Syra shifted a massive block of shattered marble away from the ruined dais. She dug her claws into the pulverized mortar surrounding the toppled golden chair. Buried beneath the crushed velvet and splintered stone, a pristine crystalline slab caught the ambient light.

She pulled the rectangular array free from the wreckage and placed it flat on the cracked floorboards. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

The smooth surface immediately illuminated. A highly detailed projection of the Fourth Continent rendered above the glass. Ten distinct golden beacons pulsed across the western dunes and southern coastlines to highlight the exact deployment zones of the surviving Earthling Heralds.

Up in the sanctuary, Rubedo observed the tactical display through his primary monitor. He leaned back against the throne to analyze the cascading data.

King Voranthar had evacuated hundreds of thousands of citizens to melt their bodies into a walking fortress and relocated his entire command structure somewhere else. Leaving a flawless military map perfectly intact within the rubble defied basic logic.

The projection was obvious bait. Voranthar wanted the Vanguard to divide their forces and chase those specific markers into prepared kill-zones. Rubedo dismissed the glowing coordinates completely and focused on the broader geography.

The crystalline array suddenly flared with blinding white light to replace the tactical map instantly with a live visual transmission.

King Voranthar appeared on the projection. The ruler of Aethelgard stood inside a dimly lit subterranean bunker. Royal mages and armored ministers crowded the space behind him with white-knuckled grips on their staffs and broadswords.

Voranthar wore a dented golden crown and a soot-stained mantle.

"You believe you have claimed a victory, parasite," Voranthar spat at the screen. His eyes darted across the ruined architecture visible behind Syra and Iron-Scale. "You broke a hollow shell to leave my capital untouched. My true army waits to grind your beasts into dust."

Rubedo rested his chin on his knuckles and kept his expression completely blank. He watched the transmission from the safety of the Void to allow the King to dictate the flow of the conversation.

"You are a mistake," Voranthar snarled, gripping the edges of his own scrying table. "The Royal Mage should have burned you to ash on the altar. You survived the abyss by pure luck, and you think you can challenge a global power. You are an empty vessel."

Voranthar leaned closer to the crystal surface. "We extracted your future to forge real champions, and those champions will mount your skull on my gates."

The King wanted a reaction. He wanted the Supreme Sovereign to scream, issue threats, and commit his forces to a reckless assault.

Rubedo maintained his absolute silence. He scrutinized the video feed to gather active intelligence. Voranthar’s breathing was erratic, and the royal mages in the background constantly glanced over their shoulders.

The arrogance in the King’s words completely failed to mask the sheer desperation radiating from the entire command staff. They had just lost their ultimate Pre-Calamity engine and their entire surface capital in a single day.

"Are you listening to me, anomaly?" Voranthar yelled, slamming a mailed fist against his table. "I will exterminate every single monster flying your banner. I will turn your domain into a graveyard. We will find your origin and we will tear your very soul apart until you beg for the abyss to take you back into the dark and rot. You hear me? We will be the ones to end your miserable existence and we will–"

Iron-Scale stepped forward and looked directly into the crystalline array. The Kobold Inquisitor offered the screaming King a toothy grin and raised his boot. He drove his heel straight through the center of the glass screen.

The crystal shattered into a thousand useless fragments. The transmission abruptly cut off, plunging the Grand Throne Room back into silence. Iron-Scale kicked a glass shard across the floorboards.

"The bait is broken," Iron-Scale announced.

The biological fortress ceased all movement. The limbs of fused bone and twisted rock locked into the surrounding bedrock. Red watched the telemetry on his primary monitor stabilize. The palace remained a nightmare of screaming faces and calcified mortar.

It provided an ideal forward operating base for the invasion. The location overlooked the breached continental divide. Red needed to secure the perimeter and repurpose the architecture.

The current state of the fortress offered zero utility for his troops.

He pulled up his dominion interface. The system highlighted the Automated Node Telemetry skill. The ability allowed instantaneous resource teleportation between owned territories. The system logic categorized the fused corpses constructing the palace as inanimate material.

Dead biomass qualified for transit. Living souls retained systemic immunity from the teleportation matrix. Red planned to rip the rotting meat out of the walls and ship it across the ocean.

The Trinity Hive required constant sustenance to maintain their numbers. One hundred and sixty thousand symbiotic ants waited for their next meal. The mutant insects would strip the dead flesh down to bare stone in minutes.

Red tapped his obsidian console to initiate the transfer. A crimson error prompt flashed across his screen. The capital remained unregistered territory. He needed a physical anchor to override the local system grid.

"Iron-Scale," Red projected his voice into his mind. "The fortress is deceased. Sweep the surrounding plaza and plant the Spiral banner. Claim this ground."

Iron-Scale tapped his chest plate twice. He turned away from the gaping chasm to face his squad. "We secure the perimeter," he ordered. "He requires an anchor point to cleanse this structure."

Syra stepped into the peripheral darkness of a shattered pillar. She traversed the shifting masonry to scout the exterior balconies. Torix directed his forces down the spiraling staircases to clear out any remaining constructs.

Iron-Scale walked out onto the grand balcony overlooking the streets.

He unhooked a collapsed flagpole from a destroyed barricade. Unfurling a crimson banner bearing the geometric spiral, he drove the metal shaft deep into a fractured marble block. A pulse of violent purple light erupted from the banner. The energy expanded outward to cover the entire citadel.

Up in the sanctuary, Red watched the digital map shift from hostile grey to allied green. The territory successfully synced with his dominion interface.

Now, it was time for renovation and reconstruction.