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
