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Chapter 133: Playground Protocol
The Vector 15’s engines screamed as Johnny pushed them past their recommended limits, the city blurring into a streak of gray and glass beneath them. The descent into the downtown park was less a landing and more a controlled crash, the ship skidding to a halt on the manicured grass, tearing a long, ugly scar across the field. Before the ramp had fully lowered, Axel was already moving, a plasma axe in each hand. “Try not to wreck the only ride we’ve got, Frosty!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Hey, we’re on a schedule! Aesthetic landings are a luxury we can’t afford!” Johnny shot back, leaping out behind her, his hands already glowing with a pale blue light. The scene before them was a nightmare painted in primary colors. The portal, a sickly violet tear in the air, hung directly over the swingset, dripping motes of corrosive energy that sizzled on the plastic slides. The monsters hulking, bipedal hyena like creatures, but their rusted metal hides were streaked with fresh
Chapter 132: No Rest For The Wicked
Johnny and Axel pushed through the heavy doors of the HQ barracks, the scent of greasy pizza and street food still clinging to them, a stark contrast to the sterile, recycled air. The brief illusion of a normal afternoon had been thoroughly shattered by the acidic puddle of snail monster goo. "Next time, I'm picking the date spot," Axel grumbled, though the edge in her voice was dulled by the shared, absurd experience. "Somewhere with less… spontaneous interdimensional fauna." "Hey, it was memorable!" Johnny countered, a grin finally returning to his face. "And you have to admit, you looked pretty awesome wielding that pizza stand. Very… rustic chic warrior." Before Axel could retort, they spotted Carter emerging from the command center, her face pale and drawn. She looked like she hadn't slept, the weight of the secret she carried clear in the tightness around her eyes. "Hey, you two," she said, her voice tired. "I heard you checked in. Everything okay?" Johnny’s grin
Chapter 131: To Me My Herald
The polished serenity of Derek West's office vanished as the secret door slid shut behind him. The air in the hidden chamber was thick, humming with a power that was both ancient and utterly alien. It was cold, but it was the cold of deep space, not of ice. The obsidian walls seemed to drink the light from the single source in the room: a complex, pulsating pattern of deep crimson light etched into the floor. The markings were not of any language known to man; they were jagged, spiraling, and seemed to shift if stared at for too long, hinting at a geometry that hurt the mind to comprehend. Derek West, the titan of industry, the master of the most powerful corporation on Earth, fell to his knees in the center of the pattern. His head bowed not in fear, but in rapturous submission. "Welcome, my herald." The voice did not come from the air. It did not echo. It manifested directly inside his skull, a silken, multi layered whisper that was at once seductive and utterly terrifying. I
Chapter 130: Meet Up
The "usual place" was a small, unassuming coffee shop with outdoor seating, a neutral ground. Kyle arrived first, choosing a table in the corner where the morning sun was warm but not blinding. He nursed a black coffee, his senses on high alert, every nerve ending buzzing with a tension that had nothing to do with caffeine. Sophie arrived exactly at noon. She moved with an efficient, purposeful grace, her posture perfect in a tailored business suit that looked out of place in the casual café. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her eyes, so like their mother’s, were hidden behind sleek, reflective sunglasses. She sat down without a greeting, placing her tablet on the table between them like a shield. “Kyle,” she said, her voice a cool, professional monotone. “Sophie,” he replied, matching her tone. “You look… busy.” “I am.” She signaled a waiter and ordered an espresso. “How are you?” The question was so robotic, so devoid of genuine interest, it was almost laugh
Chapter 129: Memories
The warmth of Samantha’s apartment, the rich aroma of coffee, and the simple comfort of her presence created a fragile bubble around Kyle. The horrors of the deserts, swamps, and dams felt like a bad dream from another life. He leaned into it, letting her soft words and familiar touch ground him. “I mean it, Kyle,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion. She shifted closer on the couch, her body aligning with his. “Every time you leave, a part of me is terrified it’s the last time I’ll see you. Seeing you walk through that door…” She trailed off, her eyes glistening. She didn’t wait for a response. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him again. This wasn’t the desperate, relieved kiss from the doorway. This was slower, deeper, a deliberate rekindling of a connection stretched thin by constant danger. Heat bloomed between them, an intense, familiar electricity that burned away the lingering chill of fear and grief. For a long, breathless moment, there was no impe
Chapter 128: A Break {pt.2}
The silence of the barracks was oppressive. Rush sat on the edge of his bunk, the image of the General’s empty chair in the command center burned into his mind. The man had been a hardass, but he’d been their hardass. He’d given Rush a purpose, a place where his skills mattered beyond his tragic past. Now, that anchor was gone. His eyes landed on Strawberry. She was sitting on her assigned bunk, legs dangling, not reading, not sleeping, just… existing. She looked small, but not vulnerable. It was a different kind of small. A contained kind. Yet, in the quiet aftermath of loss, Rush saw something he hadn’t before: a profound, ancient loneliness. It mirrored his own. He wasn’t good with people. He was good with data, with plans, with the clean logic of a mission parameter. But something compelled him to stand up and walk over to her. “Hey,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than he intended. She looked up, her expression its usual serene blank slate. “This place is… gri
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