Morning sunlight filtered through the shattered walls of the camp. The air was thick with anticipation, soldiers moving in disciplined routines while civilians cautiously stepped out from the healer tents. The rift in the sky pulsed with unstable energy, its neon blue and golden streaks twisting like threads ready to snap. Ryu stood near a broken pillar, calm expression on his face. His glove faintly pulsed, and his eyes flickered with sharp awareness—an unspoken calculation of every piece, every move. Lyra perched on a crate, spinning her dagger and speaking in a low, tense tone. “Ryu… the rift is changing faster. Something tells me this isn’t just about the last rogue betrayal. The strategist is planning something bigger.” Kael adjusted his shield, serious. “Agreed. If the strategist is manipulating the battlefield and our pieces, we’re already in a trap before it begins. Ryu, are you sensing it too?” Elira stepped closer, her worried tone soft. “Your glove is glowing a

The morning air was tense, unusually heavy over the shattered camp. Soldiers hurriedly checked weapons and armor, while civilians shifted uneasily between tents. The sky was a violent canvas of neon blue and gold streaks, the rift above widening faster than anyone could predict. Every pulse of the energy seemed to hum through the ground itself, and even the broken walls around the camp vibrated faintly. Ryu stood at the center of the camp, calm as always, his glove faintly glowing. His eyes scanned the holographic map projected in front of him, analyzing multiple points simultaneously. The soft hum of digital energy resonated with the faint pulse of his glove, and the weight of unseen possibilities seemed to hang in the air. Lyra perched on a crate nearby, spinning her dagger absentmindedly but with a sharp, calculating eye. “King… something’s off,” she said, voice tight with tension. “We’re getting reports from multiple fronts. South Quadrant, North Gate, West Barricade… all mov

The camp still hummed with energy even as the sun dipped toward the horizon. The victory at the tower had brought a temporary calm, but the air was thick with tension. Soldiers moved deliberately, checking weapons, repairing armor, and tending to injured companions. Civilians cautiously returned to their tents, glancing at the sky, where the rift above the battlefield twisted and pulsed with an eerie neon-blue and golden light, a swirling storm that hinted at chaos yet to come. Ryu stood near a shattered pillar, his posture calm, almost statuesque, his glove faintly pulsing with light. Despite the victory, his eyes were sharp, scanning the horizon, processing every detail. Around him, Lyra spun her dagger idly, Kael adjusted his shield, and Elira moved among the tents, checking the wounded and whispering prayers for those yet to wake from their injuries. Elira’s soft, worried voice broke the silence. “Ryu… your glove is glowing again. Are you feeling it? Another resonance?” Lyr

It was evening, and the camp carried a strange combination of tension and calm. Soldiers were cleaning their weapons, and the healer tents were still busy treating the injured. Civilians looked wary, but a faint glimmer of hope reflected on their faces. The rift in the sky had become even more unstable—neon blue and golden streaks twisted through the clouds as if forcing the two worlds to merge. Ryu stood by a shattered pillar, calm and composed. His glove pulsed faintly, and his face carried a rare seriousness, as if he was mentally analyzing everything. Every move of every soldier and civilian was under his observation, yet he appeared physically relaxed. Lyra sat on a crate, spinning her dagger, and Kael stood silently with his shield at his side. Elira stepped out of the healer tent and approached Ryu, her tone soft and worried. “Ryu… your glove is still pulsing. Do you feel something?” Ryu replied softly, calm yet steely. “The next phase of the board is about to begin. The

The battlefield had not yet erupted fully into the catastrophic clash that was to come. Soldiers moved cautiously, scanning the horizon, while the mechanical war-beast, now Ryu’s ally, stood tall near the frontline, its massive frame a deterrent for any enemy approaching too closely. The air was thick with tension, charged with the unstable energy from the rift above. Neon blue and golden streaks danced across the clouds, intertwining like threads of lightning, pulsating unpredictably as if the sky itself was alive. Ryu stood at the center of the camp, his glove faintly glowing, observing the soldiers and civilians alike. He was calm, but there was a storm of thought behind those eyes. Every piece, every soldier, every rogue operative—he was aware of their positions, their emotional states, even their unspoken fears. The Memory Resonance with the King version had left a subtle trace inside him, a reminder that the line between strategy and intuition was razor-thin. Lyra perched on