The Frequency War
[Date: August 6, 980 GD. Time: 15:00. Location: Mayor's Office -- Nexus Hall, Civil Administration Floor] (Day 1 of the Ultimatum)
"You created a warzone in my backyard, Praetor."
Mayor Elara Voss's voice wasn't loud, but its vibration could shatter glass. She wasn't sitting behind her desk. She stood in front of the large window overlooking the city, her back to me, the smoke from her e-cigarette aggressively billowing into a mint cloud around her head.
On her work desk, a monitor displayed bleeding graphs.
Civil Safety Index: Plummeted 40%.
Riot Reports: 120 incidents in 6 hours.
Utility Status: Critical (Water Contaminated).
I sat in the guest chair, hands folded in my lap. My body had turned cold again after that "lunch," but at least my stomach was full and my mind clear. Rian stood in a corner, clutching his tablet like a shield, not daring to meet Elara's eyes.
"That's not a warzone, Mayor," I corrected calmly. "It's a containment operation. Controlled Chaos."
"Controlled?" Elara spun around quickly. Her usually tired face was now flushed red with suppressed anger. She slammed the desk.
"Five hundred criminals with bombs around their necks looting the Layer -1 market. Iron Eater bike gangs are shooting it out with them in the streets. And the water..."
Elara pointed at a screen showing CCTV footage of a public tap down there. Murky brown water was flowing out.
"You poisoned the water supply, Wynter. You're making thousands of people sick and dehydrated. My Trade Unions are furious. They're threatening to cut power to the Nexus Hall if you don't open the clean water valve right now."
"I can't open it, Elara," I replied flatly. "Not because I don't want to. Because I'm not allowed to."
I leaned forward, staring into her eyes sharply.
"You think I'm doing this for fun? This is a Sky Command."
Elara fell silent for a moment, her e-cigarette hanging in the air. "What?"
"The Joint Commission," I explained. "They summoned me to Zenith-Zero this morning. They gave me an ultimatum: Clean up the Under-City before the Tournament begins, or they'll send an Orbital Strike to wipe that entire sector off the map."
I pointed towards the CCTV screen showing the chaos.
"That chaos you see? That's the humane alternative. I'm saving their lives from total annihilation by giving them a bit of stomach ache and fear. I'm buying them time with dirty water."
"Don't talk to me about humanity with that foul mouth of yours," Elara hissed, her voice trembling with disgust. "You call poisoning children a 'rescue'? That's not the logic of a leader, Wynter. That's the logic of a monster."
She walked around the desk, approaching me.
"Morality isn't just math about casualties, Praetor. Morality is about lines you must not cross. You broke your oath of protection. You're using civilians—people you're supposed to protect—as hostages to pressure your enemy."
Elara looked at me with a judging gaze, the gaze of a mother seeing her child turn into a murderer.
"How are you any different from Vance? He's holding the coolant pipes hostage. You're holding the people's throats hostage. You're both terrorists playing God on the suffering of the little people."
"The difference is I'm winning," I retorted coldly. "And in this world, Elara, morality is a luxury for those without a boss. I have a boss. And that boss lives above the clouds."
"And if your boss ordered you to burn down an orphanage, would you do it?" Elara challenged.
"If it prevents this city from being leveled? Yes. I'd light the match myself."
Elara shook her head, taking a step back as if I were a contagious disease.
"You're lost, kid. You think you're playing chess, but you've already lost your soul on the first move."
"The soul doesn't pay the electricity bill, Elara. And the soul doesn't stop Vance from closing the valve. Only fear can—"
ZZZZZT!
My words were cut off.
Not by Elara. But by an ear-splitting static sound.
All the screens in Elara's office—work monitors, wall TV, even the tablet in Rian's hand—suddenly flashed a blinding white.
And not just here.
Outside the glass window, I saw the giant billboard in Neon Harbor, which usually showed casino ads, suddenly turn to static. Screens at Iron Plaza, screens on White Avenue... all hacked simultaneously.
"What in the..." Rian muttered in panic.
The white screen faded, replaced by a clear image.
It wasn't Vance's face. Vance was too smart for that.
