2026-01-16 04:40:30The shop was a dark, hollow box, but suddenly it was full of noise.
"Left! Bring it left! Don't drop it, you idiots!"Iron Jaw was screaming. He was standing in the doorway, blocking the weak daylight, directing his men like a conductor of a very clumsy orchestra. He was vibrating with a manic energy, his bear-trap jaw clicking open and shut as he barked orders.His men were hauling crates, their movements loud and clumsy. Grunts of effort echoed off the dusty concr
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CHAPTER 106: Brawl of Chaos
The acoustic slap of the stone hitting the plastic bin was still vibrating in the fibers of the Emperor’s Weave. The echo of it had died, but the conceptual shockwave of the act had paralyzed the room.I lay flat against the bottom seam, trapped beneath the oily, crushed remains of my brethren. The heat in the pocket was a sweltering, dry oven, driven by the massive, relaxed muscle of the thigh just millimeters away. His right hand was empty now. The localized gravity of the tablet was gone. He stood perfectly still, his stance anchored by the sheer density of his bones.Outside, the silence was absolute.It was the silence of a blown fuse. Hundreds of the most ruthless minds in the Golden Zone were locked in a terminal state of cognitive failure. They had watched him pay the highest conceptual price in history for a relic that radiated celestial energy. They had listened to him decipher its code. And then they had watched him discard it into a receptacle meant for empty coffee cups a
CHAPTER 105: Silence of the Warlords
The threat of the hand was a physical weight, heavier than the suffocating air, heavier than the crushed shells of the dead pressing against my cracked spine.I waited for it. I waited for the shadow to eclipse the microscopic slivers of light at the top of the seam. I waited for the massive, calloused fingers to push past the synthetic lip of the pocket, to plunge into the dark, and to drag me up into the wet, grinding destruction of his jaw. The ambient heat radiating from the pillar of his thigh had already promised it. The faint, sharp scent of his saliva filtering through the Emperor’s Weave had confirmed it. He was hungry, and his task was over.But the hand did not come down.Instead, the kinetic architecture of his body shifted.The rigid, iron-like tension in his right thigh muscle rolled, the fibers elongating and contracting as he adjusted his center of gravity. The movement dragged the fabric of the trousers tight. I was pinned against a jagged half-shell, the friction scr
CHAPTER 104: Secret of the Onions
The noise outside the pocket was no longer just sound. It was a physical mass, a crushing atmospheric pressure built from pure, collective hysteria.I lay trapped in the lowest, darkest fold of the right seam. The Emperor’s Weave surrounding me vibrated violently, absorbing the acoustic shockwaves of the hundreds of screaming humans out there. Warlords were roaring. Tech tycoons were slamming their fists against the polished tables. The air was thick with the sharp, coppery scent of Viper’s blood and the acrid, burning ozone of his blown cranial implants. It all filtered down through the microscopic gaps in the fabric, mixing with the rancid, roasted oil of my own shattered kin.“The layers of reality!” Viper’s final, shredded scream still echoed in the cavernous space. The crowd had taken it. They had swallowed the delusion whole because the alternative—that they were fighting over a piece of actual garbage—would have broken their minds. They were practically tearing the room apart,
CHAPTER 103: Walk to the Podium
The silence that followed the final word was not empty. It was heavy, thick, and suffocating, pressing against the outside of the pocket like water against the hull of a submerged submarine.I remained wedged in the lowest corner of the front right seam, surrounded by the oily, crushed remains of the others. The heat inside the Emperor’s Weave was absolute. It baked the salt onto my skin, fusing it with the fine, dry dust of my shattered kin. The hairline fracture running down the curve of my back throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, a stark reminder of the violent kinetic force this man possessed.Just millimeters away, separated only by a synthetic lining that felt like woven steel wool, his thigh muscle was completely motionless. But it was not at rest. The latent current of the System—that raw, blue-hot physical output he had activated earlier—continued to thrum through his flesh. It felt like sleeping against the casing of an industrial generator. The microscopic vibrations tra
CHAPTER 102: Collapse of the Economy
The darkness in this trench is absolute, but it is never quiet.I am wedged deep in the bottom seam of his right pocket. The space is a suffocating, abrasive wedge of fabric. To the outside world, he wears a suit made of the Emperor’s Weave. Down here, it is an industrial prison. The synthetic fibers are woven so tightly they do not breathe, creating a stifling, humid microclimate fueled by the immense heat of his thigh just millimeters away.I am surrounded by the dead.Shattered husks. Stripped red skins. The oily, crushed remains of my kin coat the bottom of the seam. Every time he shifts his weight, we grind against one another. The friction is a dry, tearing agony. The roasted salt that coats my shell bites into the hairline fracture running down my back. I got that fracture earlier, when his hand first plunged into this dark pit.I can still feel the vibrations of that massacre. The massive, calloused fingers blindly tearing through us. The sudden, violent upward acceleration. A
CHAPTER 101: Weight of Paper Currency
"Do we have a deal?" I asked again.My voice was quiet, but it rolled across the obsidian floor, scraping against the fractured tables and the groaning Warlords.The Auctioneer didn't answer right away. He was paralyzed. He stood behind his ruined podium, clutching his black bone gavel with both hands like a lifeline. He looked at the crumpled, glowing green paper resting under my palm on the broken brass armrest. He looked at the digital readout above his head, which was still displaying the infinity symbol.He was a man who made his living by assigning value to the priceless. He was looking at something that broke his scale.Next to me, Anya was taking slow, shallow breaths. She kept her hands pressed flat against her thighs, staring straight ahead. She was terrified to move, terrified that any sudden motion would trigger the crushing gravity again. The air in the room still felt thick, like breathing underwater, smelling sharply of ozone and copper.Down in the aisle, Viper dragged
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