Chapter 10: The King's First Order
The silence in the maintenance bay was absolute. The only sound was the drip of condensation and the low, almost imperceptible hum of his newly integrated cybernetics. The Stream Goal hung in his vision, not as a request, but as a decree.
`EXECUTE MARCUS VALERIUS.`
It was the ultimate test. A final, bloody baptism into Omni-Stream's inner circle. Partner Status. It meant freedom from goals, a share of the profits, real power. It was everything he had been fighting for. All it would cost was the last shred of the man named Will.
He could refuse. He could run. He could use his backdoor and his Crowns to try and disappear.
But he saw the address in the data stream. The termination order. Omni-Stream would kill Valerius whether Will did it or not. If he refused, Valerius would die for nothing, and Ava would be next. The system didn't make empty threats. It was a meat grinder, and it demanded its pound of flesh.
The cold, logical part of his mind, the part now woven with Tier-4 circuitry, calculated the outcomes. There was only one path that offered any future at all.
"Accept the Stream Goal," Will said, his voice a flat, metallic echo in the empty space.
The golden heart ignited. The viewer count exploded, shattering previous records. They knew. The rumors of his Nexus run were legend, and now this? This was the main event.
`>>Chaos_Craver: YES! FINISH THE JOB!`
`>>StyleSniper: Poetic. The student surpasses the master, then buries him.`
`>>Nyx: (Donated: 10,000 Credits) A king must sometimes wield the axe himself. Do not flinch.`
He moved through the arcology's mid-levels, a ghost in the crowds. The citizens parted around him without knowing why, sensing the danger that clung to him like a shroud. He arrived at the company housing block—a grim, grey tower identical to a thousand others. The air smelled of cheap protein paste and despair.
He didn't hesitate. He didn't plan a spectacle. This wasn't for style. This was an execution.
He bypassed the cheap lock on Apartment 48B and stepped inside.
The room was small and bleak. Marcus Valerius sat at a bare table, a half-empty glass of synth-whiskey in his hand. He was out of uniform, wearing a faded grey t-shirt. He looked older, deflated. The fire of the enforcer was gone, leaving only ashes. He didn't look up as Will entered.
"I wondered when they'd send you," Valerius said, his voice rough. He took a slow sip. "The famous Psychopath. Come to give me a 'stylish' send-off?"
The audience was screaming, the comments a torrent of bloodlust and morbid fascination. The viewer count passed one million.
Will said nothing. He drew the monomolecular blade he'd acquired with his Nexus credits. It glinted in the dim light, a sliver of absolute finality.
Valerius finally looked at him. There was no fear in his eyes. Only a deep, bottomless resignation. "Just make it quick. For my daughter's sake. Let her remember the hero, not the... this."
Will's enhanced senses took in every detail. The tremor in Valerius's hand. The single, small hologram of a smiling little girl on the shelf—Elara. The absolute surrender in the man's posture.
This was it. The point of no return.
He took a step forward, the blade held ready. Valerius closed his eyes.
Will moved.
But not toward Valerius.
His arm snapped out, and the blade buried itself not in the enforcer's heart, but in the wall-mounted control panel by the door. Sparks erupted. The room's lights died, and the live stream feed to the outside world dissolved into static.
In the sudden, absolute darkness, broken only by the glow of the city through the single window, Will spoke, his voice low and urgent.
"We have sixty seconds until they realize the stream is a loop and send a real team. Listen to me. Your daughter is already secured. I transferred her to an off-grid sanctuary an hour ago. The file they have on her is a fake. She's safe."
Valerius's eyes flew open, shock replacing the resignation. "What... why?"
"Because they made me a monster," Will hissed, his face inches from the enforcer's. "But I get to choose who I eat."
He shoved a data-chip into Valerius's hand. "This is a new identity. A transport pass. Go to the coordinates on that chip. Your daughter will be waiting."
The sound of heavy boots pounded in the corridor outside. Time was up.
Will turned toward the door, his cybernetic systems priming for combat. He had just betrayed Omni-Stream on a global stage. He had stolen their prize.
He looked back at the stunned ex-enforcer one last time, a grim, terrifying smile on his face as the apartment door exploded inwards.
"The game has changed," Will said. "Now, we go to war."