As Inferius squad gets back up from their rest at the cabin, they regroup and head into the city of Cerevra to confront Malicer and Kersnik as their Conspiracy to invoke red tear gas across the globe wreak havoc throughout Erythia.
Cerevra City rose from the horizon like a concrete wound.
Its skyline wasn't defined by beauty or ambition, but by repetition—block after block of identical towers, stacked windows glowing dim red and white, surveillance pylons rising higher than church spires ever had. Floodlights swept across the outer districts in slow, mechanical arcs, washing the streets in sterile illumination.
No shadows were allowed to linger for long.
Inferius watched from the ridgeline.
Netoshka lay prone beside a collapsed highway barrier, scope trained on the outer perimeter. Below them, the city's southern gate cut through layers of reinforced walls and sensor fencing. Cameras rotated in synchronized patterns. Drones drifted silently overhead like metal carrion birds.
"Tight security," Rue muttered.
"Too tight."
Genrihk's eyes glowed faintly as he scanned the city with senses not meant for places like this.
"There is fear here," he said quietly.
"So much of it that it has weight."
Zev shifted beside him, ears twitching.
"The People don't live here. They endure."
The gate guards moved in precise formations—four-man patrols in matte crimson armor, faces hidden behind smooth visors etched with a single vertical slit. Their rifles were compact, brutal-looking, with humming coils embedded along the barrels.
Netoshka watched their routes, her mind mapping patterns faster than words.
"Those aren't city police," she said.
"Private enforcement."
"Malicer's," Surgien replied grimly.
Netoshka keyed the comm.
"Targets confirmed. We go quiet."
The squad descended.
They slipped through a drainage culvert beneath the outer wall, Circe ghosting ahead to loop sensors and deaden alarms. The moment the culvert opened into the city's understreets, the noise vanished—as if Cerevra swallowed sound itself.
They encountered the first patrol near a service checkpoint.
Netoshka moved first.
She appeared behind the rear guard in a stutter of glitching distortion, blade flashing once. The man dropped without a sound. Rue's knife took the second. Zev tackled the third into a wall, snapping his neck before he could breathe in.
The last guard raised his weapon—
Alev's suppressed shot punched through the visor.
Silence returned instantly.
Zopi stared at the bodies.
"They didn't even scream…"
"They're trained not to," Netoshka said.
"Let's move."
They dragged the corpses into shadow and advanced.
THE CITY
Cerevra was awake—but not alive.
Citizens moved along sidewalks in orderly lines, eyes downcast, steps measured. No one spoke. No one ran. Holographic banners flickered above intersections:
OBEDIENCE IS STABILITY
STABILITY IS PEACE
Every street corner had cameras. Every building face had listening nodes disguised as lights or vents. Loudspeakers hummed softly, emitting low-frequency tones that made the air feel thick.
Twila whispered,
"Why do they all walk like that?"
"Because they're being watched," Taran replied.
A child stumbled near a crosswalk.
His mother froze—not to help him, but to scan the nearest camera. Only after confirming it had passed did she pull him upright, her face pale with terror.
Zev growled under his breath.
"This place is sick."
Netoshka felt it too. The numbers scratched faintly at the back of her mind—but this time they weren't loud.
They were patient.
SURVEILLANCE HUB
They slipped into a mid-rise residential block and ascended a maintenance stairwell to a small surveillance control room embedded between floors. Screens lined the walls, each displaying different districts of the city. Facial-recognition overlays tracked citizens in real time.
Circe plugged in.
"I can loop feeds for about ninety seconds," she said.
"After that, something notices."
"Do it," Netoshka said.
The screens stuttered.
Outside, cameras froze mid-sweep.
"Move fast," Circe warned.
But they weren't fast enough.
A door slammed open behind them.
"CONTACT—!"
The guard didn't finish the word.
Genrihk's spectral chains erupted from the floor, tearing the man backward. Rue put two rounds into another as Alev ignited a short burst of fire that scorched the ceiling.
Alarms began to chirp—low, escalating.
Netoshka cursed.
"We're burned."
She slammed her palm against the wall.
Reality twitched.
The room smeared sideways as if dragged through broken glass. For a split second, every screen showed Netoshka's face—multiplied, distorted, watching herself.
Then the squad was gone.
AFTERMATH
They reappeared three blocks away in a narrow alley, breath ragged, senses ringing.
Sirens wailed in the distance.
Patrol drones surged into the air.
Netoshka steadied herself against the wall, blood trickling from her nose.
"This city is a net," she said quietly.
"And we just rattled it."
Genrihk looked toward the central spire—the tallest building in Cerevra, its crown glowing a deep, ominous red.
"That is where the fear comes from," he said.
"Everything leads there."
Zev cracked his knuckles.
"Then that's where we're going."
Netoshka wiped the blood away and straightened.
"No. Not yet.
We don't charge a place like this."
She looked back at the streets—at the silent people, the cameras, the soldiers already mobilizing.
"We learn how this system breathes first," she said.
"Because if we don't—this city will kill us before Malicer ever gets the chance."
Above them, unseen, another camera slowly turned.
And locked onto their position.