Chapter 96 Ninety six
The Prime Forge didn't die quietly.
Even with its lower half completely sheared off by the Red-Queen’s Phase-Blade, the severed upper chassis groaned and popped as the internal cooling systems violently depressurized. Thick, acrid black smoke poured from the ruined exhaust vents, blotting out the setting sun and casting long, skeletal shadows across the asphalt of Coldwater’s outer district.
Dax stood at the edge of the wreckage, his SMG resting casually on his shoulder. He watched the last of the retreating Paladins disappear into the glowing blue treeline of the mutated jungle. They were running back to Neo-Angeles with a message that would shake the Founders to their cryo-frozen cores.
"Let them run," Dax murmured, his amber eyes tracking their flight. "They need to tell the old men what happens when you cross the border."
"Prez!" Tank’s voice boomed from the smoking ruins of the Forge’s main command deck.
The massive enforcer was standing at the edge of the sheared metal, his heavy EMP shotgun leveled downward. Beside him, Sienna had her phase-knives drawn, the blades humming with lethal intent.
"Looks like they left a parting gift," Tank called out, gesturing with the barrel of his gun. "We got a straggler pinned under the navigation console. He’s alive, but he ain’t going anywhere."
Dax looked at me, giving a sharp nod.
I left Leo and the other exhausted Code-Born kids sitting behind the concrete barricade, guarded by a very protective Captain Reyes. I followed Dax as he vaulted up the jagged, smoking debris, our boots crunching on shattered smart-glass and twisted iron.
Inside the command deck, the emergency red lighting flickered sporadically. Pinned beneath a massive durasteel support beam was a Paladin. His pristine white and gold armor was scorched black, the golden sunburst insignia on his chest plate cracked right down the middle. His helmet had been knocked off in the crash, revealing a young man with a shaved head and a bleeding gash above his eye.
He was terrified, but he tried to mask it with a sneer as Dax stepped into his field of vision.
"You're dead, Steele," the Paladin spat, coughing up a fine mist of blood and ash. "You think destroying one Forge changes anything? The Founders are awake. Neo-Angeles is mobilizing the entire Sunburst Vanguard."
Dax didn't yell. He didn't threaten. He just crouched down next to the pinned soldier, resting his forearms on his knees.
"I've killed a lot of men who told me I was dead," Dax said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that carried more menace than a shouted threat. "What's your name, soldier?"
"Lieutenant Kael," the man gritted out, straining against the heavy beam crushing his legs. "And I'm not telling you anything else."
"You don't have to," Captain Reyes’s voice echoed through the ruined command deck.
She climbed up the debris, her plasma rifle lowered but her dark eyes completely devoid of sympathy. Kael’s eyes widened as he recognized her.
"Captain Reyes," Kael breathed, a mix of relief and betrayal crossing his face. "You... you defected to these scavengers. You stole the Founder's property!"
"They aren't property, Kael," Reyes said coldly, stepping up beside Dax. "They're children. And the Founders were going to drain them dry."
"They are batteries!" Kael shouted, his fanaticism overriding his pain. "The Origin-Code is the only thing that can stabilize the neural-sync! If the Founders don't get the Code-Born, the cryo-degradation will kill them! We are trying to save the architects of humanity!"
I froze, the pieces clicking together in my hacker's brain.
I looked at Dax, then back at Kael. "The Founders aren't just waking up their war machines. They're dying. The Origin-Code terraforming pulse fried their cryo-pods, and now their biological bodies are rapidly degrading because they aren't synced properly with their AI networks."
Kael clamped his mouth shut, realizing he had said too much, but the terror in his eyes confirmed it.
"That's why they're so desperate," Reyes realized, her face paling. "They aren't expanding their empire out of ambition. They're expanding out of sheer survival. If they don't capture the Code-Born to filter the raw Origin-Code, their brains will literally melt."
"A ticking clock," Dax mused, standing up slowly. A dark, dangerous smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Desperate men make mistakes. Desperate gods make even bigger ones."
"You can't fight them," Kael wheezed, his bravado finally cracking. "When the Prime Forges don't return, they won't send machines. They'll send the Solaris-Class drop-ships. They'll burn Coldwater to the bedrock."
"Let them try," Dax said.
He looked at Tank. "Get the beam off him. Strip him of his armor, his comms, and his weapons. Bind his wounds, then throw him in the holding cells on Level 4 of the Citadel. I want him alive to watch us win."
Tank grinned, holstering his shotgun and cracking his massive knuckles. "My pleasure, Prez."
Dax turned and walked back out onto the sheared edge of the Forge, looking down at the city. The sun had finally set, and the emergency lights of Coldwater were fighting against the encroaching, bioluminescent glow of the terraformed jungle just beyond the gates.
I walked up beside him, the Origin-Code in my veins settling down to a dull, exhausted ache.
"We have a problem, Pres," I said quietly, leaning against a twisted piece of armor plating. "The Red-Queen’s Phase-Guillotine trick was a one-off. It took the combined bio-electrical energy of all six Code-Born kids just to sever this one machine. If Neo-Angeles sends a fleet, we don't have the juice to cut the sky again."
"I know," Dax said, rubbing the scar on his jaw. "The kids are too raw. They have the power, but they don't have the architecture to channel it efficiently. They're like a V8 engine bolted to a bicycle frame."
"I can train them," I said, looking down at Leo, who was currently helping the youngest girl drink from a scavenged canteen. "I can teach them how to interface with the Red-Queen directly. How to build their own Origin-Code shells. But it will take time."
"Time is the one thing we don't have," Reyes said, joining us at the edge. "If Kael is right, the Founders' biological clocks are running out. They will launch a full-scale assault within the week."
Dax looked out at the dark, sprawling ruins of Coldwater. We had chased out the Board, but the city was largely empty, filled with scavengers, refugees, and the ghosts of the old timeline.
"Twelve bikers and six kids can't hold a city," Dax stated, stating the tactical reality without a trace of fear. "If we're going to war against an empire, we need an army."
"Where are we going to find an army in the wasteland?" Reyes asked skeptically. "The outer settlements were wiped out by the Origin-Beasts."
"Not all of them," Dax said. He turned to look at Reaper, who had just finished securing the perimeter. "Reaper. The comms array on the top of the Citadel. Is it still functional after the Void-Drive launch?"
"The physical dish is slag," Reaper replied, "but Mia's hardline to the Red-Queen is intact. We can broadcast a sub-ether frequency."
"Good," Dax nodded. "Mia, I need you to boost the signal. We aren't hiding behind a shield anymore. I want you to broadcast an open channel across the entire hemisphere."
I looked at him, my heart skipping a beat. "You want to announce our location to the entire world? Neo-Angeles will pinpoint us in seconds."
"They already know where we are," Dax grinned, a feral, magnetic expression that made it impossible not to follow him into the fire. "But so does everyone else. Every scavenger, every outlaw, every broken soul who survived the Board and the Nullity. I want them to know that Coldwater is open. No corporate overlords. No Founders. Just the pack."
He looked back out at the glowing jungle.
"Tell the wasteland that the Iron Wolves are recruiting. And anyone who wants to fight for a free world has a home in our city."