The combined rage of three factions surged towards Ryan like a tidal wave. Energy bolts sizzled through the warped air, power axes hummed with killing intent, and the floor shook with the thundering footsteps of charging warriors.
They were throwing everything they had at him, a final, desperate gamble to stop him from claiming the ultimate prize.
But they were too late.
Ryan, now at Level 9 and directly linked to the god Weaver, felt an incredible sense of power and clarity. The machine wasn't just a machine anymore; it was an extension of his own will.
He could feel the energy flowing through every conduit in the Core Chamber as if it were his own circulatory system.
"You want a storm?" he said to the empty room, a grim smile on his face. "I'll give you a storm."
