2025-11-27 11:43:16
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27 - Sleeping Sovereign
The orange glow of the Scorch-Scale Sovereign descended from the zenith of the sky, casting long, twisting shadows across the drowned ruins of Washington D.C. William, crouched behind the shattered limestone railing of the Arlington Memorial Bridge, gripped the handle of his Gauss Cannon tight, his knuckles white inside the Aegis-Vanguard gauntlets.He expected a siege. The Spydar in his accessory slot was screaming predictive warnings about thermal spikes and mana pressure. In his experience, a Boss Monster returning to its lair after a patrol was hyper-vigilant—a predator checking its territory for intruders before settling down.Wil
26 - Ghost's wrath
The Scorch-Scale Sovereign was a distant, orbiting star in the blackened sky, its thermal pressure turning the D.C. basin into a stifling oven. But the heat radiating from William was entirely internal.He stood in the shadows of the Arlington Memorial Bridge, the golden Diplomatic Link cards heavy in his inventory—a physical weight of failure. He had been played. Cecelia Wu, the "mid-grade warrior," had checkmated him in a game of 4D chess while he was busy congratulating himself on finding a radar."Stupid," William hissed, his voice cracking with frustration. "Arrogant."He slammed his fist against the concrete piling. The impact cracked the stone.The anger wasn't just about the deception; it was about the vulnerability. He had allowed himself to become predictable. He had prioritized hoarding over partnership, and in doing so, he had handed the leverage to someone else.He looked at the countdown on his Spydar. Sector 1 (Sky): Sovereign Patrol Cycle. Remaining Time: 9 Hours.Nine
25 - Diplomat's trap
William had just cleared the Pentagon’s watergate, the Spydar humming invisibly in his accessory slot, when the world turned orange.It wasn't the soft hue of a sunset. It was the violent, shimmering orange of a kiln being opened.The predictive algorithm of the Spydar screamed a warning in his retinal display—Thermal Spike Detected. Sector 1 (Capitol) Initiating Launch.—but William didn't need the A-Grade accessory to tell him the sky was burning.From the drowned center of the National Mall, three miles away, the Scorch-Scale Sovereign took flight.It was a terrifying majesty. The A-Grade Boss didn't flap wings; it didn't have any. It simply uncoiled from the shattered rotunda of the Capitol Building, rising on a column of superheated air that instantly flash-boiled the surrounding swamp water. A massive plume of steam, white and dense, erupted upwards, only to be blown apart by the creature’s sheer thermal pressure.The dragon ascended, its long, serpentine body undulating through
24 - Pentagon's eye
William retreated from the petrified white forest of the National Mall, slipping back into the murky safety of the swollen Potomac. He didn't stop until he was aboard his yacht, anchored behind the crumbling concrete shield of the Arlington Memorial Bridge. The heat radiating from the Scorch-Scale Sovereign was still palpable, a ghostly warmth clinging to his armor even in the cool, filtered air of the ship’s cabin.He sat at the console, the holographic display casting a blue glow over his face. He uploaded the encrypted packet to Cecelia: a high-resolution snapshot of the petrified forest, the A-Grade Sovereign, and the swirling, storm-touched Orb floating in the Capitol’s shattered rotunda.He waited. The response time would indicate her level of interest.It took eleven seconds.Incoming Message: Cecelia Wu “Do not engage. I repeat: Do not engage. The Sovereign is a localized disaster event waiting to happen. If you wake it up, you won’t just die; you’ll wipe the entire eastern se
23 - pulse of the swamp
The Luxury Yacht (B) cut through the swollen, silty waters of the Ohio River, its warp-capable engines humming at a low, sub-audible frequency designed to evade aquatic sonar.William stood on the bridge, watching the shoreline of what was once Kentucky slide past. It was no longer a state; it was a wall of impenetrable green. The Thousand Mile Barrier—the atmospheric and systemic wall that prevented high-speed aerial or warp travel—forced him to navigate the old waterways. But for a man with a B-Grade vessel and a silenced engine, the rivers were the veins of the continent, and he was the only blood cell moving freely.He was returning from the Harvest. The Million Tote (L) was heavy with the weight of the Midwest: grain silos, heirloom seed vaults, and enough agricultural machinery to jumpstart a civilization. He had secured the future. Now, he had to survive the present.William turned his attention to the holographic interface floating above the yacht’s console. Specifically, the
22 - The dissolution
The American flag flying over the Fort Hamilton command post was no longer tattered; it was gray. It hung limp in the heavy, humid air of the jungle-choked harbor, coated in a layer of fine, necrotic dust that seemed to settle over everything in the Safe Zone.Three weeks ago, this flag represented the continuity of the United States Government. Now, it represented a cage.Inside the perimeter walls, the social entropy had accelerated from decay to active decomposition. The realization that "help" wasn't coming from Washington—because Washington was likely just another jungle ruin—had shattered the fragile truce between the "Awakened" (the blue-collar workers with skills) and the "Baggage" (the skill-less elite).But the final nail in the coffin wasn't starvation. It was information.
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