The air in the Western Empire's throne room didn't just smell like stale wine anymore; it smelled like ozone and burning circuits. Outside the massive arched windows, the capital city of Oakhaven was being torn apart—not by an invading army, but by "Data-Vines." Huge, electric-violet orchids were blooming out of the cobblestones, and every time a petal opened, a piece of a building simply "De-Rendered" into thin air.
I stood there, my boots planted on the bloodstained carpet, staring at the "Format Countdown" that was burning a hole in my vision.
"00:54:21..."
"Elara, we have to move!" the Assassin shouted. He was swinging that jagged data-blade of his, cutting through a violet vine that was trying to creep over the Emperor's throne. "The 'Guild' has already pulled the plug on this sector! They've written us off as a 'Toxic Loss'! If we stay here, we're getting 'Deleted' with the rest of the 'Trash'!"
