DATE: 03/16/503 PC

  LOCATION: Bastion Omega – Grand Council Hall

  The Beta Leader was a civilian administrator. He possessed no mana core, no battle-suit, and no combat training. By all laws of nature, Zel’s Compressed Lava Axe should have turned his upper body into ash.

  Instead, he held the molten projectile as if it were a child’s toy.

  "The Beta has fallen," Maverick breathed, his golden radiance expanding as he stepped in front of the Zeta delegates. "How long? How long has your Bastion been a tomb, creature?"

  The man who was once the Leader of Beta didn't answer with words. His body began to distend. The skin turned a bruised, bioluminescent blue, tearing apart like wet paper to reveal the monstrosity beneath. The Sovereign wasn't just possessing him; it had been wearing him.

  The humanoid shape shifted into a nightmare of the deep. A blue-skinned giant emerged, its face obscured by a writhing beard of tentacles, its arms corded with muscle that ended in obsidian-hard pincers. From its spine, a segmented scorpion-like tail tipped with a violet stinger lashed out, shattering the heavy stone council table.

  The mana flare was suffocating. It wasn't the searing heat of the Medusa; it was the crushing, cold pressure of the deep ocean.

  "Selris! Now!" Zel roared.

  Selris II didn't hesitate. As a High-General, he understood the priority. He didn't engage the beast; instead, he flared his own core, creating a kinetic wall of air that swept CEO Harthaven and the other Gamma non-combatants toward the reinforced blast doors. "Move! To the bunkers!"

  In the center of the hall, the most powerful humans on the planet stood their ground.

  Ariel Bellefrost, the Monarch of Alpha, shredded her silk gown in one fluid motion. Beneath the fabric was a pristine White MBS that hugged her frame, its mana veins glowing with a crystalline light. She drew a heavy broadsword and a kite shield that hummed with kinetic-nullification energy.

  "Wrong move, Sovereign!" Bo Duke bellowed. The Omega Monarch was already in full Berserker-shift, his Green mana turning his skin into a dark, leathery armor. He swung a massive, jagged axe that looked like it had been carved from a dragon's jaw. "You came to the Butcher’s house to die!"

  Bo launched himself forward, a green meteor of pure rage.

  Zel stayed back for a fraction of a second, his eyes scanning the Sovereign’s movements. "Ash, provide support and suppression," he whispered, his Red core vibrating. "Watch the tail. This thing didn't show up here just to die. It’s a Sovereign—it wouldn't walk into a room with four Monarchs without an ace in its hand."

  "I see the veins," Ashley replied, her Blue mana pooling at her feet like an incoming tide. "It’s drawing mana from the city’s own pipes. It’s using Omega’s core against us!"

  The Sovereign let out a layered, bubbling roar. As Bo Duke’s axe descended, the creature caught the blade with a single pincer. The shockwave shattered every window in the hall, the vacuum of the high-altitude tower sucking the curtains and papers out into the Omega night.

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  Maverick and Miraflor moved in tandem, two streaks of gold light. Maverick’s palms erupted with sun-bright beams of concentrated Zeta magic, while Miraflor wove a web of binding light around the creature's tentacles.

  "Ariel! Flank it!" Maverick commanded.

  The Alpha Monarch moved with the grace of a blizzard. Her shield caught the Sovereign’s lashing tail, the impact throwing her back ten meters, but she didn't break. She planted her feet and sent a wave of frost toward the creature's legs.

  Zel saw his opening. He didn't use a Lava Axe this time. He drew his physical blade and coated it in a layer of High-Compression Red mana so thin it was invisible.

  "Let's see if you're as hollow as the last one!" Zel hissed, vanishing into a blur of speed.

  The battle for the East had begun, not on a battlefield, but in the very heart of human power. Four Monarchs and two Generals against the Leviathan of the West.

  DATE: 03/16/503 PC LOCATION: Bastion Omega – Grand Council Hall

  "Zel, stay on defensive and support us!" Miraflor’s telepathic voice rang in Zel’s mind, sharp and commanding. "You are the only Red Core here with the speed to intercept. Protect the melee line!"

  Zel responded with a crisp nod. He slid into a low stance between Bo Duke and Ariel Bellefrost. His hands were blurs of motion as needle-thin Compressed Lava Axes manifested, ready to swat away any projectile the creature unleashed.

  Ashley stood several paces back, her brow drenched in sweat. She was fighting a war of attrition. The Sovereign was a Blue-Core entity—his mastery over fluid mana was the primordial version of her own. Every time she tried to freeze his movements, he surged with a counter-current that nearly shattered her focus. She could only manage to cancel his minor spells, keeping the "splash damage" away from Zel and the frontline.

  The battle dragged into its second hour. Despite the combined might of four Monarchs, the Sovereign—now identified by his own bubbling laughter as Rouge Diablo—had barely moved from his starting position. He took direct hits from Bo’s axe and Maverick’s light beams, his blue chitinous armor cracking and weeping violet ichor, yet he didn't flinch.

  Maverick’s eyes narrowed. As a veteran of centuries, he noticed the discrepancy. "His output... it’s decreasing. He’s siphoning the city’s heart, yet his spells are getting weaker."

  Then, Maverick felt it through the soles of his boots. The floor was hot. Not from the friction of battle, but from the conduits beneath the obsidian.

  "He isn't siphoning the mana to fight us!" Maverick’s voice cracked with a rare note of terror. "He’s overloading the generator! He’s turning the entire Bastion into a Void-Class bomb!"

  The realization hit like a physical blow. Rouge Diablo wasn't a warrior; he was a detonator. The heat rising through the floor was the sound of millions of lives being prepared for incineration. The Triple-Red surge, the summit, the puppet leader—it was all a lure to keep the world's greatest defenders in the center of the blast.

  Rouge Diablo let out a distorted, manic laugh. "I thought you would be smarter... but I guess I was wrong. You were so busy fighting the monster in front of you that you forgot the one beneath your feet."

  "Ashley! Leave! NOW!" Zel roared, his voice breaking the discipline of the unit. "That’s a direct order! Get to the transports!"

  Zel didn't wait for her reply. He ignored the Monarchs and launched himself at the Sovereign with 100% of his High-General output. His Red core flared so brightly it blinded the room. He was a streak of crimson fire, intending to sever the Sovereign’s connection to the floor.

  But Rouge Diablo was ready. With a flick of a pincer, a sphere of high-pressure violet water encased Zel. It wasn't meant to kill him—it was a kinetic slingshot. Before Zel could burst the bubble, it expanded and detonated, throwing him through three layers of reinforced obsidian walls, ejecting him from the Grand Hall into the winding corridors of the Inner Core.

  Zel hit the ground a hundred meters away, rolling and instantly springing to his feet. His ears were ringing, and the heat in the air was now unbearable. He began to sprint back toward the hall, his boots melting against the floor.

  Inside the ruins of the council chamber, Rouge Diablo’s blue skin began to turn a terrifying, incandescent Red. He wasn't just overloading the generator anymore; he was becoming the conduit for the explosion itself.

  He looked at the four Monarchs, his tentacled face twisting into a grin of pure malice.

  "The age of Bastions... ends today."