Of course. I will generate the full, correct content for Chapter 107 in the dialogue box format as you have requested.
Chapter 107: The Earth's Wrath
In his throne room of black steel, General Adler watched the monitors, his face a mask of cold, seething fury. He had seen the EMP blast. He had felt his link to Nemesis, his perfect creation, sever. He had watched her collapse, a broken toy, and seen the intruder, Sophia Cohen, rush to her side.
His masterpiece was tainted. His queen was lost. His dream of a perfect, ordered world was being torn apart by a handful of chaotic, unpredictable insects. If he could not have his perfect creation, then he would give her a tomb worthy of a goddess. And he would bury the insects with her.
His hand moved to a single, uncovered control on his throne. A red, crystalline button labeled PURGE PROTOCOL.
"If you will not be my daughter," he whispered to the image of his unconscious creation, "then you will be my monument."
He pressed the button.
In the white marble hall, the lights flickered back to life, bathing the scene in a harsh, clinical glow. The Vanguard team's armor systems rebooted with a series of soft chimes. Sophia was already at her sister's side, a bio-scanner in her hand, her face a mask of desperate, frantic hope.
"The cure is working," she breathed, tears of relief tracing paths through the grime on her cheeks. "The viral markers are inert. The cybernetics are... dormant. She's just... Anna."
A deep, grinding groan, the sound of mountains being moved, cut her words short. It was a sound that came from everywhere at once. The floor shuddered violently.
"Commander!" Bao yelled, pointing.
The massive blast door they had entered through was sliding shut with a terrifying, inexorable speed. But that wasn't the true threat. From the ceiling, a solid wall of what looked like polished, dark grey stone, meters thick, began to descend. From the floor, a matching wall began to rise. The entire chamber was a closing box.
"Jack, what the hell is that?" Lin Feng demanded, his voice a low, urgent growl.
"It's not stone," Jack's voice crackled back, filled with a new, frantic urgency. "It's a tungsten-titanium composite, honeycombed with a kinetic dispersal field. It's the bunker's final tomb protocol. Nothing gets through that. Nothing."
Blaze unleashed a torrent of pure plasma at the descending ceiling. The energy washed over the surface, leaving not even a scorch mark. Bastion punched the rising floor, the sound a dull, sickening thud, and was rewarded with a fractured gauntlet. They were being buried alive.
In the Sanctuary's command center, the team watched the tactical display, their faces pale. "They're trapped," Amira whispered. "There's no way out." She closed her eyes, not to see, but to plead. She reached out across the globe, a single, desperate psychic cry sent across the network. "Diego! They need you! NOW!"
In the heart of the Amazon, Diego stood before the Heart-Tree, his eyes closed, his consciousness already spread across the globe. He felt the cold, dead stone of the Berlin bunker, a cancer in the Earth's flesh. He received Amira's cry, not as a word, but as a jolt of shared, desperate fear.
He did not ask the jungle for help. He did not plead with the trees. He became the voice of a rage that was older than mountains. His eyes snapped open, glowing with a brilliant, emerald light. He raised his hand. And he commanded.
In the tomb, the walls were now only ten meters apart. The Vanguard team had gathered around the unconscious form of Anna, a final, defiant stand.
The entire bunker was seized by a new, violent tremor, a deep, primal shudder that was not an explosion, but a convulsion. The floor beneath them did not just crack; it buckled upwards.
Then, with the sound of a world being torn apart, the Earth's wrath arrived.
It was not a vine. It was not a root. It was a god. A colossal, ancient, impossibly large tree root, thick as a subway train and hard as primordial stone, erupted from the floor. It did not just break the rising titanium wall; it shattered it, peeling the advanced alloy back like the skin of a fruit.
The root did not stop. It rose, a pillar of raw, untamed life, and met the descending ceiling with a sound that was a scream of tortured metal. The ceiling groaned, buckled, and then was torn asunder.
The root was not alone. A dozen more, a forest of the planet's own bones, rose from the abyss, tearing the chamber apart. They were not a random, chaotic force. They moved with a clear, intelligent purpose. They did not attack the team; they formed a path, a new, living, organic tunnel of gnarled, ancient wood, leading up, through the wreckage, into the darkness of the level above.
The Vanguard team stared, their minds reeling in the face of a power that was not of man or machine, but of the planet itself.
"The... the path is clear," Echo stammered, his voice filled with a disbelieving awe.
"Then let's not keep the General waiting," Lin Feng said, his own voice laced with a grim, new respect for the shaman on the other side of the world. He gently lifted the unconscious Anna into his arms. "Vanguard, on me."