The sky above the Battle Zone cracked with energy, streaks of red and violet tearing across the clouds like open wounds. Sark drones swarmed the ridgelines, their weapons lighting up the battlefield in bursts of cold, synthetic light. Vandal war machines roared in response, metal grinding against metal as the two factions clashed in a storm of fire and fury.
But Naruto wasn't there for the war.
He was behind the wheel of the Black Maul, engine snarling, tires spitting molten dust as he tore across the battlefield-his eyes locked on the convoy of BF5 vehicles ahead.
They had the Battle Key.
And they were running.
"You call yourselves warriors?" he growled into the comms, voice crackling with static and venom. "You're not even prey. You're cowards."
He slammed the throttle. The Black Maul surged forward, the snow plow scraping sparks from the ground. The sonic reverb cannons charged with a low hum, and the branding rigs hissed as they heated up.
Ahead, Vert's voice crackled over BF5 comms.
"He's behind us again-he's not letting up!"
"We've got the Key," Stanford snapped. "Just get to the portal!"
Naruto laughed-a low, broken sound that echoed through the canyon.
"Run faster, Rhodes. I want to feel the fear when I catch you."
The portal shimmered ahead-an unstable rift pulsing with blue light. The BF5 vehicles hit it at full speed, vanishing one by one.
Naruto didn't hesitate.
He followed.
The portal spat him out into a world of concrete and steel. The Black Maul landed hard on asphalt, tires screeching as it adjusted to the sudden shift in gravity and terrain. The sky was blue. The air was clean.
He hated it.
Ahead, the BF5 vehicles were already scattering, racing toward their base.
Naruto slammed the horn.
It screamed like a dying man.
"You brought me here," he snarled. "Now you'll see what you made."
He activated the speed boost. The Black Maul lunged forward like a beast unchained, closing the gap in seconds.
"No more running."
The highways outside the BF5 base blurred beneath the tires of the Black Maul, its matte-black frame a streak of fury against the clean lines of Earth's infrastructure. The BF5 convoy tore through the city outskirts, engines screaming, tires burning rubber-but Naruto was always there.
Right behind them.
The Black Maul's sonic reverb cannons fired again-twin bursts of distorted sound that shattered windows and rattled the frames of the BF5 vehicles. But they didn't hit.
They never hit.
Naruto wasn't trying to stop them.
He was trying to scare them.
"Keep running," he growled into the wind. "I want you to feel it. Every second. Every breath."
He fired again-just wide of Agura's rear tire. Her vehicle swerved, nearly clipping a guardrail.
"He's not trying to kill us," she shouted over comms. "He's playing with us!"
"We need to lose him before we get to the base," Vert snapped. "We can't lead that thing home!"
The pursuit hadn't gone unnoticed.
Police cruisers and military transports had mobilized within minutes of the portal breach. Helicopters circled overhead. Roadblocks formed ahead.
Naruto didn't slow down.
He didn't even blink.
The first wave of police vehicles opened fire-small arms, ineffective. The second wave tried to box him in.
He activated the sonic cannons.
The blast tore through the blockade like paper. Cars flipped. Concrete shattered. The sound alone ruptured eardrums and cracked windshields. A military APC tried to intercept from the side.
Naruto veered into it at full speed.
The snow plow hit first, lifting the vehicle off the ground and sending it tumbling end over end into a gas station.
The explosion lit the sky.
"You think you can stop me?" Naruto roared. "You don't even know what I am!"
The BF5 vehicles turned off the main highway, cutting through an industrial zone. Naruto followed, relentless, the Black Maul howling behind them like a demon on wheels.
He fired again-this time close enough to scorch the paint on Stanford's rear fender.
"You feel that, Rhodes?" he shouted. "That's what fear feels like!"
Stanford didn't answer. He couldn't. His hands were locked on the wheel, knuckles white, heart pounding.
Naruto grinned.
"I'm not here to kill you. Not yet."
He leaned forward, eyes locked on the convoy ahead.
"I'm here to ruin you."
