All Chapters of Rise of the Masked King: Chapter 121
- Chapter 130
171 chapters
Chapter 121: The Great Disclosure
Milan was a city on the edge of a nervous breakdown. The fashion capital was now a fortress of barricades and "Emergency Barter Centers." The Duomo, usually a place of prayer and tourism, was surrounded by soldiers in the uniform of the Italian National Guard, but their loyalty was questionable.Anthony, Sloane, and Mark moved through the city in an old delivery truck, the "Audit" logos painted over with crude graffiti."We’re meeting Vionna in the Brera district," Mark whispered, his laptop open on his knees. "She’s found a way to hijack the 'Founders' Channel'—the emergency broadcast system the Hales use to talk to the elites.""How much time do we have?" Sloane asked."Thorne is in the city. He’s tracking the 'Seed Leak' signatures. If I open the broadcast, he’ll have our location in under three minutes."They reached a nondescript apartment building, the walls scarred by recent riots. Inside, Vionna was waiting. She looked haggard, her elegant clothes replaced by a nondescript tra
Chapter 122: The Grey Market
While Anthony stood in the garden of glass, the world above was descending into a different kind of madness. In Milan, Thorne had arrived. He didn't come with soldiers; he came with a "Grey Market" team—men who specialized in "Asset Retrieval" through psychological warfare.Thorne stood at the edge of the Duomo square, watching the thousands of people pressing against the cathedral doors. He held a small, black device in his hand—a "Cognitive Jammer.""Sir, the crowd is becoming unmanageable," one of his men said. "The Italian Guard is refusing to fire.""Then don't fire on them," Thorne said, his voice flat. "Feed them."He tapped a command into the device. Suddenly, the massive LED screens in the square, which had been showing news of the riots, changed. They showed images of food—vast, steaming tables of bread, meat, and wine.But it wasn't just images. The air in the square began to smell like a bakery. A localized pheromone release, designed to trigger the primal hunger of a star
Chapter 123: The Pact of the Soil
The sun rose over Milan, illuminating a city that felt like it had been reborn. The barricades were coming down, not through violence, but through a strange, collective peace. People were sharing what they had, not because they were told to, but because they no longer feared there wouldn't be more.Anthony and Sloane stood on the steps of the Duomo, watching the crowds. Thorne had been taken into custody by the Italian Guard, but Anthony knew he was just a symptom. The real fight was still ahead. Maximillian Hale was still in his fortress, and the "Old Blood" wouldn't give up without a fight."You did it, Anthony," Sloane said, leaning her head on his shoulder. "You saved them.""I gave them a chance, Sloane," Anthony said. "But the 'Seeds' are only half the battle. We still have to build a world where the Hales can't happen again. A world where 'Transparency' isn't just a ledger, but a way of life.""And the island?" she asked, her eyes searching for him. "The garden with the coconut
Chapter 124: The Faculty of Shadows
Anthony stepped out of the craft, his heart hammering against his ribs. The laboratory was a cathedral of data—columns of light that seemed to hold up the mountain itself. Evelyn—or the projection of her—moved toward him, her footsteps making no sound on the polished floor."Is this where you’ve been?" Anthony asked, his voice thick with emotion. "Hiding in a mountain while the world starves?""I haven't been hiding, Anthony," Evelyn said. "I’ve been calculating. The Founders wanted to use the 'Drought Protocol' to cull the population. I had to stay within the network to slow them down. I had to wait for you to find the key.""She’s telling the truth, Anthony," Penhaligon said, stepping up behind him. "Your mother is the one who redirected the 'Sovereign Seeds' to Milan. She’s the reason the vault even existed. The Architects needed a way to bypass the Hale influence without starting a nuclear war."Anthony looked at his mother. "So the whole thing... the Audit, the chase, the riots..
