aura flaring faintly in the dim urban haze. Below, the streets were alive with movement: armored vehicles, discreet bodyguards, and emissaries moving between districts like chess pieces on an invisible board. The factions, both legitimate and criminal, had been summoned under strict pretense of negotiation. But Ethan knew better—there would be no simple dialogue tonight. Every word, every gesture, every subtle shift in perception would be a weapon.Ava appeared beside him, golden thread