The portal tore open in the sky above Vandal Prime, crackling with unstable Sark energy. The Black Maul emerged from the rift like a beast returning to its den, scorched and bloodied from the hunt.
Naruto didn't slow down.
He drove straight through the outer gates of the Vandal stronghold, scattering guards and drones alike. The Black Maul skidded to a halt in the central courtyard, its engine hissing, its armor still stained with Earth's dust and blood.
He stepped out, slow and deliberate, the heat of the engine rising behind him like smoke from a forge.
Kalus was already waiting.
Hatch, Sever, and Krocomodo stood at his sides, their expressions unreadable. The air was thick with tension.
Kalus's voice was cold.
"You brought war to another world. You killed without sanction. You exposed us."
Naruto didn't flinch.
"I made them remember."
"You disobeyed me."
"I surpassed you."
Kalus's eyes narrowed. "You are no longer Vandal."
He raised a clawed hand.
"By decree of the Warlord, you are banished. You will leave this world and never return."
The courtyard fell silent.
Naruto stared at him for a long moment.
Then he stepped forward.
"No."
Kalus's brow twitched. "No?"
Naruto's voice was low, but it carried like thunder.
"I invoke Shavax."
Gasps rippled through the gathered Vandals. Hatch's eyes widened. Sever muttered something under his breath.
Kalus's expression darkened.
"You dare?"
"You said I'm no longer Vandal," Naruto said. "Then prove it. Hunt me. Kill me. Within one cycle. (One day)"
He stepped closer, face inches from Kalus's.
"Or I take your place."
The silence was absolute.
Kalus's claws flexed.
"So be it."
He turned to the crowd.
"By the ancient rite of Shavax, this traitor will be hunted. If he survives until the next rise, I forfeit my title. And he becomes Warlord."
Naruto turned and walked back to the Black Maul.
"You should've finished me when you had the chance."
The engine roared to life.
And the hunt began.
---
Fifteen hours later
The twin moons of Vandal Prime hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the jagged terrain. The land was quiet-too quiet. Not even the wind dared stir.
Kalus drove alone, his golden chariot gleaming in the moonlight. It was a symbol of his rule-ornate, loud, and unmistakably his. He moved with confidence, scanning the ridgelines, expecting a confrontation.
But not this.
From the cliffs above, Naruto watched.
He had spent the last cycle preparing-setting traps, rigging pressure mines, and sealing off escape routes. This was his world. His terrain. He had walked these canyons long before Kalus ever earned his first scar.
And now, he would take everything back.
The Black Maul was silent, hidden beneath a camo tarp of scorched metal and dust. Naruto sat behind the wheel, one clawed hand resting on the ignition.
He waited.
Kalus's chariot passed below.
Naruto fired the harpoons.
The chains screamed through the air, slamming into the chariot's rear axle. Kalus barely had time to react before the Black Maul surged forward, yanking the vehicle sideways. The golden chariot flipped, crashing into the canyon wall in a spray of sparks and shattered pride.
Naruto stepped out, slow and deliberate.
Kalus groaned, crawling from the wreckage, dazed and furious.
"You coward-!"
Naruto didn't speak.
He grabbed Kalus by the collar and dragged him across the dirt like a trophy. The warlord kicked and snarled, but Naruto was stronger. More focused. More furious.
The branding rig hissed to life beside the Black Maul-glowing red, shaped like the jagged maw that had become Naruto's symbol.
Naruto growled. "I take your name And Pride."
He slammed Kalus against the rig.
The first brand seared into the warlord's armor-melting the gold, warping the symbol of his rule.
The second hit flesh.
Kalus screamed.
The mark burned deep-three claw slashes intersecting a broken circle. The same mark Naruto had left on Stanford. On Agura. On Vert.
Now it was on Kalus.
"You're not Warlord anymore," Naruto whispered. "You're mine."
He threw Kalus into the back of the Black Maul like cargo, slammed the door, and climbed into the cab.
The engine roared.
And Naruto drove back to the Vandal stronghold-his enemy broken, his mark burned into the legacy of a planet.
