The boy stood tall at the edge of the floating pirate ship, golden letters spelling KING hovering above his head like a crown. He spread his arms wide and yelled:
"You know the rules! Form your groups!"
His voice echoed across New York City like thunder, carried down to every street, alley, and rooftop. Below, people scrambled. Cars skidded. Panic ruled.
A man with messy red hair and a pistol clenched in his hand muttered, "That kid's so arrogant… I should've shot him when I had the chance." He looked at the trembling weapon. "Who am I kidding? I can't shoot a kid."
Then a younger boy in a school uniform pushed up his glasses with a sharp sneer. "Great job. Now he's going to kill us all," he said dryly.
Up above, the King rolled his eyes. "You're taking too long."
He pointed casually at a cluster below—Jack, Rose, Eve, the redhead, the kid with glasses, and one more bystander—and said, "You six, you're a group."
Instantly, silver diamonds appeared above their heads. Then he grinned wider.
"Wait… Six?" Jack muttered, confused. "That's all of us?"
The King rubbed his chin in mock thought. "Let's make this interesting."
SNAP!
More icons—blue, green, purple—started appearing above people all across the city. Dozens, hundreds, even thousands of groups were being formed. No one had a gold icon, though. That belonged to him—and him alone.
Then the King's gaze turned to a golden pop-up hovering beside him. It displayed pictures of every registered resident in New York State.
"No one can hear me from up here," he whispered to the interface, tapping through files.
Suddenly, he smiled. "So I can add animals as residents too?"
He snapped again.
Down below, Jack cradled Coco tightly—only for a red diamond to shimmer into existence above the puppy's head.
Jack looked up, pure disbelief and disgust in his eyes. "He's the chest?!"
"You're sick!" he yelled toward the floating ship.
The King chuckled as he began scrolling, clicking through names and photos, assigning a chest to every group in the entire state. The task was tedious—even for him. His fingers grew tired. "Ugh… finally done," he said with a satisfied sigh.
Then, casually waving his hand like a bored teacher dismissing class, he said:
"Well, what are you waiting for? Run."
A new pop-up appeared before every player:
You have 10:00 to find shelter and prepare.
Brace for war.
"Go!" Jack shouted, scooping up Coco and bolting down the cracked street.
The King watched, amused. "That one gets it."
Everyone else followed—some in packs, some alone—scatterings of people sprinting in all directions beneath a sky crowded with floating ships.
The timer ticked down.
9:59… 9:58…
And the Battle of New York had officially begun.