In the dimly lit halls of the Vanguard's base, the air buzzed with tension. Amid the flickering torches and stone walls adorned with stolen relics, Vorthax, the unhinged leader of the Black Vanguard, sat perched atop a makeshift throne. His figure was gaunt yet unnervingly commanding, draped in tattered, mismatched clothing that seemed stolen from those who had crossed his path. A faded scarf hung loosely around his neck, and a collection of daggers and trinkets jingled from his belt. He looked like a thief masquerading as a king, and yet the room obeyed his presence.
Vorthax's wild eyes gleamed as he traced a jagged line across a crudely drawn map of the Free World spread before him. His fingers, calloused and smeared with soot, hovered over key cities, tapping rhythmically as if calculating chaos itself. His voice broke the silence, sharp and erratic.
"They think their walls will protect them… their sentinels will save them." He let out a dry chuckle, the sound grating and deranged. "But walls are just illusions. They crumble. They burn."
One of his lieutenants cautiously approached, bowing low before speaking. "My lord, Viper, Shade, Saria, and Renik have begun the operation. The infiltration has started."
Vorthax's grin widened, his crooked teeth bared as he threw his head back in laughter. "Perfect, perfect! Let them feel the sting of chaos, a taste of the order we bring!" He leaned forward, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "The Free World's sense of security is their weakness. Their 'freedom'… their 'peace'… I will strip it all away."
He gestured to a glowing orb that floated at the center of the table, projecting real-time images of the invasion. Viper and Shade were perched atop a towering building, the sharp crack of Viper's rifle echoing as the bullet tore through the sky. Saria and Renik, meanwhile, prowled the eastern sector, their movements precise and calculated.
"They move like dancers on a stage I've built for them," Vorthax muttered, watching the chaos unfold. His fingers tightened around a jagged dagger he twirled absentmindedly. "Viper's shot… Shade's mark… oh, how beautiful destruction is when wielded by artists."
His lieutenant hesitated, then spoke again. "What of the sentinels, my lord? They have activated the city alarms. Resistance will rise."
Vorthax waved him off dismissively. "Resistance?" His voice was mocking, dripping with venom. "Let them resist. They'll fall just the same. If their precious sentinels rise, it will only make the fall sweeter." He leaned back in his throne, his gaze unfocused as if staring into a world only he could see. "Viper and the others are already in motion. Let the Free World tremble. We'll take their cities one by one until even their leaders bow before us."
He rose suddenly, his movements erratic yet purposeful, pacing the room as he continued his tirade. "The Free World believes in freedom, but freedom is chaos! I will bring them true order—my order. By the time we're done, their streets will run red, their walls will crumble, and their ideals will be ash in the wind."
Stopping abruptly, Vorthax turned to his lieutenant, his wild grin replaced by a look of terrifying clarity. "Send a message to the others. Tell them to prepare for phase two. This is just the beginning."