---
The gates of the Vandal stronghold groaned open as the Black Maul rolled in, its engine growling low like a beast returning from the hunt. The courtyard was packed-Vandals of every rank and clan stood in silence, drawn by the sound, the scent, the presence of something primal.
All eyes were on the truck.
Some expected Kalus to emerge, victorious.
Others feared what they already knew.
The driver's door opened with a hiss.
Naruto stepped out.
His cloak was torn. His claws were blackened with soot and blood. The left side of his face-scarred, raw, and unhidden-caught the firelight like a war mask.
And behind him, the door to the truck's rear compartment slammed open.
Naruto reached in and dragged Kalus out by the collar like a disobedient cub. The once-proud warlord stumbled, armor scorched, his chestplate warped by the brand that still glowed faintly through the metal. His skin bore the same mark-raw, red, and permanent.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Naruto didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
He hauled Kalus forward, step by step, until they stood at the base of the throne platform. The same platform Kalus had once ruled from.
Kalus looked up at the gathered Vandals-his people. His legacy.
Then he dropped to one knee.
"By rite of Shavax," he said, voice hoarse, "I relinquish my title."
He looked up at Naruto, hatred and fear warring in his eyes.
"The Warlord is yours."
Naruto stared down at him, silent.
Then he turned to the crowd.
"I was burned. Betrayed. Forgotten."
He raised his voice, letting it echo through the stronghold.
"But I survived. I hunted. I remembered."
He stepped onto the platform, the firelight casting his shadow across the walls.
"I am not your right hand. I am not your left."
He turned, his voice a growl.
"I am the scar you gave me."
The crowd erupted-not in cheers, but in silence. In awe. In fear.
Naruto sat on the throne.
The Black Maul rumbled behind him.
And Vandal Prime had a new Warlord.
The firelight flickered across the stone walls of the Vandal stronghold as Naruto rose from the throne. His presence alone silenced the crowd. Every Vandal in the courtyard stood still, waiting for his first command as Warlord.
He stepped forward, voice steady and sharp.
My first order as Warlord is simple.
He scanned the crowd, his gaze cutting through armor and pride alike.
Any Vandal who has been scarred by the Battle Force 5... step forward.
There was a pause.
Then Kromkomodo moved, his massive frame lumbering into the open. The deep treadmark across his shoulder, courtesy of Agura's tires was still visible beneath his armor. Sever followed, his usual sneer replaced with something colder. A long scar ran down his side-Vert's doing.
Then more came.
Dozens.
Nearly fifty Vandals of varying species and ranks stepped forward, some limping, some armored, all marked by the same enemy.
Naruto nodded slowly.
Good.
He walked among them, his voice rising.
You've been wounded. Humiliated. Forgotten.
He stopped in front of them, letting the silence hang.
But I remember. And soon... they will too.
He turned, walking back to the Black Maul. The door slammed shut behind him as the engine rumbled to life. Inside the cab, he activated the comms and switched frequencies, tapping into the encrypted Sark channels.
This is Naruto. Warlord of Vandal Prime. I'm broadcasting on all Sark command channels. I want to speak to Zemerik-or anyone with the authority to make decisions.
Static.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Then seven.
The screen flickered.
Zemerik's face appeared-cold, metallic, unreadable.
What.
Naruto leaned forward, his voice calm and deliberate.
I'm the new Warlord of Vandal Prime. Kalus is done. I'm not like him.
Zemerik's eyes narrowed.
Clearly.
I'm cold. I'm calculating. And I don't waste time.
Then why are you wasting mine?
Naruto smirked.
Because I'm offering you something. An alliance.
Zemerik tilted his head slightly.
You and me. Vandals and Sark. We take the multiverse together. You get half.
And if we decline?
Then you get nothing. You get ruin. You get me.
Zemerik paused, his processors calculating.
I will... consider it.
The screen went black.
Naruto leaned back in the seat, the glow of the dashboard reflecting off his scarred face.
You'd better.
