The Eastern Ruins were a sprawling graveyard of pre-apocalypse skyscrapers, now claimed by scavengers and rogue tech-guilds. At the center of the sector stood a fortified, retrofitted broadcast tower. It was heavily guarded by Awakened mercenaries and automated mana-turrets.
Rudy walked in a straight line toward the tower, completely ignoring the layout of the streets. When a concrete wall stood in his path, he simply walked through it, the molecular structure of the stone dissolving into dust around his shoulders.
When a patrol of mercenaries raised their magic rifles to stop him, Rudy didn't even look at them. A wave of localized gravity crushed them into the pavement, flattening them into smears of blood and shattered bone before they could pull their triggers.
He moved like a silent god of death. No grand entrances, no dramatic speeches. Just a terrifying, unstoppable force of nature heading straight for the broadcast tower.
