Thousands of pixel cubes fell like a rain of digital glass, fading into nothingness before they could touch the concrete floor. The Threshold Guardian entity had been conceptually deleted. As the cosmic program vanished, the laws of physics that had been suspended came crashing back down on the Main Reactor Room with a brutal force. BLAAAM! Gravity returned to normal. The concrete debris, the remains of the reactor metal, and the pools of poisonous water that had been floating in the air all fell to the ground at once. Elian's feet lost their cosmic buoyancy. The silver-haired young man staggered forward, panting heavily. The golden rings in his eyes flickered dimly, a sign that his Divine Vessel had just been forced to burn energy beyond its cooling threshold. Before Elian's knees could hit the rough asphalt floor, a pair of incredibly large, jet-black arms caught his body.

The sun had just set behind the remains of Jakarta's skyscrapers, pulling down the curtain of night that always brought terror to the survivors. In the Monas courtyard, darkness was an old enemy that had not yet been fully forgiven. Even though the two million people there had been cured of the Vespera parasite thanks to the Phoenix Serum, the trauma of weeks living as Hollows hiding in the shadows could not be erased so easily. As soon as the sunlight disappeared, a cold chill of fear began to creep up from the asphalt. The only source of light in the Cakra Biru Republic's makeshift public kitchen area was the flames from a few zinc drums filled with firewood and dry trash. The black smoke billowed, stinging the eyes. Lina wiped her forehead with the back of her dirty-cloth-wrapped arm. The girl stood behind a large pot, distributing the last of the sardine and wild cassava porridge to a long line of citizens holding pl

The Cosmo Express convoy cut through the streets of M.H. Thamrin. The darkness of night, which usually served as a blanket of terror for this dead city, had now been forcefully torn away. Rows of streetlights shone brightly, casting white and yellow light that reflected off the cracked glass of the skyscrapers. A giant LED billboard at the HI Roundabout flickered, spitting out the last remnants of old-world advertisements. The scene felt incredibly surreal, a metropolitan metropolis in ruins, yet breathing again with the flow of electricity from the Banten Nuclear Power Plant. The command jeep, driven by Colonel Badra, stopped right in the courtyard of City Hall. Cheers erupted like a roaring wave. The two million people who packed the Monas area chanted Elian's name. They prostrated themselves, cried, and waved their hands at the convoy. This dazzling light was absolute proof that they had reclaimed their civilization.<

The courtyard below the Sarinah Building should have been the busiest spot in the Central Sector today. Since morning, a white makeshift medical tent with a blue cross logo had been set up there, right under the stairwell access to Lina's hydroponic farm. However, instead of a long line of people scrambling for safety, the atmosphere around the tent felt deserted. So deserted that the sound of the wind blowing the last of the dust on M.H. Thamrin street was clearly audible. Behind a folding table, Gramps Constantin sat with an upright posture that hinted at his fatigue. In front of him was a cryogenic cooler containing hundreds of second doses of the Phoenix Serum, a booster vaccine that was mandatory to ensure the Vespera parasite was truly dead down to its genetic roots. "Gramps," Budi, the former pharmacy student who was now wearing a medical vest, piped up, twirling a still-sealed syringe. The young man looked to his

This was the third hour. A vein on Elian's left temple was throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat. The silver-haired young man sat leaning back in a red velvet chair, its foam padding poking out. This place used to be the main movie theater in a mall near City Hall. Now, its big screen had been torn down, replaced by a makeshift wooden stage. The hundreds of audience seats were filled with citizen representatives from various refugee sectors. The air in the room was incredibly stuffy, smelling of sour sweat, bad breath, and a social tension that was ready to explode at any moment. Elian closed his eyes behind his dark aviator sunglasses. In his chest, the Divine Vessel, capable of leveling skyscrapers, was churning, demanding to be released. But Protocol 01 in his brain flashed a bright red, tightly chaining his divine power. He had just killed the General of Death, hacked a Nuclear Power Plant, and mechanically clashed