Naruto stepped down from the Black Maul, the heat of the engine still radiating behind him. The courtyard was quiet, the air thick with tension. Kalus stood nearby, still breathing heavily, armor scorched and marked with the brand that would never fade.
Naruto approached him slowly, his voice low and sharp as a blade.
You're still useful. You can stay in the force. But if I hear even a whisper of rebellion-if your name so much as echoes in the wrong tone-I'll send you to the arena. And you'll face every creature we've ever caged.
Kalus didn't argue. He nodded once, stiffly.
I understand.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, limping slightly as he made his way toward the canyon where his golden chariot lay in ruin. The mark on his armor still glowed faintly in the firelight.
Naruto turned back to the crowd.
He raised his voice-not in rage, but in command.
All who have been hurt by the Battle Force 5... wear your scars with pride. With honor. As I do.
He reached up and gestured to the left side of his face. The firelight caught the twisted flesh, the deep burns, the barely-visible eye that blinked slowly beneath the ruined socket. The crowd stared-not in pity, but in reverence.
This is not weakness. This is memory. This is proof that we survived what they tried to erase.
The Vandals murmured in agreement. Some touched their own scars. Others clenched their fists. The energy shifted-no longer fractured, no longer ashamed. They were scarred, yes.
But now they were united.
Naruto stepped back toward the Black Maul, his voice steady.
We are not done. We are not broken. We are not forgotten.
He looked to the stars above.
We are coming.
---
Planet sark
The war room deep within the Sark Citadel pulsed with cold, sterile light. Holographic displays hovered in the air, projecting maps of the multiverse, threat assessments, and intercepted transmissions. The air buzzed with quiet calculation.
Zemerik stood at the center, his frame still and statuesque, while his top lieutenants-sleek, angular machines with glowing optics-gathered around him.
The transmission from Naruto had just ended.
The room erupted in static-laced chatter.
The proposal is illogical, one lieutenant said. The Vandals are volatile. Unreliable. They lack discipline.
Another scoffed. This so-called warlord is a scarred child with a vendetta. He seeks revenge, not conquest.
Zemerik said nothing at first. He simply stared at the frozen image of Naruto's face on the screen-half-burned, half-shadowed, and entirely unafraid.
Then he spoke.
I saw the sigil.
The room fell silent.
Zemerik's optics narrowed.
Around his neck. The Warlord's chain. The sigil of Vandal Prime. It was not stolen. It was not forged. It was given-or taken by right.
One of the lieutenants tilted its head.
Even if he holds the title, he is unstable.
Zemerik turned slowly, his voice colder than the steel beneath their feet.
Unstable does not mean weak. It means unpredictable. And unpredictability... is dangerous.
He walked toward the central console, bringing up a projection of the multiverse grid.
He has already crossed into Earth's domain. He has already branded members of Battle Force 5. He has already unified a fractured Vandal force under a banner of pain.
He paused.
And he has already contacted us.
The lieutenants exchanged glances, their processors humming.
One finally asked the question they were all calculating.
Do we accept?
Zemerik stared at the map, then at the mark Naruto had burned into Kalus's armor-now circulating through Sark intelligence feeds.
Not yet.
He turned away.
But we watch. We calculate. And if he proves himself more than a scarred boy with a loud engine... we may not need to conquer Vandal Prime.
We may only need to steer it.
The war room's lights dimmed slightly as Zemerik's processors shifted into deeper analysis mode. The hologram of Naruto's scarred face rotated slowly in the center of the chamber, casting flickering shadows across the polished steel walls.
One of the lieutenants, Unit V-9, stepped forward, its voice sharp and clinical.
He is emotional. Driven by vengeance. That makes him volatile. Unreliable.
Zemerik didn't look away from the projection.
Emotion is inefficient. But it is also infectious. He has turned pain into unity. That is not to be dismissed.
Another lieutenant, Unit R-7, interjected.
He is still flesh. Still bound by weakness. His scars are not enhancements. They are liabilities.
Zemerik's optics narrowed.
And yet he survived Kalus. Defeated him. Branded him. That is not weakness. That is dominance.
