Victoria and John stirred from a heavy, exhausted sleep in the flickering shadows of their room. They woke in unison, the silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of their breathing. Suddenly, Victoria lunged forward, pulling John into a desperate, crushing embrace, as if to anchor him to the world. John leaned his head against hers, his voice raspy. "My adrenaline pushed itself to the limit... that's why I was able to lift that Eradicator Mark 2." Victoria didn't pull away; she gripped him tighter, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "I don't care... at least you are safe."
The industrial skyline of Forge Industries loomed like a jagged crown of steel and steam. Inside the Grand Meeting Room, the atmosphere was thick with tension and the smell of expensive tobacco. The government leaders—Mr. Viktor, Mr. Azazel, Mrs. Mila, and Mr. Haumet—sat around a monolithic obsidian table. Mr. Viktor exhaled a cloud of grey smoke, staring at the ceiling. "So I heard that the Relic faction was destroyed eons ago in their timeline, but on Earth, it's only been a day. I don't think we should intervene."
Mr. Azazel was restless, his thumb flicking the wheel of a silver lighter—click-flame, click-extinguish. "Well, we have a lot of casualties in our factory and the forge cities. We need to prepare for the worst." Beside him, Mrs. Mila was poised and indifferent, applying a layer of deep crimson lipstick in a hand-mirror. "Is that what you said then? We're not joining the fight. We will continue to be neutral."
Mr. Haumet leaned forward, his shadow stretching long across the table. His voice was a low vibration that rattled the glassware. "Even though we continue being a neutral faction, we lost too many during the first reign. The Catastrophic... we've been studying the Calamity behavior, and now we've done it. The idiotic Relics think we can't calm its behavior because we're mortals? No. Humanity are mortals." His eyes were cold and sharp. "If Relics fell, the universe would collapse. But we believe the Plague Doctor is still alive. Tenebris Marcam is holding the chain of the Relic World. We are done being the mice in the world. Now we're the cats."
Slowly, Mr. Azazel raised his hand. Mrs. Mila snapped her compact shut and raised hers as well. Finally, Mr. Haumet's hand joined them. Over a cold, sterile hallway in the GDA, a high-ranking Advisor stared at a piece of paper, his hands trembling with rage. "You can't make another machine anymore without the government's consent, sorry and bye. If you want to make another machine, you need to pay actual money now. - by Mr. Haumet." The Advisor snarls, crumpling the paper into a ball and hurling it into a trashcan. He violently kicked the wall, the metal echoing down the hall. "Fucking government!?"
Dr. Xenon was calm. She smirks as she glanced at her own copy of the notice. She sighed, the sound of tearing paper filling the room as she ripped it to shreds. "Stupid old hags thinking I can't make my own... I just used you so I could prepare my expenses." She let out a sharp scoff that turned into a dark laugh, glancing at a small cleaner robot near her boots. "Clean this mess." She walked away with a predatory grin.
In the wasteland of shattered reality, Overseer Prime sliced through a wave of wretched, but the world slowed as a nightmare emerged: The Vile Wretched. He was a towering mass of dark brown, draped in a torn, beaked hood with the glowing Calamity symbol. His face was a void with four piercing purple eye lights. Orange wires pulsed like veins from his torso to a glowing purple core. His pelvis was a massive, four-legged insectoid frame fitted with spikes.
He seized the Overseer, his touch spreading a dark, oily corruption. "Nice toy, for someone small!?" The Vile Wretched's eyes widened as Tenebris Marcam appeared, unleashing a devastating relic beam that sent the beast hurtling backward. Tenebris recovered, shouting to his retreating forces: "My people, leave!?" He used his power to force the survivors away, but the distraction was fatal. The Vile Wretched lunged through the smoke, clawed fingers clamping around Tenebris Marcam's neck.
"So vulnerable... for someone so weak!?" He slammed Tenebris to the ground with bone-shattering force. "Any last word, Vincent?" Tenebris Marcam snarled, "GO TO HELL!" In a flash of light, Tenebris was teleported away. The Vile Wretched squinted in fury, standing slowly as he approached the injured Plague Doctor nearby. Before the Doctor could react, his body was violently split in half. The Vile Wretched stood over the remains, a silent, looming shadow.
TO BE CONTINUED
Over a black screen, Dr. Xenon's voice cut through the dark with terrifying glee. "Are you three ready?" A cold, synthesized voice responded: "Ready Dr. Xenon." "Lovely, Eradicator Mark 4..." She turned to the deeper shadows. "Are you ready as well?" A second, deeper, mechanical voice boomed: "Yes, I'm ready." The camera pans to the center of the dark hangar as a voice shakes the foundations of the building: "APEX PREDATOR!"