Chapter 305: The bomb...

Words : 2299 Updated : Oct 3rd, 2025

Sophie staggered back toward the main arena, each step sending fresh waves of agony through her battered body. Her knee screamed with every movement, the joint swollen and discolored. Blood continued to seep from the gash on her forehead, forcing her to repeatedly wipe crimson from her right eye. The scene that greeted her was organized chaos—Year 3 students forming defensive perimeters around younger classmates who were still shaking off the effects of the airborne sedative. Purge operatives pressed from multiple directions, but the Academy's elite student fighters held their positions with desperate efficiency. In the center of it all, twin pillars of elemental fury dominated the battlefield. Lucas and Jayden—backs to each other, surrounded by Purge elites. Lucas's form crackled with blue lightning, electricity arcing between his fingertips as he moved with fluid precision. Each strike discharged enough voltage to stop a normal heart. Beside him, Jayden's body radiated waves of rippling heat, the air around him distorting as temperature differentials created visible currents. Sophie straightened her posture through sheer force of will, wiping blood from her chin before raising her voice in command. "Barriers to the front! Ranged support, establish elevated positions!" Her voice cut through the chaos with practiced authority. "Year Two healers, triage station at south exit! Move!" Students responded immediately, the training drilled into them taking over despite their fear. Sophie limped toward a group of disoriented Year Ones, directing them toward the nearest secure exit. "Central evac route compromised," she called to a passing senior. "Reroute to secondary passages, groups of no more than six!" A deafening explosion rocked the eastern section of the arena. Sophie turned to see Lucas, Academy 12's undisputed number one student, caught in the blast radius of a Purge commander's attack. His lightning-wreathed form was hurled across the arena, leaving a trail of electrical discharge in his wake. He crashed into the wall near Sophie, concrete cracking from the impact. Before she could react, Lucas was already pulling himself from the rubble, blue electricity crackling around him with renewed intensity. Blood trickled from a split in his eyebrow, but his eyes remained clear and focused. "You look like shit," he remarked, glancing at Sophie's battered state. "You're one to talk," she shot back, grimacing as she shifted weight off her injured knee. Lucas's expression turned serious. "Where's the Minister? I thought he'd be coordinating defense by now." Sophie's face hardened. "Turns out 'Dad' has been working with the Purge all along. We can't count on official backup." "Shit," Lucas muttered, then straightened. "Noah? Any sign of him?" "Negative," Sophie replied, the word catching in her throat. "Not since he disappeared during the initial assault. Some kind of D Domain Travel thing he does, but I don't know where." Lucas nodded grimly. His body began to glow brighter, blue lightning coalescing around his form until his human shape was barely visible within the electric avatar. "I've got some ass to kick," he stated simply, then launched himself back toward the battle, becoming a streak of blue lightning that slammed into the lead Purge commander with devastating force. Sophie returned to her task, moving through groups of students, directing evacuation efforts with calm efficiency despite the chaos surrounding them. "When is backup coming?" a Year Two asked, supporting a barely-conscious classmate. "The regular military—" "We can't trust official channels right now," Sophie cut her off. 'The Minister of Defense himself is compromised. We're on our own,' she thought to herself. As she worked, Sophie's mind fixed on one person: Kelvin. If anyone could help them untangle this nightmare, it would be Noah's best friend. The technopath's genius-level intellect might be their best hope for countering whatever the Purge had planned. She followed the sounds of battle to the arena's west wing, where the control systems for the entire facility were housed. As she approached, the distinctive whine of Kelvin's mech suit power cells became audible, followed by the crunch of something—or someone—being thrown against a wall. Sophie rounded the corner to find Kelvin's mech suit locked in combat with a Purge elite. The operative's hands glowed with dark chi, the energy emitting a sickly red-white tint as he launched blasts at Kelvin's armored form. Unlike Noah or Lucas, Kelvin Pithon wasn't a natural fighter. He was more of a support staff, the team's tech genius who preferred terminals to trenches. But today, necessity had thrust him into direct combat. "You know," Kelvin's voice came through his suit's external speakers as he dodged a chi