Jace Varn hit the rubble-strewn street hard, the escape pod's crash jolting his bones like a bad landing from a rooftop chase. Level 8 power coursed through him—HP steady at 360 despite the dents, chip mastery perk turning the System from cage to toolkit—but the sky-tower's collapse lit the night like a bonfire. Chunks of glass and steel rained down, smashing into the slums below, while New Cascadia howled in full blackout panic. No more glowing holo-ads, no drone hum—just screams, fires, and the crackle of shorted implants. The core was toast, Architects' AI heart shattered, but freedom? It tasted like ash and blood.
Lena groaned beside him, leg twisted badly from the elite's crush, shock rifle smoking in her grip. "We... we f*****g did it, Varn." Her voice cracked, pain mixing with that
