The guards shifted, trying to look confident enough to match Director rcer’s tone.
Their boots squeaked on the clean floor. The movent looked rehearsed and too slow. Their confidence was a costu that didn’t fit after what they’d just seen outside.
Sera felt her creature stir, pleased and cold. He still thinks numbers are teeth. Let him find out what real teeth can do.
rcer tried again. "Look. I’m offering you a deal. Your blood saves this region. We stabilize the antigen. We bring civilization back. You walk out of here with everything you want."
Sera turned her head toward him, finally. Her eyes were calm, intent, predatory in the simple way water was predatory. "You already took what you wanted," she replied. "Now you’re talking because you don’t know what else to do."
rcer opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn’t like being understood by sothing he considered property.
He lifted his chin. "Then you leave no choice."
He nodded once to the guards.
The rifles clicked in unison. Safety toggles. Chambers racked. The sound was clean. It would have been impressive if she hadn’t watched those rifles fail against things far smaller than Aerenyx.
The first guard fired.
The shot never reached Sera.
The bullet hit the floor halfway between them and crumpled into a soft gray lump, as if the tal itself had forgotten what a bullet was supposed to be. The guard stared at the deford slug in confusion.
Aerenyx hadn’t moved.
The guns began to fail in the guards’ hands. The barrels pitted and rusted like ti had been poured over them. Plastics turned brittle and flaked away in curling pieces. Springs inside the chanisms stuttered and died. The rifles fell apart in seconds, leaving the n holding useless skeletons that crumbled into dust.
The guards took one breath together.
That breath ended them.
Boils erupted under their collars and across their jaws. Their eyes went glassy and then sagged in their sockets. Two collapsed straight down. One stumbled forward, tried to scream, and dissolved before the sound could form. The others fell in staggered heaps, their armor clanging empty as tissue lted out from inside it.
rcer froze.
His hand stayed in the air like he couldn’t believe the order had failed.
He stared at his dead line of protection, then at Aerenyx as if waiting for a second layer of reality to correct what he’d seen.
Aerenyx looked back at him with faint curiosity. "You shouldn’t be surprised," he said.
rcer took a step backward on instinct. His heel bumped the console rail. "What did you do?"
Aerenyx didn’t answer directly. He turned his head toward the server towers again, like rcer had asked about weather instead of death.
He reached out.
His palm settled on the nearest housing.
The tower didn’t spark. It didn’t scream. It simply began to age in fast motion. The plastic casing stiffened and turned chalky, then cracked in spiderweb lines that raced outward.
The tal skeleton beneath blood with rust, crawling in red-brown flakes that lifted and fell away, leaving holes where structure had been.
Wiring inside the open seams went dull, hardened, and snapped, falling in dry curls to the floor.
The hum of power dropped in pitch.
Screens around the room flickered. Graphs went jagged. Data feeds stuttered. The main map of Region T shrank into static.
Aerenyx moved to the next tower without hurry and laid his hand on it too.
It followed the first into rot. The fan systems ground to a halt, flinging brittle blades against housings that were already collapsing. Circuit boards warped and sunk into themselves like wet cardboard.
The sll was sharp and dry now, like ancient books turned to ash.
rcer made a broken sound in his throat. "Stop."
But Aerenyx kept going.
Each tower he touched died in the sa way, and the death rippled outward. Consoles cracked. Keyboards stiffened and snapped under their own weight.
The central mainfra screen went black, then returned for half a second with a cascade of error codes before collapsing into permanent darkness.
It wasn’t a power failure.
It was death.
Sera watched the process with quiet interest, because Aerenyx wasn’t just killing the system to win. He was doing it because it was his nature. He didn’t need to prove dominance. He needed to exist forward.
rcer stumbled toward him, then stopped short at the edge of the rot line. He could see the air itself changing, like a boundary between where ti still pretended to move normally and where ti had been turned into a weapon.
"You don’t understand," rcer said, voice rising. "Without that system, the border wall fails. The generators fail. The entire region becos open to breach."
Aerenyx finally looked at him again. "You an," he said softly, "the cage you built for millions becos useless."
"Yes," rcer snapped. "Yes. Because you’re acting like an animal."
Aerenyx smiled, and the smile was small but precise. "And you’re acting like a man who forgot what animals do to cages."
rcer stared at him like he was seeing a language he didn’t speak.
He turned to Sera next, desperate enough to try again. "Look, Sera. This is not what you want. You need Region T functional to cross it. You need the roads. The checkpoints. The dical stores. If you let him destroy this, you lose access."
Sera’s gaze moved over the dead guards, the dying screens, the steady rot line creeping through the command core. She thought about the road she intended to take, about Region L beyond this territory, about Adam sowhere ahead and her n still locked away.
Sera felt no panic at the thought of the system collapsing.
"Then I’ll walk over the ruins," she replied with a shrug.
rcer’s face tightened with rage, not at her cruelty, but at her refusal to be practical in the way he demanded. "Then you will doom millions. Are you really willing to watch humanity fall simply because you are not willing to sacrifice what must be done for the sake of your own interests?"
"That’s funny," smiled Sera slightly. "Because I don’t see you offering to make that sacrifice yourself."
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