POV: AMERICA UNITED TERRITORY

  Atlas and the Trolls were running wild through America United, carving a path of destruction. Bands of soldiers stationed along the outskirts had no idea what was coming for them. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the wasteland, the ambush began.

  “Fuck, it’s Atlas!” one soldier yelled, panic flooding his voice. He barely got the words out before Atlas’s sword flashed, slicing clean through his arm. The severed limb hit the ground before he did, blood spraying as the man collapsed in shock.

  “Retreat!” his sergeant screamed, but the order was futile.

  Too late.

  The Trolls were already upon them, hulking and unstoppable, their massive clubs turning the soldiers into meat patties. Bones cracked, bodies splintered, and the air was filled with the wet sounds of flesh meeting brute force. Atlas moved swiftly among them, his swords a blur of deadly steel.

  There was no mercy in him.

  In his original timeline, Atlas had tried to cling to compassion, believing he could fight without becoming a monster. He spared enemies when he could, leaving them wounded rather than dead, thinking it was a way to preserve his humanity. But the battlefield taught him a harsher truth. He had watched his companions—people who had trusted him—fall because of his mercy. Those he had spared returned to the fight, cutting down his allies while his principles weighed him down like chains.

  It was a lesson burned into his soul: in war, compassion for your enemies was cruelty to your own people.

  Now, in this timeline he was the epitome of a soulless killer.

  These men were America United soldiers, Jed Lawson’s puppets. They could have walked away, they could have defected, but instead, they had chosen to stand with the butcher of towns. They had chosen to side with those who had burned out innocent civilians, wiped out families, and left Fort Bone to deal with the fallout.

  They had chosen. Now it was time for those choices to have consequences.

  A soldier raised his crossbow, bolts already flying toward Atlas.

  THWIP

  THWIP

  The air hissed as the bolts cut through it, but Atlas, nimble in his light armor, somersaulted over the projectiles with the grace of a dancer. He landed, swords drawn in a wide arc, and before the crossbowman could reload, Atlas brought both blades down in a lethal X-shaped strike. The man’s head spun clean off his shoulders, blood erupting from the neck as his body crumpled lifelessly to the ground.

  Atlas stood still for a moment, surveying the carnage. Blood slicked the earth beneath his boots, a visceral reminder of the swift brutality of the encounter.

  Twenty-five soldiers. Killed.

  This wasn’t a battle. This was a joke.

  The Trolls were already grinning, their gruesome work done, bodies littering the ground like discarded toys. Atlas wiped the blood from his blades and sheathed them with a fluid motion. He turned toward the horizon, where Jed Lawson’s forces lay in wait, unaware of the storm headed their way.

  ‘This is what happens when you choose to butcher civilians,‘ he thought, a steely resolve settling over him.

  ‘‘‘

  POV : WASTELAND

  Olivia stood in the dimly lit room, the air thick with tension. Across from her, the leader of the Titanium Talons Mercenary Company, Commander Peter Thorn, sat with arms crossed, his sharp eyes studying her every move. The room itself was imposing—stone walls lined with weapons, maps scattered on the table, and the faint sound of drills in the background. This was the Iron Keep, the heart of the Titanium Talons’ empire, a place that hummed with the quiet threat of precision and power.

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  But Olivia wasn’t intimidated. Her charm was a weapon as much as any blade. She smiled warmly, leaning forward just enough to show she was serious, but not desperate. “We’re not asking you to fight for us,” she began, her voice smooth and confident. “We need your support—resources, safe passage, and, most importantly, information. Jed Lawson’s empire is crumbling. You’d be wise to bet on the winning side.”

  Thorn’s sharp eyes gleamed with interest, though his face remained impassive. “And what do we get in return?” His voice was calm, measured, the voice of a man used to striking deals in the heat of war.

  “Protection,” Olivia replied without hesitation. “When Jed’s empire falls—and it will—those who stood with us will have a place in the new order. You help us now, and we’ll help you thrive later. It’s a win-win.”

  Thorn leaned back, his chair creaking as he weighed the offer. The Talons were known for their loyalty, but that loyalty was bought, not given.

