The acrid, suffocating smoke of the thermite blast hung heavily in the subterranean cavern, choking the flickering emergency lights.
In the center of the shattered hall, General V-05 lay completely motionless. His massive, synthetic hands had been entirely vaporized by the contained explosion. His bare chest was a horrifying, melted crater of twisted titanium and scorched wire. But deep within the ruined cavity of his sternum, beneath the charred synthetic tissue, the faint, erratic blue pulse of his primary plasma core continued to beat.
The Eastern Warlord had absorbed a localized apocalypse, and his Class-5 architecture had refused to let him die.
Nikki fell to her knees beside the smoking ruin of the machine that had once hunted her. She didn't see the tyrant of Sector 5. She saw a newly born soul, crushed by the weight of its own atonement.
V-05's optical sensors flickered weakly, the dim crimson light bleeding into a faint, exhausted blue.