It was amateur video footage. Live Feed from the Under-City.
The image was shaky, taken from the perspective of someone hiding. The camera focused on a crowded emergency clinic ward in Layer -1.
The sound of children crying filled the room's speakers.
On screen, a mother was holding her vomiting child. Brown water pooled on the floor. The camera shifted, showing a convict with a glowing red Collar beating an old merchant to steal a bottle of clean water.
Then, large red text appeared over the horrifying image.
[A GIFT FROM THE SKY]
A narrator's voice was heard. Vance's voice, but distorted into a heavy, accusatory tone.
"Look, Citizens of Zero Point. Look what your 'Protector' is doing."
"Grand Praetor Wynter Ash didn't send aid. He sent poison. He sent murderers."
"He claims this is a holy mandate. But look at this water. Look at this blood. Is this the justice of the Sky? Or is it merely the cruelty of a boy given power?"
On screen, the image switched to the Nexus Hall Command Center—stolen footage from my own camera as I ordered Silas to turn the water valve.
My face was displayed clearly on the city's giant screens, saying coldly: "Make them understand their position."
"He's poisoning your children just because I asked for justice. Is this your leader? Or is this a Devil wearing a student's robe?"
The screen went black. Back to a facial soap commercial.
Silence.
A deadly silence in Elara's office.
Rian dropped his tablet. His face was deathly pale. "He... he recorded us? He hacked the Nexus?"
Elara stared at me. Her expression changed from anger to horror mixed with bitter triumph.
"Well, Praetor," Elara whispered. "You talked about morality as a weakness? Now the whole city has just seen your rotten morality."
"You're finished, Wynter. In one hour, not just the Under-City will revolt. Civilians up here will demand your head. And me? I won't protect you."
I sat quietly. My heart was beating fast, but not from fear. From adrenaline.
Vance was clever. He wasn't attacking me with weapons. He was attacking me with Truth. He was using Aurum's weapon (Information) against me.
He was trying to wage a Narrative War.
I stood up slowly, straightening my robe.
"He thinks he's winning because he showed the truth?" I asked softly, a thin, cynical smile appearing on my lips.
"Truth is plastic, Elara. Truth is what the masses believe."
"You can't deny that recording! That's your face! Your voice!" Elara exclaimed.
"I don't need to deny it," I replied. I walked over to Rian, picking up his fallen tablet.
"I just need to change its context."
I looked at Elara.
"Mayor, you have two choices now. Choice A: You hold onto your holy moral principles and join the crowd demanding my head. But remember, if I fall, the Sky Mandate doesn't disappear. Titus will take over. And Titus won't use dirty water. He'll use live ammunition."
"Choice B: You help me lie. You save your city by sacrificing a little more of your soul."
Elara clenched her fists. "You devil."
"I'm a politician," I corrected. "Now, choose. Blood on the streets, or lies on the screen?"
I activated my Magitek Gauntlet, accessing the Global PA System—an exclusive right of the Grand Praetor.
"Vance just made a fatal mistake, Elara. He showed the victims' faces. And the public needs someone to blame. I'll make sure their fingers point at him, not at me."
I pressed the broadcast button.
[CITY-WIDE BROADCAST: PRIORITY OVERRIDE]
My voice echoed to every corner of the city, overriding the remnants of Vance's broadcast.
"Citizens of Zero Point. This is the Grand Praetor."
My voice was calm, authoritative, and full of fabricated sorrow.
"What you just saw is the desperate propaganda of a terrorist."
"Governor Vance... in his panic as his crimes are exposed... has sabotaged the water pipes in his own territory. He poisoned his own people to use them as moral hostages. He fabricated that recording to divide us."
I glanced at Elara, giving her a sharp look: Back me up, or we both go down.
Elara hesitated. Her face twitched, an internal war between morality and pragmatism. She looked out the window, at the crowds beginning to gather. She knew Titus was a far worse option.
Elara let out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping in defeat. She picked up the microphone on her desk with a trembling hand.
