​When Liya woke, the silence of the Sanctuary was gone.​The cavernous warehouse echoed with the screech of welding torches, the rhythmic thud of heavy machinery, and the low murmur of voices planning a felony.​She sat up on the cot, her body stiff but no longer screaming in critical condition. The sleep had restored her Core Power to 60%. Not full, but enough to kill something if she had to.​Rise and shine, Commander, Zane’s voice was crisp, lacking the static that usually accompanied his fatigue. Your army has been busy.​Liya stood, smoothed her jumpsuit, and walked out onto the mezzanine.​Below, the Sanctuary had transformed. The rogues hadn't just cleaned up; they had set up shop.​Kael, the heavy with the cybernetic jaw, was under the chassis of a massive Chen Logistics armored van, sparks flying as he welded reinforced plating to the undercarriage.​Vara was at the comms station, surrounded by three floating holographic screens, dissecting a complex 3D map of the city’s high

​The connection was instant and agonizing.​As soon as Kael engaged the siphon valve, the violet liquid in the tank didn't just flow; it lashed out. It sought a vessel, and Liya was the only conduit.​The Condensed Entropy hit her Widow’s Veil suit like a physical hammer. The nanoweave fibers flared white-hot, struggling to convert the raw, dirty Scion runoff into usable bio-energy.​"Warning!" Rix screamed over the whine of the machinery. "Input pressure is at 300%! You're going to melt the intake ports!"​"Hold it!" Liya grit her teeth, her back arching as the energy flooded her nervous system. It felt like ice water injected directly into her marrow.​Focus, Liya! Zane’s voice was a roar, fighting to be heard over the static in her mind. Don't let it pool in your heart. Cycle it! Push it to the Core!​[ENERGY INTAKE: +500... +1,200...][SYSTEM WARNING: VESSEL CAPACITY EXCEEDED.][INITIATING EMERGENCY EXPANSION.]​Liya fell to her knees in the wet tunnel, her hand still magnetically

​The Sanctuary hummed with the sound of cooling fans running at maximum RPM.​In the center of the room, Zane sat on a reinforced crate, cables running from his exposed spine into the main generator. He was recharging, his violet muscle fibers glowing rhythmically. Every few minutes, a spark would arc from his shoulder, causing him to twitch, but he didn't make a sound.​Liya stood by the war table, watching Rix type furiously.​"We can't just knock on his door," Liya said, adjusting the cuffs of a fresh suit she’d pulled from her emergency stash—white silk, sharp and authoritative. "The Architect hides behind layers of shell companies, politicians, and private armies. If we attack him directly, he vanishes."​"HE FEARS THE LIGHT," Zane rumbled, his voice vibrating the floor. He disconnected the cables and stood up, steam rising from his shoulders. "HE OPERATES ON THE PREMISE THAT HUMANS ARE CATTLE. UNAWARE. DOCILE."​"So we wake the cattle," Vara finished, checking the charge on her

​The roof of the world was drowning in noise. The wind howled at hurricane speeds, tearing at Liya’s silk suit and whipping the rain into blinding sheets. Below them, the city was a canyon of fire and sirens, the chaos of the broadcast rippling outward like a shockwave.​But up here, the only sound that mattered was the thrumming, god-like resonance of the Leviathan Suit.​Zane stood ten meters away, crouched low, his clawed hands digging into the obsidian tiles for traction. He was a horrifying sight in the strobe-light flashes of lightning. Steam billowed constantly from his exposed, violet musculature as the cold rain hit his superheated form. The chunk missing from his shoulder was a stark reminder of his fragility; black carbon bone glistened wetly amidst the raw, twitching meat.​"FORTY MINUTES, COMMANDER," Zane growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Liya’s chest plates. He didn't look at her; his burning white eyes were locked on the chrome giant. "MY INTEGRITY IS DRO

​The sky over Manhattan didn't turn black; it turned the color of a fresh bruise.​As the three red pillars on the horizon intensified, the atmosphere itself seemed to thicken. The "Purge Protocol" wasn't a carpet-bombing—it was an atmospheric rewrite.​"Pressure is spiking!" Rix yelled, shielding his eyes from the glare of the monitors in the Spire's penthouse command center. "The Architects are ionising the oxygen. They’re turning the air into a conductor!"​"THEY ARE PREPARING THE SKY-STRIKE," Zane said. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his new metallic-violet hide reflecting the lightning. "THEY WILL USE THE CITY’S OWN POWER GRID TO ARC LIGHTNING INTO EVERY BUILDING, EVERY STREET. A TOTAL RESET."​Liya looked at the city below. The rioting had stopped, replaced by a terrified, suffocating silence as the air began to hum with static. People were clutching their chests, their hair standing on end.​"If that lightning hits, the casualty count will be in the millions," Liya w