"I built the cage you live in. Now I'm going to show you how to break the lock."
The words hung in the toxic, smog-choked air of Sector 4, echoing against the crumbling concrete walls of the ruined intersection. High above them, the apocalyptic wail of the air-raid sirens masked the terrifying, synchronized hum of fifty thousand pacification drones blotting out the bleeding red sky.
The patrol leader, a grizzled, heavily scarred resistance fighter named Silas, kept his rusted pre-Fall rifle aimed directly between Nikki's eyes. His hands were shaking, not from cowardice, but from the sheer, overwhelming proximity to the God of War towering just a half-step behind her.
