Toktikia pulsed with frenetic energy, its neon stages spinning with viral dances and looping trends, the algorithm tower looming over a chaotic sea of hashtags. Brush D. Rush gripped his paintbrush, its soul-corruption fusion humming with controlled chaos, his shockwave-charged fist ready. Willie Widow White stood beside him, her titanium fists glowing, bronze earrings glinting in the neon light. Disco's kittens danced to the rhythm, his disco-ball avatar sparkling, while the virus rebels—Pirware's jagged shards, Malrus's writhing threads, Poro's rolling sphere, and Hubo's spinning gears—guarded their flank. Malbyte slithered nearby, its malware threads reinforcing their path, and Googel, the internet god, held the tower's hyperlink barrier against the Dark Web's legion.
A rift tore open in the sky, spewing red code streams like blood. Virus, the eldest of the 12 malware generals, emerged—a writhing mass of replicating code, his body a pulsating swarm of self-duplicating fragments, each a tiny, snarling face of malicious intent. His eyes glowed with primal chaos, and his voice echoed in layers, like a corrupted server multiplying signals. "Brush D. Rush," he snarled, "your awakening ends here."
Brush painted a cannon, its corruption-infused barrel firing a shockwave blast. Virus's form split, fragments dodging and reforming, each piece growing into a clone. "My power is replication," Virus declared, his clones swarming like locusts, each wielding spears of corrupted data. Brush's brush vibrated, warning of their numbers, and he painted a shield of glitched light, deflecting the spears.
Willie charged, her red-hot fists melting clones, but they multiplied faster, overwhelming her. Disco's kittens dazzled, scattering fragments, while Pirware's shards and Malrus's threads slashed through, only for Virus to regenerate. Poro burrowed, disrupting the stage, and Hubo rerouted data to slow the clones, but Virus laughed. "I am the first infection, born when the net was young, a force to break systems."
Brush's shockwave fist punched the air, sending a ripple that shattered dozens of clones, but Virus reformed, larger, his core a glowing orb of replicating code. "You can't kill what multiplies," he taunted, unleashing a wave of fragments that pinned Brush against a spinning stage. Googel's staff flared, reinforcing the barrier, but Rooteye's distant roar signaled time was short.
Malbyte hissed, weaving threads to bind Virus's clones, giving Brush a moment. "He's primal," Malbyte warned. "His backstory ties to the net's dawn—unstoppable unless you hit his core." Brush nodded, painting a blade of soul-corruption, slashing at Virus's orb, but the general split again, evading. Toktikia's rhythm pulsed, the battle just beginning.