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Fractured Freedom
Author: Papichilow
last update2025-11-26 19:20:40

Jace Varn hit the rubble-strewn street hard, the escape pod's crash jolting his bones like a bad landing from a rooftop chase. Level 8 power coursed through him, HP steady at 360 despite the dents, chip mastery perk turning the System from cage to toolkit but the sky-tower's collapse lit the night like a bonfire. Chunks of glass and steel rained down, smashing into the slums below, while New Cascadia howled in full blackout panic. No more glowing holo-ads, no drone hum, just screams, fires, and the crackle of shorted implants. The core was toast, Architects' AI heart shattered, but freedom? It tasted like ash and blood.

Lena groaned beside him, leg twisted badly from the elite's crush, shock rifle smoking in her grip. "We... we fucking did it, Varn." Her voice cracked, pain mixing with that fierce grin. Milo scrambled from his own pod crash nearby, cyber-eye fritzing static, yelling over the chaos. "Core's dead! Feeds gone, players dropping like flies, quests wiped!"

Jace staggered up
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  • Echoes of the Unbroken

    Jace Varn climbed out of the undercity muck, water streaming off his jacket like the last tears of a dying system. The final shard's implosion still rang in his ears, a digital scream cut short, leaving silence heavier than the bay's fog. Level 10 surged through him, HP maxed at 500 feeling godlike, Fracture Rule perk humming with infinite bends, but victory tasted bittersweet. The cavern collapse had buried the remnants, but Kira's crew dragged her out barely breathing, arm a mangled wreck of shard metal and flesh. Lena leaned on her crutch, shock rifle slung, face smeared with grime and blood. Milo fiddled with his sparking eye, muttering curses at the water damage."Shards gone," Jace said, voice rough over the drip-drip of tunnels. His HUD, fully his now, a clean slate of blue overlays, scanned the team: Allies Stable, City Fractures Stabilizing. No more Architect pings, no purge threats, just the raw pulse of New Cascadia clawing back to life. Players across the slums felt it too

  • Shard Storm

    Jace Varn trudged through the bay's muddy outskirts, water sloshing in his boots from the bunker flood, the hijacked elite's chip shard tucked safely in his jacket. Level 9 hit like a stim rush, HP capped at 400, mastery Lv. 2 letting him twitch player signals like puppet strings but the weight dragged. One shard down, two left, per the fractured maps, but New Cascadia was waking meaner. Blackouts lingered in patches, holo-ads sputtering back to life with corp emergency bullshit, while players, free or glitching, formed packs in the ruins. Some hailed Jace as the breaker, others hunted for scraps of the old power. Lena limped beside him, crutch digging ruts, her shock rifle slung low. Milo trailed, rig backpack humming as he scanned for tails."Second shard's in the old factory district," Jace said, voice gravel from the swim. HUD, his remastered beast, pulsed the spot: a derelict corp plant turned Architect hideout, buried under rusting assembly lines. "Heavier guard now. They know w

  • Fractured Freedom

    Jace Varn hit the rubble-strewn street hard, the escape pod's crash jolting his bones like a bad landing from a rooftop chase. Level 8 power coursed through him, HP steady at 360 despite the dents, chip mastery perk turning the System from cage to toolkit but the sky-tower's collapse lit the night like a bonfire. Chunks of glass and steel rained down, smashing into the slums below, while New Cascadia howled in full blackout panic. No more glowing holo-ads, no drone hum, just screams, fires, and the crackle of shorted implants. The core was toast, Architects' AI heart shattered, but freedom? It tasted like ash and blood.Lena groaned beside him, leg twisted badly from the elite's crush, shock rifle smoking in her grip. "We... we fucking did it, Varn." Her voice cracked, pain mixing with that fierce grin. Milo scrambled from his own pod crash nearby, cyber-eye fritzing static, yelling over the chaos. "Core's dead! Feeds gone, players dropping like flies, quests wiped!"Jace staggered up

  • Core Breach

    Jace Varn crashed through the squat's door, lungs burning from the tower sprint, the elite's fried chip smell still clinging to his jacket like bad luck. Level 7 surged through him—HP maxed at 320, purge resist perk humming like a shield against the inevitable wipe—but the win felt hollow. Tower feeds crippled meant system blackouts hitting hard: holo-ads frozen mid-pitch, drones dropping from the skies like dead bugs, players screaming in the streets about glitched quests. Architects were reeling, but that meant desperation. Cloak down to 6 hours, bounty screaming Ultra High - Purge Imminent. No more small hits; the AI core squatted in the sky-tower penthouse, heart of the beast."Core's next," Jace rasped, slamming the looted node shard on the table. It pulsed faint, data scraps teasing overrides. Lena winced, nursing her bruises with a stim patch, while Milo jacked into a rig, cyber-eye spinning wild. "We cracked their eyes—now rip the heart. End this chip nightmare."Lena shot him

  • Tower's Edge

    Jace Varn slumped in the squat's corner, the fresh burn from that plasma graze throbbing like hell under his armor. Level 6 hit differently—HP at 280 felt like he could take a truck, error cascade skill buzzing in his veins like extra coffee—but the high crashed quickly. Outside, Bay Market riots raged on, screams and booms shaking the walls, players and gangs tearing into each other over the blackout chaos. Architects' eyes were half-blind from the node fry, but that Level 9 elite? He'd be back with friends, and the cloak timer blinked down to 10 hours. No breathing room."Next hit's the tower edge," Jace said, voice rough, tapping the looted map. Sky-tower fringes loomed in his HUD—NeoTech's lower spire, a mid-level relay node pulsing data to the big AI core up top. "Sabotage there, we cripple their recovery. Quests stay glitched longer."Lena snorted, wrapping fresh bandages around her arm, blood spotting the rag. "Sky-tower? That's corp heaven, Varn. Armed drones, bio-scans, elite

  • Market Mayhem

    Jace Varn leaned against the squat's grimy wall, the weight of fresh loot pads pressing into his side like guilty secrets. The underhive collapse still echoed in his ears—screams cut short by glitch storm booms, players fried in their own game. Level 5 buzzed through him, HP at 240 feeling like armor plating, but the bounty tag burned hotter: High Priority Anomaly - 10k Credits. New Cascadia's underbelly was whispering his name, rivals sniffing for the payout. Outside, the slums churned wild—relay glitches making holo-ads flicker crazy, drones dropping like drunk flies. Architects were scrambling, but that meant elites closing in fast."Bay Market's our shot," Jace said, spreading the decrypted maps on a rickety table. Lena hovered close, her breath sharp with leftover adrenaline, while Milo poked at a looted chip with his multi-tool. The market was a beast—sprawling black-market maze under the bay overpass, stalls hawking everything from bootleg stims to neural hacks. Underbelly hid

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