  “And of course we’ll pay your company to stay out of the fight, as a token of our respect,” continued Olivia.

  After a long moment, he nodded slightly, a signal that negotiations had only just begun.

  “Remember this is your chance, to get your team home, back to Earth, and there’s literally no risk to your men.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal,” he said. “We’ll also send word to our allies. No more dealings with America United—no soldiers, no intelligence. They’re cut off.”

  Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. She hadn’t expected it to be this easy. “That’s fantastic,” she said, keeping her voice steady. ‘Push your luck now,‘ she thought. “How would you feel about taking on a more active role? Not as soldiers in the main army, but as mercenaries. Your job would be to harass Jed’s forces, disrupt their supply lines, and keep them on edge.”

  Thorn raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Tell me more.”

  The previously agreed deal was already looking good. But nobody would mind getting a better deal.

  Olivia’s mind raced. The Talons had been elite mercenaries on Earth before carving out their own territory in the Wasteland. They weren’t strangers to war. “We wouldn’t ask you to join the main force or attack his strongholds directly,” she explained. “We need hit-and-run tactics, quick raids, intelligence gathering. Harassment. Nothing frontal, nothing that would get you tangled in a siege.”

  Thorn stroked his chin thoughtfully. “That’s something we could be interested in. But how does the pay work?”

  Olivia reached into her satchel and pulled out two system contracts. These contracts weren’t cheap, and the real cost came when both parties signed, locking the deal in place with mana. Betrayals were impossible under these contracts, and Atlas had drilled into her head the importance of ensuring no double-crossing.

  “If you truly are interested in stepping into the war as active participants, we have two options. Option one,” she said, laying the first contract on the table. “Your mercenaries would be hired to harass Jed’s armies. You keep all the plunder, and you’re free to enter Fort Bone’s towns. No obligations beyond that.”

  She slid the second contract over. “Option two includes all of that, but it also promises a share of the tokens that will be distributed to go home—ten tokens, to be exact.” She paused, knowing the weight of what she was offering. Those 100 tokens were like gold dust in the Wasteland. Atlas and the Celestial Emperor were supposed to split them, but Olivia was banking on the Red Fairy’s information about a new way home being accurate. Still, giving away those tokens was a gamble.

  Thorn studied both contracts, then sat back. “We never planned on going home,” he said slowly. “We like what we’ve built here. No longer mercenaries fighting for pay in shitty wars with third world countries. We are our own leaders now.” He tapped the first contract. “We’ll take this one. But we want daily pay as well as plunder.”

  Olivia resisted the urge to exhale in relief. “How much?” she asked, keeping her tone professional.

  “One mana coin per person, per day. Plus 50 for leadership”

  She did the math in her head. If it bought her an additional set of troops, it was worth it. “How many soldiers?”

  “We can field 300 men.”

  “Done,” Olivia said with a smile. 350 coins a day is a small price to pay for a force like this.

  Thorn stood, towering over her, and extended his hand. Olivia took it, sealing the deal. Another faction swayed, another nail in Jed Lawson’s coffin.

  As she walked out of the Iron Keep, Olivia’s smile widened. This was more than just a negotiation—this was a victory. The war bonds had been selling well, the mercenaries were on their side, and Fort Bone’s forces were growing stronger by the day. Jed had no idea how fast the tide was turning against him.

  ‘‘‘‘

  POV : FORT BONE

  Back at Fort Bone, Atlas stood with his commanders, a map of the wasteland spread before them. His finger traced a line through America United’s territory.

  “We’ll hit them here next,” he said, tapping the area. “Cut off their supply line. We weaken them from the inside. Meanwhile, Olivia continues to secure allies.”

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  John nodded, his expression grim. “What about Jed’s spies? He’s bound to have people watching our moves.”

  Atlas grinned. “Let them watch. By the time they figure out what we’re doing, it’ll be too late.”

  The war had begun in earnest, and Atlas wasn’t pulling any punches. With Olivia working the diplomatic angle and his elite fighters running guerrilla operations, Jed Lawson’s forces would crumble—piece by piece, town by town.

  The endgame was in sight, and Atlas had no intention of letting Jed slip through his fingers.

  ‘‘‘

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