The cold wind howled atop the rooftop, brushing against the cloaks and jackets of the seven figures standing like silent shadows against the moonlit skyline. Cipher stood at the front, black coat billowing. Beside him were six rogue Executioners, each masked, each armed with the chilling power of the Execution Code. Below them, Death Protocol's headquarters buzzed silently—its gleaming tower unknowingly moments away from becoming a battlefield.
Cipher narrowed his eyes. "It's time."
Inside the building, Riven sat calmly across from Cigar in his lavish office, the hum of distant machinery vibrating underfoot. The cigar smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling, and Cigar's one-eyed gaze was fixed on Riven like a hawk watching prey.
"You didn't come here for small talk," Cigar muttered. "What do you want, Kane?"
"I want the truth," Riven said without flinching. "About my ability to level up. About the system. You know more than you're letting on."
Cigar leaned back, his lips twitching into a faint scowl. "Is that how you speak to your superior?"
Riven's eyes sharpened. "I'm not here for rank. I'm here for answers."
Unbeknownst to Cigar, the Riven before him was a clone—formed from binary code and sent as a decoy. The real Riven was several floors below, crouched beside the power core. His fingers danced across digital panels, preparing to cut power to Death Protocol's secret underground network.
Meanwhile, Lucy was placing explosives on support beams near the top block, her system glowing faintly around her fingers. Each charge was precise, each one marking the beginning of war.
Jason—silent as smoke—descended unseen into the restricted sectors. His camouflage made him a ghost, slipping past guards, bypassing sensors, until he reached the hidden elevator and primed it for Cipher's team.
Back on the rooftop, Cipher gave the signal.
One of his men created a compact missile launcher from his execution code and locked onto Cigar's office window.
FWOOOSH!
The missile screamed through the air, slamming into the office in a fiery explosion that shattered glass and sent debris raining down. But even as it hit, Cigar didn't flinch. The clone disintegrated in the blast.
In the chaos, Riven cut the building's power.
Death Protocol's lower systems flickered. Emergency protocols kicked in, but it was too late.
Lucy stood before the elevator as the red light above it blinked. She was waiting for Cipher and the real Riven to arrive—but two shadows stepped out instead.
"Klaus. Rita." Her voice was low, almost disappointed. "You don't have to do this. You've seen the truth. You don't have to be their tools."
Klaus activated his Execution Code, digital tendrils forming into a jagged, dark halberd. "We're not tools."
Rita's eyes gleamed, her system activating into a radiant whip of binary light. "We're believers."
Lucy's face darkened. " New abilities? ."
Rita smiled.
The battle erupted.
Rita lunged, her whip slicing through the air like lightning. Lucy dodged, barely, the heat searing past her cheek. Klaus followed, swinging his halberd in an arc meant to split her in two. Lucy parried with her blue digital blade, sparks exploding with every clash.
Every movement was deadly. Klaus drove his weapon forward, aiming for Lucy's heart—but she twisted mid-air, rebounding off the elevator wall and slashing toward his shoulder. Blood sprayed, but Klaus didn't stop. He roared, pushing through pain, his halberd spinning like a cyclone.
Rita shouted, "KLAUS—DOWN!"
Lucy planted her foot, slid across the marble floor, and raised her blade just in time as Rita's whip coiled around her sword, yanking it back. Lucy let go—and punched Rita across the face with a glowing fist, digital flames bursting from her knuckles.
Foot steps approaching.
Cipher, Riven, and six of Cipher's men stormed in.
Cipher saw the chaos and gave a quick nod to two of his Executioners. "Handle them."
The two masked Executioners leapt into action, getting ready for the fight of their lives.
Lucy turned to Cipher. "Let's move!"
They rushed into the elevator. Cipher opened a hidden panel inside and pressed a glowing red button. The lift vibrated, then descended deeper than any floor listed on the building's records—deeper than most knew even existed.
As they descended, the air grew colder. The walls turned from smooth steel to reinforced obsidian black, humming with energy. Riven clenched his fists.
"What if we're too late?" he asked.
"We're not," Cipher answered. "We can't be."
The elevator stopped.
The doors slid open.
What greeted them was not a hidden lab or a dark hallway—it was a warfront.
Cigar stood at the center of a massive underground command chamber, dressed in black, with his Execution Code activated and glowing violently around his body. Behind him were twenty-five elite Executioners, eyes gleaming, systems humming with deadly intent.
"So," Cigar said calmly, "the rats finally crawled into the lion's den."
Cipher stepped out first, removing his mask. "Looks more like the lion's den just got surrounded by wolves."
Riven, Lucy, and the other four formed formation.
Cigar raised a hand. "Kill them all."
The battle began.
An Executioner lunged forward with a binary spear. One of Cipher's men intercepted, flipping midair and launching a burst of black fire straight through the attacker's chest.
Lucy's sword clashed with a woman wielding twin axes of digital light. Sparks flew as Lucy ducked, spun, and countered with a sweep that cut across her enemy's abdomen.
Riven met a monstrous Executioner—a brute twice his size—whose system manifested into armored fists that turned his blows into seismic waves. Riven dodged left, slid under, and struck upward, his blade carving across the giant's ribs.
Cipher unleashed his full power—his Execution Code turning into a storm of shuriken-shaped energy, slicing through enemies with surgical precision. He danced between blows, striking with inhuman speed.
All around them, chaos reigned. Digital constructs exploded. Flames clashed with lightning. Swords met spears. Fists met flesh.
Every step forward felt like a mile.
Every kill cost something.
But they kept pushing.
Kept fighting.
Because this was no longer just survival.
This was war.