"This is Mayor Voss," Elara's voice trembled, but she forced firmness. "We confirm the sabotage. Vance is holding the water supply hostage. The Senate is conducting an emergency rescue operation. Please remain calm."
I turned off the microphone.
"Good," I said flatly. "Now, the lie is official fact."
Elara looked at me with pure hatred. "Never speak to me about justice again, Ash."
"I won't," I replied, turning toward the door. "And now, since Vance has played dirty with the media... I have a legitimate reason to escalate."
"Get the gas masks ready, Rian. Tomorrow, we won't be playing with water anymore. We'll be playing with fire."
[Date: August 6, 980 GD. Time: 22:00. Location: Nexus Hall -- Command Center] (Night, Day 1 of the Ultimatum)
"Mathematics never lies, Praetor. But this map... this map is spitting in my face."
Director Vianna stood in front of the holographic strategy table, her slender fingers tapping the air with a rarely shown frustration. The blue light from the map reflected in her purple cybernetic eyes, creating a restless digital ghost effect.
I sat in the command chair, wrapped in three layers of thick blankets, sipping the bitter herbal "medicine" from Elara. My body was still weak, the remnants of this morning's thermal crash still throbbing in my bone marrow, but my eyes were fixed sharply on the data Vianna presented.
"Explain," I ordered hoarsely. A thin, white steam came from my mouth, the only sign I was still alive and cold.
"Look at this," Vianna enlarged a graph of energy consumption at Vance's headquarters in Layer -3.
"The logic is simple. Titus has blocked all physical gates. A meter-thick concrete seal covers the main access. Silas has cut off the clean water. Mathematically, their generator reserve should have dropped 15% in 12 hours. The temperature in their bunker should have risen because the coolers are off. They should have started turning off lights to save power."
Vianna roughly swiped the graph aside, revealing an infuriatingly stable, flat line.
"But look. Stable. Perfect. Their generators are running at 100%. Bunker temperature is optimal. Lights are on bright. And my seismic sensors are picking up rhythmic vibrations in Sector 7G—an area marked on the city map as 'Solid Rock' or a local Dead Zone."
Vianna looked at me sharply, her corporate arrogance replaced by a predator's wariness.
"Vance isn't surviving on scraps, Wynter. He's being supplied. There's a logistics route that's not on the Senate map. Not on the Valdor map. Not on the Aurum map."
"A Ghost Conduit," I whispered.
I set down my cup. The sound of ceramic hitting the table echoed loudly in the quiet room.
"A rat line," I murmured. "Or worse... a VIP route."
If Vance had access to outside supplies, this siege would fail. My three-day ultimatum would become a joke. He could hold out there forever while we guard the empty door above.
I couldn't allow that. But I couldn't go down myself. My legs were still too shaky to descend stairs, let alone fight. I needed an executioner.
I looked toward the dimly lit corner of the room.
Kara was sitting on the floor, sharpening her combat knife with a coarse whetstone. The rhythmic sound of sreeet... sreeet... was the only music she enjoyed. She looked bored to death, like a tiger caged in a hamster pen.
On the ledge of the large glass window, Solstice sat hugging her knees, staring blankly at the city lights below. Her black umbrella lay beside her. She no longer looked in pain, but she looked... empty. As if without the constant pain, she was confused about what to feel.
"Kara. Solstice," I called.
They both turned simultaneously. The wolf and the dragon.
"Are you bored?"
Kara grinned widely, jumping up with terrifying agility for a woman her size. "Very, Boss. My hands are itching to hit something harder than this table."
Solstice slid down from the window ledge with a slow, lazy motion. "As long as it's not boring," she mumbled.
"There's a job for you," I said, throwing the coordinates for Sector 7G to their Smart-IDs.
"Go down there. Find the source of those vibrations. If it's a rat hole, seal it. If it's a convoy... destroy it."
"Destroy?" Solstice asked, her glowing blue eyes suddenly sparkling with interest. "How destroyed?"
I looked at her directly.
"Until nothing is recognizable. Until not even ash remains."
I paused for a moment, then added in a cold tone.
"But bring back one cargo sample for me. I want to know who's bold enough to feed my enemy while I'm ordering them to starve."