The city held its breath, unaware that the hands guiding chaos were mine. Every conduit, every pipeline, every hidden panel I'd marked months ago now formed a lattice for destruction. The C-13 gel—C-13, not some random stash lay in perfect alignment beneath crates, behind walls, at pressure points only I knew mattered.
Flicker… hum… metallic groan…
I didn't light a match. I didn't have to. Every diversion I planted earlier false ledgers, misindexed shipments, whispered tips to Carrow and Krain now danced in tandem. Confusion erupted on schedule, as predictable and perfect as a metronome.
I pressed my hand to a control panel, feeling the pulse of the Veins. The city's machinery wasn't just alive; it was nervous, twitching under my fingertips, ready to amplify every calculated spark.
Click… hiss… low vibration…
The first controlled blast rattled the core, a warning that made half the lieutenants stumble in panic. Lyric cursed somewhere deep in the labyrinth; Carrow's men turned too late, too slow. Chaos fed itself, perfectly choreographed.
From above, I watched the flames spread literally and figuratively through tunnels and corridors I knew like veins in my own arm. Every misstep, every scuff, every planted anomaly now came home to roost. The factions tore at each other, blinded by suspicion and misinformation.
Low rumble… flicker… soft metallic crack…
I allowed myself a slow, satisfied smile. The Veins whispered approval. Their hum was a symphony only I could conduct. My lips twitched. "Amateurs in a playground, thinking they built the jungle. Cute."
The last of the detonations echoed, sending reverberations through walls, ceilings, and egos alike. Civilians scrambled where they could, though I made sure no real harm fell on them yet the illusion mattered more than the casualty. Fear, confusion, the subtle rise of rebellion they were my true explosives.
And as the city groaned under orchestrated chaos, I stepped back, surveying the ballet of my making. Every pawn moved exactly where I wanted, every lie I told came alive, and every hidden trap I set paid off.
"Perfect," I muttered, voice low, dry. "They'll be looking for a fire. And I just set the whole building ablaze."
No cheers, no acknowledgment. Just the city, twitching and alive, and me, standing on the knife's edge of victory.