The room fell quiet again.
Unit V-9 recalibrated its stance.
If we were to consider an alliance... what would be the strategic gain?
Zemerik brought up a new projection-Vandal Prime's current military strength, now reorganized under Naruto's command. The numbers were rising. Discipline was returning. The chaos Kalus had allowed was being replaced with something leaner. Sharper.
Access to Vandal Prime's war engines. Their dimensional gate tech. Their proximity to Earth's rift zones. And most importantly... a warlord who does not fear Battle Force 5.
Unit R-7's optics flickered.
And if he turns on us?
Zemerik's voice dropped to a low, mechanical hum.
Then we do what we always do.
He turned to face them fully.
We adapt. We infiltrate. We dismantle.
He paused, then added:
But for now... we observe. We let him bleed for us. If he succeeds, we gain a weapon. If he fails, we lose nothing.
Unit V-9 processed this.
And if he wins too much?
Zemerik's optics glowed brighter.
Then we remind him who taught the multiverse how to calculate.
---
Earth
The BF5 base was unusually quiet.
No engines roared. No banter echoed through the halls. The team sat around the central war table, the holographic map of the multiverse flickering above them, casting pale blue light across their faces.
Vert stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, jaw tight. His usual calm was strained-focused, but clearly disturbed.
Agura leaned forward, her elbows on the table, voice low and sharp.
He's not just chasing us anymore. He's hunting us.
Zoom nodded, his expression unusually serious.
He could've taken me out twice. He didn't. He missed on purpose.
Sherman, arms folded, muttered under his breath.
That horn... it sounded like someone screaming. That's not a vehicle. That's a message.
Spinner added, quieter than usual.
He's not just trying to win. He wants us to feel something. Fear. Regret. Guilt.
All eyes turned to Stanford.
He hadn't spoken since they sat down.
He finally looked up, voice heavy with something rare-accountability.
This is my fault.
Vert frowned.
Stanford continued.
I'm the one who totaled his ride. I'm the one who hit him with the sonic cannon. I didn't even check if he was alive. I just... drove off.
Agura's voice was flat.
You gave him that scar?
Stanford nodded slowly.
I didn't know who he was. I didn't care. He was just another Vandal. Another win.
Zoom leaned back, arms crossed.
Well, now he's not just another Vandal. He's Scarface. And he's not stopping.
Vert stepped in, voice firm.
We don't know his name. We don't know what he's planning. But we know what he wants. Us. That Battle Key was bait. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to be remembered.
Spinner looked up.
So what do we do?
Vert's eyes narrowed.
We trap him.
Agura raised a brow.
You want to capture him?
Vert nodded.
If we can't stop him, we contain him. Lock him down. Take away his wheels, his weapons, his warpath. If we have to...
He hesitated.
We end it.
Sherman blinked.
You mean... kill him?
Vert didn't answer right away.
It's not our style. But if it's him or us...
Stanford looked down at the table, voice low.
It's already him.
The war table flickered again, now displaying a rotating 3D model of the Black Maul-stitched together from battlefield footage, sensor scans, and fragments of memory. It was crude, but the silhouette was unmistakable: jagged, armored, and hungry.
Spinner leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, scowling.
I'm just saying, that thing's not a truck. It's a war crime on wheels.
Sherman nodded, rubbing a hand over the scorched side of his helmet.
He branded our rig, man. Branded it. That paint job took us weeks.
Zoom smirked slightly.
You're lucky that's all he did.
Agura cut in, voice sharp.
Focus. We're not here to complain about paint. We're here to stop him.
Stanford, unusually quiet, stepped forward and tapped the hologram. The image zoomed in on the side-mounted cannons.
These.
Everyone turned.
These are sonic reverb cannons. Same model as mine. Same frequency range. But they're... warped. Tuned differently. He's using them to destabilize, not stun.
Vert raised a brow.
You're sure?
Stanford nodded.
I know the sound. I know the feel. He's using my tech-my signature-against us.
Spinner muttered.