blast, "there's approximately a 78.3% chance that joining a terrorist organization leads to premature death. Just a friendly statistical observation!" The Purge operative snarled, dark chi coalescing into whip-like extensions from his fingertips. "Shut your mouth, Pithon! Where's your rich daddy now? Off counting money while you die?" The chi whips lashed across Kelvin's chest plate, leaving scorched grooves in the advanced alloy. Kelvin staggered back, systems momentarily flickering. "Diagnostics indicate superficial damage to external plating," Kelvin muttered to himself. "Nanite repair protocols initiating." He straightened, the mech suit's shoulder-mounted auxiliary weapon systems swiveling to target the operative. "You know, contrary to popular belief, my father is quite safe. Made sure of it myself before this whole mess went up to another level." Micro-missiles launched from the suit's shoulders, forcing the operative to dodge. "And as much as the old man annoys me, I wouldn't let anything happen to that obnoxious goofball." The operative rolled clear of the explosions, coming up with dark chi condensed around his fists. "Blood ties make you weak, boy. The Purge understands this. When the Harbingers come, individual lives—even family—mean nothing." "Fascinating philosophy," Kelvin replied, the suit's servo motors whirring as he charged forward. "Let me respond with a counterargument." The mech suit's right arm reconfigured on the fly, nanites flowing like liquid metal to form a reinforced battering ram. It connected with the operative's chest with bone-crushing force, sending him flying into a control panel in a shower of sparks. The operative recovered quickly, dark chi manifesting in ways that defied conventional physics. He launched himself back at Kelvin, moving with unnatural speed as he delivered a series of strikes that dented the mech suit's armor in multiple places. 'Structural integrity at 72%,' Kelvin thought, watching the HUD readouts through his visor. 'Not great, not terrible. If I can redirect power from non-essential systems...' "Having trouble, rich boy?" the operative taunted, circling Kelvin predatorily. "Daddy's money can't save you here. Webb Pithon, billionaire weapons tycoon, and his pathetic excuse for a son." Kelvin's eyes narrowed behind his visor. "Interesting that you've researched my family tree. Let me share something about myself." The mech suit hummed as power redistributed through its systems. "I'm actually not that fond of guns." The operative laughed. "Then you chose the wrong fight." "I prefer cannons," Kelvin finished, his left arm reconfiguring into a massive weapon port. "Combat Protocol: Cannon Bullet." Energy coalesced at the barrel's end—a perfect replica of Noah's Void Bullet technique, but powered by concentrated thermal energy instead of void manipulation. The blast erupted with a thunderous roar, catching the operative mid-laugh. The superheated projectile tore through his dark chi shields and struck him center mass, sending him crashing through three consecutive walls in a smoking heap. Kelvin didn't waste time celebrating. He immediately moved to the nearest intact terminal, fingers flying across the interface as his suit's systems wirelessly interfaced with the arena's network. "Let's see what these terrorists are really after," he muttered, bypassing security protocols with practiced ease. "Adaptive encryption algorithm... predictable. Who programmed this, a first-year cadet?" His wrist display pinged an alert, drawing his attention to an anomalous energy signature within the facility's core systems. Kelvin's blood ran cold as the readings registered. "That can't be right," he whispered, initiating a secondary scan. The results were identical—a heat signature consistent with a thermobaric device of massive proportions, its power source reading as... "Beast core crystals? They're using the Nexus's own power supply!" He expanded the blast radius calculation, face paling as the numbers appeared. "This would take out not just us, but a quarter of the Eastern Cardinal." He immediately began calculating variables: time to evacuate was insufficient, blast radius 4.7 kilometers, estimated casualties 329,457 minimum, structural damage ...catastrophic, probability of successful blast containment 17.2%... "Think, Kelvin, think," he muttered, fingers flying across multiple interfaces. "Containment field? No, not enough time to establish one of sufficient strength. Disarming? The trigger mechanism appears to be... wait, redundant detonators with quantum entanglement safeguards? Who designed this, a psychopath with a PhD?" A noise behind him caused Kelvin to whirl, cannons reforming at both arms. Another Purge operative stood in the doorway, darker chi swirling around his hands. "You have got to be kidding me." Kelvin sighed. "I'm trying to