Project ROWDY 2-24A

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A warzone spread across three levels. It used to be a simple lobby; big, corporate and clean, but still just a lobby. Now though, chaos bled across three levels — vertically, horizontally and diagonally — glass catwalks and chrome staircases as much a victim to violence as the rest of the structure and suffering for…

“OMNIPOTUS REMAINS UNBROKEN!” The air outside Chicago trembled. So did the ground, because apparently Omnipotus couldn’t say his own stupid name without making tectonics everybody else’s problem.  Also his breath smelled like spoiled milk. Somehow.  “OMNIPOTUS REMAINS UNBENT!” Maybe it was cosmic halitosis. Maybe the air was actually rotting. Hard to tell when the nightmare…

Mark tore through the upper atmosphere, speed bleeding contrails behind his boots, hugging the cloudline because maybe the wind could choke off the thoughts screaming in his skull. “He’s different… since they died. Angrier. Colder.” His gut reaction fired up instantly as Mom’s words came back: Dad wouldn’t. Dad’s… Dad. But the words collapsed halfway…

It started the way it always did. Wind screaming past, clouds slashing overhead, three streaks of color carving through the sky—red, blue, green. Townsville sprawled beneath them, all rooftops and flashing billboards and streets too narrow to matter. The city wasn’t important. Winning was. Brick surged ahead, jaw clenched, shoulders locked, every muscle pulling taut…

The black SUV coasted forward as aggressively as you would expect from a government car but, at the same time, far too calm. The engine was too quiet, tires too smooth, every bump on the winding drive smothered and perfectly quiet. Four different checkpoints, Brick counted one-by-one as they passed each one, each gate opening…