Great. So he's got your weapons, your rage, and your obsession. What else?
Stanford ignored the jab, pointing to the undercarriage.
Here. The overdrive core. Sark tech. It gives him that sudden burst of speed, but it's unstable. You can see the heat distortion in the footage. He can't use it too often without frying his own systems.
Sherman leaned in.
So we bait him into using it. Over and over.
Stanford nodded.
We wear him down. Make him burn through his tricks. Then we trap him.
Vert crossed his arms.
And you're the bait.
Stanford didn't hesitate.
He's obsessed with me. He'll follow me anywhere. So I lead him where we want him.
Agura frowned.
And where's that?
Stanford looked up, eyes sharp.
Somewhere we control. Somewhere we can shut him down.
Vert nodded slowly.
We'll set the trap. But if this goes sideways...
Stanford finished the thought.
Then I finish what I started.
Stanford stood tall, his finger tapping the map as the Ancient City Zone expanded in the hologram. The others leaned in, watching as the layout unfolded-crumbling towers, narrow alleys, and long-forgotten Vandal temples swallowed by time and sand.
We take him here, Stanford said. The Ancient City Zone. It's got Vandal architecture-enough to make him feel like he's on home turf. But I know this place better than anyone. It's like my second home.
Vert nodded slowly, arms crossed.
You're sure he'll follow?
Stanford didn't blink.
He's followed me across dimensions. He'll follow me into hell if I let him.
Agura leaned forward, scanning the map.
We'll need a fake Battle Key signal. Something strong enough to trigger his sensors.
Zoom chimed in.
I can rig a pulse beacon. Make it look like a Key's buried beneath the central plaza. He won't know it's fake until he's already in the killbox.
Spinner smirked.
And by then, we'll have him boxed in tighter than Sherman's snack drawer.
Sherman rolled his eyes.
We'll need more than jokes. That truck's a monster. We need terrain on our side.
Stanford pointed to a narrow corridor between two collapsed towers.
This alley here. It's just wide enough for him to squeeze through. We line it with EMP mines. Once he's in, we trigger the collapse behind him. No escape.
Vert nodded.
And we hit him from above. Agura and I can take the high ground. Spinner and Sherman block the exit. Zoom handles the beacon.
Stanford looked around the table, his voice steady.
And I'll be the bait. I'll lead him in. Make him think he's got me cornered.
Agura frowned.
And if he doesn't take the bait?
Stanford's eyes narrowed.
He will.
Stanford's voice cut through the room with rare clarity.
But since we're getting into "if's"... we make a backup plan.
The hologram shifted again as he tapped a new location-deep beneath the Ancient City Zone. A forgotten structure, half-buried in sand and shadow. The Tomb. The same one where Kromkomodo once trapped Kalus and Vert.
We lure him here, Stanford said. If the first trap fails, we fall back to the tomb. It's narrow, reinforced, and deep. No exits. No light. Just stone and silence.
Agura's brow furrowed.
You want to bury him alive?
Stanford didn't flinch.
If that's what it takes.
Vert looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.
We collapse the entrance behind him. Use seismic charges. Once he's in, we trigger the cave-in. His truck gets pinned. He gets sealed.
Zoom added, already calculating.
I can rig the charges to remote detonate. We'll need to reinforce the ceiling-make sure it doesn't collapse too early.
Spinner leaned back, arms crossed.
So we're turning a war zone into a coffin.
Sherman muttered.
Let's just hope we're not the ones inside it.
Stanford looked around the table, his voice low.
He's not going to stop. Not until he's got my face under his claws. So we stop him. One way or another.
Vert nodded.
Then we move at dawn. We set the beacon, prep the traps, and lead him in.
Agura stood.
And if he survives both plans?
Stanford's eyes narrowed, the scarred memory of the branding still fresh in his mind.
Then I finish what I started.
The chamber beneath the BF5 base was quiet, lit by soft blue light and humming with ancient energy. Sage stood at the center, her form tall and ethereal, her eyes glowing faintly with the wisdom of countless cycles. She was one of the last Sentients-an echo of a civilization that once ruled the multiverse with balance and precision.