Chapter 125: The Gilded Rubble
The silence that followed the server’s death was more terrifying than the noise. Anthony scrambled toward Sloane, his hands finding her in the dark."Sloane? Are you okay?""I'm... fine," she gasped, her voice shaky. "Where’s Thorne?"A low groan came from the corner of the room. Anthony grabbed a flashlight from the floor and shone it toward the sound. Thorne was slumped against a bookshelf, a piece of shrapnel from the server cooling fan embedded in his shoulder. He was alive, but the fight was gone.Maximillian was standing by the ruined machine, his hands clawing at the brass casing. He looked like a man who had seen his soul evaporate."It’s over, Maximillian," Anthony said, helping Sloane to her feet. "The 'Wipe' failed. The Design is still out there. And the world is waking up.""You don't understand," Maximillian whispered. "Without the Design, there is no plan. There is only... the people.""Exactly," Anthony said.Sloane leaned against him, her weight a comfort. "We need to
Chapter 126: The Brine in the Honey
The South Pacific sun was a heavy, golden hand pressing down on the island of Solace, but for the first time in six months, the warmth felt invasive. Anthony Jodah stood at the shoreline, the salt water lapping at his ankles, watching a phenomenon that no ledger could explain.A mile out, the turquoise water was turning a bruised, oily purple. It wasn't a spill; there were no ships, no rigs, no industry for a thousand miles. It was an organic bloom, a sprawling carpet of bioluminescent algae that pulsed with a rhythmic, sickly light."Anthony?"He didn't turn. He knew the sound of Sloane’s footsteps on the wet sand—firm, purposeful, yet lighter than they had been during the war. She came to stand beside him, her hand brushing his arm. She was wearing a simple sarong, her skin bronzed and glowing, but her eyes were fixed on the purple tide."It started an hour ago," Anthony said, his voice a low rasp. "It’s moving against the current, Sloane. It’s searching.""It’s just an algae bloom,
Chapter 127: The Vault of Echoes
The decision to leave Solace was a silent one. They packed light—only the essentials of their old life. As they boarded the small sea-plane Anthony had hidden on the far side of the island, he looked back at the cottage. The dream of the garden was dead, replaced by the reality of the machine."Where to?" Sloane asked, taking the pilot's seat."The Azores," Anthony said. "There’s an old Jodah 'Hydrometric Station' there. It was built in the fifties to study deep-sea currents, but my father used it as a backup for the 'Sovereign Garden.' If the algae is a network, the Azores station is the router."The flight across the Pacific was a journey through a dying world. From the air, the purple blooms were visible in every direction, stretching like bruises across the face of the planet. They saw cargo ships stalled in the water, their hulls choked by the thick, bioluminescent silk."Anthony, look," Sloane said, pointing to the radar.A fleet of black VTOLs was moving north, toward Europe. N
Chapter 128: The Architect’s Gambit
The journey back to the mainland was a slow, grueling crawl. Without the 'Wraith' or the Architects' VTOLs, they were at the mercy of the wind and the waves. They saw a world in the midst of a 'Great Reset'—not the one Julian had planned, but a chaotic, human one.In Lisbon, the streets were filled with people bartering jewelry for bread. In Paris, the Louvre was being used as a grain silo. The 'New Era' had become the 'Era of Scarcity,' but it was a scarcity that everyone shared.They found Mark and Vionna in a refugee camp outside Madrid. They were both alive, but they looked like different people. Vionna was stirring a pot of soup over an open fire; Mark was teaching a group of children how to read an analog map."The Auditor," Vionna said, a tired smile touching her lips as Anthony and Sloane approached. "You look like you've been through a war.""I think we just ended one," Anthony said, sitting down by the fire. "How’s the famine?""It’s bad," Mark said. "But the 'True Seed' for
Chapter 129: The Iron Road
The retreat from Milan was a nightmare of shadows and steam. The masked "Reclaimers" hadn't just attacked the crops; they had ignited the city’s underlying fear. By nightfall, the Duomo square was a battleground of people fighting over the remaining un-sludged soil.Anthony, Sloane, and a handful of loyalists—mostly former Jodah clerks who had traded their spreadsheets for survival—found themselves at the old Milano Centrale railway station. The grand, fascist-era architecture loomed over them, a tomb for a world that moved at three hundred kilometers per hour."We can't go by road," Sloane said, checking the magazine of her pistol. They were huddled in the darkness of a maintenance tunnel. "The Reclaimers have checkpoints on every highway. They’re looking for 'High-Value Assets.' That’s you, Anthony.""Mark said the Barcelona lab is still functional," Anthony said, looking at a hand-drawn map. "If he’s replicated the True Seed, we can start over there. But it’s a thousand miles.""No
chapter 130: The Beacon in the Dark
The siege of the Barcelona lab was not a battle; it was a liquidation. The Reclaimers didn't use tear gas or flashbangs. They used 'Neural-Dampeners'—low-frequency sound waves that turned the inner ear into a source of agonizing vertigo.Anthony stumbled through the dark tunnels beneath the university, his hands on the cold, damp walls. Behind him, he could hear the heavy boots of the Echelon Six teams. They moved with a terrifying silence, their white masks flickering in the dim emergency lights."This way!" Mark hissed, pulling a hidden lever in the brickwork.A section of the wall swung open, revealing an old sewer line that smelled of ancient rot. They scrambled inside, Sloane bringing up the rear, her rifle barking three times as she suppressed the first wave of attackers."Vionna, stay with me!" Anthony called out, but Vionna had stopped.She was leaning against the wall, her face pale, her hands clutching her stomach. The 'Neural-Dampeners' were hitting her harder than the othe