Chapter 56: The Canvas of Spite
Rowan Mercer did not rush. He set his porcelain cup onto the silicone mat beside his keyboard, watching the dark liquid settle into stillness under the steady amber glow of the console screens. Across the three primary monitors, the digital feeds from his aerial platforms held their positions over the eastern lane, recording the ragged survivors as they pushed through the frozen mud and ice outside the ruined Sterling estate. The people on the screen were still fighting over scrap metal, broken wood, and scraps of food, their movements slow and jerky like dying insects caught in winter grease.
He reached toward the secondary rack beneath the main desk, where four heavy industrial toggle switches sat behind spring loaded acrylic safety covers.
These switch
