Morning light seeped through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, splintering into fractured beams as they cut across the suite’s polished surfaces. The golden hues clashed against the cold sterility of the room which had marble floors, sleek black furnishings, and glass walls overlooking a city that never truly slept.
Beyond the glass, the tropolis stirred.
Holographic billboards flared to life, their neon projections casting shifting hues over the towering structures. Advertisents flickered between the faces of corporate elites, military recruitnt posters, and products promising a better life. Below, the streets pulsed with early movent—workers rushing to jobs, rchants setting up shop, and drones weaving through the air delivering goods and information alike.
Yet, within these walls, there was only silence.
Alex opened his eyes.
He lay motionless, staring at the ceiling, his mind caught in the delicate void between waking and consciousness. No dreams. No nightmares. Just the weight of existence pressing against him.
Then, like a blade slicing through mist, clarity settled in.
The vacation was over.
With a asured exhale, he pushed himself upright, the silk sheets slipping off his bare shoulders as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His muscles tensed slightly as he stretched, rolling his shoulders, feeling the subtle strain beneath his skin.
The suite’s automated systems responded to his movents instantly.
Lights brightened.
The room temperature was adjusted.
A faint scent of morning dew filtered through the air vents—an artificial touch to simulate sothing real.
How many tis had he woken up to such comforts?
Crossing the room, he entered the bathroom, the polished marble cool beneath his bare feet. The mirrored walls reflected his form—a man unchanged, yet irrevocably different.
The automated shower detected his presence. Water surged to life, cascading in controlled streams, and the temperature was already near scalding.
Steam curled around him.
The heat seeped into his skin, but it did nothing.
A month spent in a world that was never his.
A fleeting illusion of normalcy. A fabricated lie he had allowed himself to experience—if only to remind himself of what could never be.
But now, reality called.
The Earth Clan had been given ti to lick their wounds, rebuild their defenses, and convince themselves that they had survived.
It was ti to remind them.
That karma is real.
Stepping out of the shower, Alex grabbed a towel and dried himself off slowly and deliberately. The mirror t his gaze once more.
Golden eyes—sharp, unwavering, empty of doubt.
No hesitation.
No regret.
Only purpose.
....
Back in the suite, the silence pressed down again, heavy and expectant. He glanced at the extravagance one last ti—the untouched bottles of aged liquor, the luxury anities he had never bothered with, the opulence that ant nothing.
He wouldn’t be coming back.
"Nova."
A soft chi resonated within his mind, followed by NOVA’s smooth, and synthetic voice.
["Yes, Alex?"]
"Give everything you’ve gathered from the Earth Clan."
There was a brief pause—then, a surge of data.
His vision flickered. Charts. Reports. Surveillance logs.
His left eye pulsed with digital overlays, his neural interface processing a month’s worth of intelligence in seconds: every intercepted transmission, every movent within the Earth Clan’s territory, every whisper of unrest.
Nova’s voice remained calm and efficient.
["Processing. Uploading all critical intel."]
As the last sequence loaded, Alex’s expression hardened.
The ti for rest was over.
Now, it was ti for retribution.
Fastening his dark hoodie, he adjusted the fabric, his golden eyes gleaming against the dim lighting as more data stread into his mind.
The numbers ca first.
Millions dead.
Entire districts were erased. Once-thriving cities were reduced to nothing but smoldering ruins.
The Clans had spent the past month doing nothing but burying their dead, rebuilding their walls, and staving off the inevitable questions.
But what truly caught his attention was not the Earth Domain suffering.
It was the reaction of the other Higher Clans.
They had watched. Silently.
None had intervened.
The Fire Clan. The Water Clan. The Wind.
They had all stood still while the Earth Clan bled.
Not out of fear.
But calculation.
Nova’s voice cut in, smooth as ever.
["None of the Higher Clans offered aid. However, they are all conducting investigations. Each is trying to understand what triggered the beast tide. But..."]
A new screen appeared.
Alex’s eyes narrowed.
A private transmission.
Intercepted.
Between Liè Yàn, the Fire Patrician, and Khepri Geb, the Earth Patrician.
A slow smirk curled at the corner of Alex’s lips.
Fools.
They thought they were the only ones watching.
They thought their call was safe.
Nova’s voice humd in his mind.
["Their arrogance makes them easy to infiltrate."]
Alex exhaled, crossing his arms.
The world had begun recovering just enough to start asking questions.
And soon—
He would give them their answers.
It was ti to destroy the Earth Clan for good.
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