The Paladins didn't care about the "collateral." To them, the Under-Market was a hive of heresy, and everyone in it was a bug to be crushed. As the first wave hit the ground, they opened fire with plasma-repeaters. Bolts of superheated white light tore through Sledge's shop, vaporizing server racks and sending screaming civilians scrambling for cover.
"Sledge, get down!" Jax roared.
He didn't run. He didn't hide. He stepped into the center of the market, his spine glowing with a violent, overclocked light.
[OVERCLOCK ACTIVE: CALCIUM MANIPULATION AT 250%]
[WARNING: MASSIVE PROCESSING DRAIN]
Jax slammed both palms onto the cold stone floor. He didn't just tap into the scrap this time; he reached deeper, into the ancient foundations of the city above—into the "Mass Graves" the Paladins had filled years ago.
"Rise!"
The ground buckled. With a sound like a thousand dry branches snapping at once, massive ribs of ivory-colored bone erupted from the floor. They didn't just spike; they curved, interlocking like the fingers of a giant, forming a massive, rib-cage dome around Sledge's shop and the fleeing merchants.
Plasma bolts splashed harmlessly against the calcified barrier. The bone was dense, reinforced by the "Legacy System's" dark code.
[BULWARK ESTABLISHED]
[INTEGRITY: 88%]
[PROCESSING POWER: 30% AND DROPPING...]
"Unit-01! At the gap!" Jax pointed to the main entrance of the dome.
The zombie paladin moved like a blurred shadow, its mag-blade whistling as it intercepted two Enforcers trying to breach the wall. Jax's vision flickered. Using the system to build something this large was like trying to hold back a flood with his bare hands.
"You... you're a monster," a merchant whispered, staring at the walls of bone surrounding them.
Jax didn't look back. His eyes were fixed on the Paladin Captain descending on a gravity-line. The Captain wore golden-etched armor, and his visor glowed with a calm, murderous purity.
"The Son of the Necromancer King," the Captain's voice echoed through the cavern. "Building a tomb for his friends. How poetic."
"It's not a tomb," Jax grunted, his nose beginning to bleed from the strain of the Overclock. "It's a fortress. And you're not invited."
Jax felt the Vortex-7 rig vibrate against his vertebrae. He had used almost all his energy for the defense. He needed a way to turn t
he tide before the barrier collapsed.