[LOCATION: THE FORGE - MAIN TERMINAL]
[TIME: 15:00 HOURS]
The Heretic sat in the center of the room, cross-legged on the steel floor.
He looked ridiculous and terrifying.
He was wearing a prisoner's jumpsuit, but his neck was encased in the heavy, humming Void Collar. Thick black cables ran from the collar directly into the server banks of the command center.
"Connection stable," Julian announced, his fingers dancing over a holographic keyboard. "I've routed the connection through a bouncing signal: Antartica, Moscow, The Moon, and back. The Banker won't be able to trace the source."
"He won't have time to trace it," Lucas said.
Lucas stood by the monitor wall. He felt cold. The memory of killing the boy in The Pit was gone. In its place was just a grey static—a missing file in his brain. He tried to feel sad about it, but he couldn't.
"Are you hungry?" Lucas asked the monster.
The Heretic smiled, revealing his obsidian teeth.
"Starving."
"Julian," Lucas ordered. "Open the gate."
Julian flicked his wrist.
[TECHNOMANCY: UPLINK ESTABLISHED.]
[TARGET: THE SYNDICATE GLOBAL LEDGER.]
[THE DIGITAL PLANE - VISUALIZATION]
On the main screen, the data stream appeared. It wasn't code. Thanks to Julian's interface, it looked like a golden city. Massive walls of encryption protected towers of pure light—trillions of dollars flowing through the Syndicate's veins.
"That's the Golden Firewall," Elena said, pointing to the outer barrier. "Quantum-encrypted. It shifts its key every nanosecond. It would take a supercomputer ten thousand years to crack it."
"Crack?" The Heretic laughed softly. The sound vibrated through the room's speakers. "Why crack the shell when you can just drink the yolk?"
The Heretic closed his empty eyes. The black crystal in his chest flared.
On the screen, a shadow appeared over the Golden City.
It was a cloud of black smoke. Entropy.
It touched the firewall.
There was no battle. No alarms. The golden wall simply... rusted. The digital bricks turned grey and dissolved into dust.
"Encryption deleted," Julian whispered, awestruck. "He didn't solve the math. He aged the code until it decayed."
"The vault is open," Lucas said. "Eat."
The Heretic inhaled sharply.
On the screen, the black cloud descended on the city of light.
[LOCATION: THE BANKER'S PRIVATE JET - 40,000 FEET]
Dante, The Banker, sat in his leather recliner, sipping a martini. He was recovering from the Vegas raid. His probability engine was destroyed, but his money was safe. Money was the ultimate shield.
"Sir," his assistant stammered, walking out of the cockpit. She was holding a tablet. Her face was white.
"What is it?" Dante snapped. "Did the stock market dip?"
"No, sir. It's... gone."
"What's gone?"
"The liquidity. The Cayman accounts. The Swiss reserves. The crypto-wallets."
Dante grabbed the tablet.
He watched the numbers.
[ACCOUNT 8944: $4.5 BILLION] -> [$0.00]
[ACCOUNT 2210: $12 BILLION] -> [$0.00]
It wasn't a transfer. There was no destination account. The money wasn't being stolen. It was being erased.
"Stop it!" Dante screamed, his golden eyes flashing. "Isolate the servers! Cut the hard lines!"
"We can't!" the assistant cried. "The code is rotting! The backups are corrupting the moment we open them! It's like a virus!"
Dante looked out the window at the clouds. For the first time in twenty years, he felt a sensation he had forgotten.
Luck running out.
He wasn't the richest man in the world anymore. He was just a passenger on a plane he couldn't afford to fuel.
[THE FORGE]
The Heretic was shaking. The veins in his grey skin bulged, turning black as he gorged on the energy of the world's economy.
"So much..." The Heretic moaned. "The greed... it tastes like copper."
"Focus," Lucas commanded. "Don't just eat the money. Eat the debt."
Lucas tapped a command into Julian's console.
[TARGET: GLOBAL DEBT SERVER.]
[FILTER: CIVILIAN.]
"Burn it," Lucas said.
The Heretic groaned and pushed the energy.
Across the world, credit card servers crashed. Student loan databases corrupted. Mortgages vanished. In a single instant, Lucas wiped out three trillion dollars of debt held by the lower class.
"You're creating chaos," Elena said, watching the news feeds light up with panic and celebration. "The markets are collapsing. Lucas, this will cause riots."
"Good," Lucas said. "The Syndicate relies on order. On control. We just gave the world back its chaos."
Suddenly, a new signal cut through the noise.
"Lucas," Alexander Vane's voice came through the burner phone. "Stop the feed. Now."
"Why?" Lucas asked. "He's almost finished."
"Because you've made your point," Alexander said quickly. "And because The Banker is desperate. A desperate man doesn't use money. He uses his insurance policy."
"What insurance policy?"
"Look at the news feed. Channel 4."
Julian switched the main screen.
It was a live broadcast from Tokyo.
The city was in chaos. But not because of the banks.
A massive holographic projection had appeared over the Shibuya Crossing. It was The Banker's face. He looked disheveled, frantic.
"Citizens of the world!" The Banker screamed, his voice booming over the city. "The terrorist known as Lucas Thorne has attacked your stability! He thinks he is a hero!"
The Banker held up a remote control.
"But actions have consequences. If my accounts are not restored in ten minutes... I activate the Asset."
The screen shifted to a new camera feed.
It showed a massive suspension bridge. The Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco.
But something was wrong with the water beneath it.
It was bubbling. Glowing Green.
"That's not the virus," Elena said, stepping closer. "That's... chemical."
"It's Apostle Number Eight," Lucas realized. "The Alchemist."
"Correct," Alexander said over the phone. "The Banker funded the Alchemist's research. In exchange, the Alchemist planted 'Bio-Bombs' in major cities. That green sludge? It's a rapid-onset necrosis gas. If he pushes that button, San Francisco melts."
Lucas looked at The Heretic. The monster was drunk on power, swaying back and forth.
"Can you eat the signal?" Lucas asked. "Can you eat the remote detonator?"
"No," The Heretic burped, black smoke leaking from his mouth. "It's not networked. It's a radio wave. Analog. I can't reach it."
Lucas clenched his fist. The Banker had checkmated him. He couldn't burn the money if it meant killing a city.
"Julian," Lucas barked. "Trace the broadcast! Where is The Banker?"
"Triangulating..." Julian's hands flew. "He's airborne. Private jet. Over the Pacific. Heading for... wait."
Julian paused.
"He's heading here."
"Here?" Tank asked.
"He knows we're at The Forge," Lucas realized. "The Heretic's connection... the signal bounce wasn't enough. The energy spike was too big. He tracked the hunger."
[WARNING: PROXIMITY ALERT.]
[AERIAL CONTACT DETECTED. RANGE: 50 MILES.]
"He's coming to kill us," Elena said.
"No," Lucas stared at the map. "He's broke. He has no army left. He's not coming to fight."
Lucas grabbed his Shatter Pistol.
"He's coming to make a withdrawal."
Lucas looked at The Heretic.
"Tank, lock him up. Put him back in the cage. Now!"
"Why?" Tank asked, moving to grab the collar.
"Because The Banker isn't coming for me," Lucas said, his eyes narrowing. "He's coming for the only thing on Earth valuable enough to buy his empire back."
Lucas pointed at The Heretic.
"He's coming to sell the monster to the Aliens."