Vert stepped forward, a data pad in hand. He projected the schematics of the Black Maul into the air-rotating blueprints, heat signatures, and energy readings flickering in the space between them.
Sage studied the image in silence.
This is no ordinary Vandal machine, she said finally. It is a hybrid. A convergence of technologies not meant to coexist.
Zoom nodded.
We've confirmed Sark overdrive cores, Vandal armor plating, Earth-based targeting systems, and... something else.
Sage's gaze sharpened.
Sentient shielding. Fragmented, but present. Likely scavenged from a fallen Sentinel-class unit.
Agura crossed her arms.
So what does that mean for us?
Sage turned to her.
It means this vehicle is not just a weapon. It is a keystone. A mobile fortress. A data vault. A power source. If you destroy it, you may lose more than you gain.
Stanford frowned.
So what, we don't destroy it?
Sage looked at him.
If you can separate him from the vehicle... capture it. Study it. It may hold the key to understanding his transformation-and stopping it.
Sherman muttered.
Yeah, easier said than done. That thing's glued to him like a second skin.
Sage nodded.
Then you must find a way to peel it off.
Vert stepped forward.
We were planning to trap him in the tomb. Collapse the entrance. Bury him and the truck together.
Sage shook her head.
Too obvious. He is not Kalus. He is sharper. More paranoid. He will expect betrayal. He will expect a trap.
Spinner raised a brow.
So what do we do?
Sage turned back to the hologram.
You let him think he's won. You let him chase Stanford. You let him get close. And when he steps out of that machine... you take it from him.
Stanford looked at the image of the Black Maul, its jagged silhouette glowing in the air.
And what if he doesn't get out?
Sage's voice was quiet.
Then you make him.
---
Back in the BF5 war room, the team gathered once more around the central table. The hologram of the Ancient City Zone hovered above them, now overlaid with new schematics-trap layouts, EMP fields, and seismic charge placements.
Vert pointed to the corridor near the plaza.
We keep the original plan. Stanford leads him in. We trigger the collapse behind him. But now, we add a second layer.
Zoom nodded, already typing.
EMP snare grid. I'll rig it to pulse in sequence-first to disable the truck's shielding, second to lock the systems. If we time it right, it'll force a shutdown.
Agura added,
And if he tries to reboot?
Spinner grinned.
That's where we come in. We hit the Maul with magnetic anchors. Lock it to the ground. If he gets out, we swarm it.
Sherman looked up from his tablet.
And if he doesn't?
Stanford's voice was steady.
Then we make him. We bait him into stepping out. Make it personal.
Vert nodded.
We don't destroy the truck. We take it.
Zoom added a final note.
I'll plant a data siphon. If we can't capture it, we at least rip everything we can from its core.
Sage's voice echoed in their minds, calm and precise.
Remember-he is not just a driver. He is a warlord. But even warlords bleed when you take away their throne.
---
Meanwhile... On the Edge of the Rift
Naruto sat in the Black Maul, the dashboard glowing with Sark glyphs and Vandal runes. The false Battle Key signal pulsed steadily on his HUD-buried deep in the heart of the Ancient City Zone.
He stared at it for a long moment.
A Battle Key... in a place like that?
He smirked.
Either fate's playing games... or Stanford is.
He leaned back in the seat, claws tapping the wheel.
Good.
The Black Maul's engine roared to life, the ground trembling beneath its weight. The portal opened before him, swirling with unstable energy.
He drove through without hesitation.
---
The Ancient City Zone
The portal spat him out into a world of sand and stone. Towering ruins loomed on either side, their Vandal carvings worn by time but still proud. The air was dry, heavy with memory.
Naruto slowed the Maul, eyes scanning the terrain.
This place... it remembered him.
He could feel it in the walls. In the dust. In the silence.
And somewhere ahead... Stanford.
He grinned, the scar on his face twitching with anticipation.
I'm coming, Rhodes.
He revved the engine.
Let's see if you scream like my horn.