prevent apocalyptic destruction here, could you maybe come back in like, fifteen minutes?" The operative responded by launching a chi-blast that Kelvin barely dodged, the energy searing across his suit's shoulder plating. "I'll take that as a 'no'," Kelvin muttered, engaging combat systems again. This fight was shorter, but no less intense. Kelvin's suit, already damaged from the previous encounter, took additional punishment as he traded blows with the fresh operative. A particularly vicious strike penetrated his armor, sending pain lancing through his right side. [Damage report: minor laceration to intercostal space between ribs 4 and 5,] the suit's medical system reported. [Administering localized anesthetic and coagulant.] Kelvin gritted his teeth and retaliated with a barrage of nanite-formed blades that sliced through the operative's defenses, followed by a point-blank repulsor blast that left the man twitching on the floor. Exhausted, Kelvin slumped against the control panel, battle adrenaline fading to reveal the true extent of his fatigue. His normally ordered mind felt scattered, overwhelmed by the impossibility of their situation. "I can't do this," he whispered, sliding down to sit on the floor, knees pulled to his chest. "I'm not like him. I'm not like my father." His thoughts spiraled as he stared at the bomb schematics on his display. Webb Pithon would know what to do. The great weapons developer, the military contractor, the man who built systems that saved lives and took them with equal efficiency. Everyone expected Kelvin to be just like him—a genius with creation and destruction. "But I'm not him," Kelvin muttered, rocking slightly. "Never close enough. Never good enough. He'd would have solved this already. Webb Pithon wouldn't be sitting on the floor having a mental breakdown while his friends fight and die." "Kelvin?" Sophie's voice broke through his spiral. She limped into the control room, face drawn with pain and concern. "Are you hit? Where are you injured?" she asked, kneeling beside him despite her own wounds. Kelvin looked up at her, his expression strangely calm amid his crisis. "I can't disarm it," he said matter-of-factly. Sophie blinked. "Disarm what?" "The bomb," Kelvin replied, as casually as if discussing lunch options. "Simple design, really. Elegant even. But I can't disarm it." "What bomb?" Sophie's voice rose sharply. Kelvin gestured to his display. "Thermobaric device powered by the arena's own beast cores. Blast radius of 4.7 kilometers. Estimated casualties: 329,457 at minimum, assuming standard population density for a workday in the Eastern Cardinal. The Purge didn't just come for us—they're targeting a quarter of the sector." Sophie stared at him, blood draining from her already pale face. "Can we evacuate?" Kelvin shook his head. "Not enough time. Look at these readings—detonation sequence already initiated. We've got maybe forty minutes." "Containment?" Sophie suggested desperately. "Would need a minimum of three S-rank barrier manipulators working in concert, and even then, the probability of successful containment is 17.2%," Kelvin explained. "The quantum entanglement safeguards make traditional disarming impossible. If we tamper with any single component, it triggers immediate detonation." They were interrupted by the sound of electrical discharge as Lucas entered, his lightning form dimming as he stepped into the control room. "What's the situation?" he demanded, then frowned at their expressions. "What happened?" "We're fucked," Kelvin said simply. "There's a bomb big enough to take out a quarter of the Eastern Cardinal, with less than forty minutes until detonation, and I can't disarm it." Lucas stared. "You're joking." "I really wish I was," Kelvin replied. "The math doesn't lie. Beast cores as power source, thermobaric delivery system, quantum-entangled detonators with redundant triggers. It's actually quite brilliant engineering, if you ignore the whole mass murder aspect." The three friends sat in stunned silence, the gravity of the situation settling over them like a physical weight. Outside, the sounds of fighting continued—students defending evacuation routes, Purge operatives pressing their advantage. "So what do we do?" Sophie finally asked, her voice small. Kelvin's eyes returned to his display, running calculations that offered no comfort. "I don't know. For once in my life, I honestly don't know." Lucas leaned against the wall, extinguishing his lightning completely to conserve energy. "We need Noah," he said quietly. "His Domain Travel could at least get some people clear of the blast radius." "But he's gone," Sophie reminded him, pain evident in her voice. "And we have no idea where, or if he's even..." She couldn't finish the sentence.

Chapter 305: The bomb...

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