He goward the prison, a cold smile f on his lips. In the ter of Sing Sing Prison, a group of hardened men with cruel faces gathered in the open yard, ughing loudly as they passed around bottles. Over a makeshift barbecue, ks of unknow sizzled on the fmes, filling the air with a greasy, smoky smell. Nearby, several women, their clothes torn and exposing their private parts, were pushed around by the men, their hollow eyes full of fear. A few vehicles were parked nearby, loaded with firearms and ammunition taken from the prison’s armory. Among the ons were heavy arms—mae guns, rocket unchers, and even a rge Gatling gun, still partially covered.

  Inside one of the prison cells, where inmates had once bee, a group of survivors—men and children with pale faces and thin bodies—sat huddled together. They nervously shifted their gazes, avoiding the sight of the women who had been dragged out to be vioted. They knew what was happening was wrong, but there was nothing they could do.

  “Boss, with this stash of ons, we’ll trol all of NYC!” shouted a man with burn scars on his face, speaking to the gang leader beside him. This man, known as Scorpion, was one of Arthur’s most loyal thugs.

  Arthur leaned ba his chair, one arm possessively draped around a young female student, his fingers digging into her chest so hard she winced. She bit her lip, knowier than to cry out—she had seen what happeo those who resisted: burned or beaten to death, then thrown onto the grill like cattle.

  “trol NYC?” Arthur chuckled coldly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Scorpion. “Did you fet how you got those scars?”

  Scorpion’s face darke the mention of his burns. The scars were a reminder of a failed raid against another survivroup iy, led by a fierce red-haired woman named Erza. Despite their numbers, her group had humiliated them and forced them to retreat.

  “Boss, we’re different now,” insisted another man, stepping forward with a sly grin. His name was Tommy, niamed Yellow Dog.

  “You said that st time, Yellow Dog,” Arthur sneered, his eyes gleaming dangerously.

  “But boss, we didn’t have these back then!” Yellow Dog said eagerly, rushing over to one of the vehicles and pulling back a tarp to reveal an impressive stash of ons. “Heavy mae guns! Rocket unchers! And look at this... well, I ’t even move it, but there’s even a Gatling gun in here!”

  He stepped back with a smirk, letting the sight of the ons sink in. “With this firepower, there’s nothing in NYC that stop us. Not even Erza! Imagine her, boss. She’d be yours to do with as you please.”

  A gleam of sadistiticipation flickered in Arthur’s eyes. He imagihe fieran broken and begging for mercy. “If she resists, she’ll end up like the rest,” he growled, raising his gss in a toast. “Once I’m done, I’ll share her around. Everyone here gets a taste!”

  The meed in drunken cheers, their voices eg across the yard. None of them noticed the silent figure that colpsed from the guard post atop the wall, a long, thin spike lodged in his chest. As his body slumped over, a meical spider with sleek, metallic legs withdrew its leg from the wound, its cold, red eyes sing for the arget.

  In the woods outside the prison, Zack listeo the updates from his AI assistant, Ego, through his MV-01 suit. At his feet, a meical dog crouched, watg the prison silently, its tail twitg occasionally.

  “Sir, the uards have beeralized,” Ego’s voice reported. “The meical spider is en route to the gate trol room.”

  Ihe prison, the meical spider moved swiftly, sg the walls with ease, its pointed legs digging into the crete as it desded to the ground level. It moved like a shadow, silent and deadly, as it slipped through the pound toward its target.

  “Hmm?” Yellow Dog squinted as something darted past his field of vision. He he man beside him. “Did you see that?”

  “See what?” the man replied dismissively. “You’re seeing things. Here, keep the girl pany.”

  But Yellow Dog shook his head, a sense of utling in. Ign the woman, he peered toward the prison wall—and froze. The guards he had statiohere were slumped over, dead, each with a gaping hole in their chest. “Enemy attack! Enemy attack!” he screamed, panic rising in his voice as he poio the spot where he’d st seeallic blur.

  But it was too te. Ihe gate trol room, the meical spider ected with the power switch, sending a signal to the prison gates. With a grinding whihe heavy iron doors began to open slowly, creaking as they parted. The prisouro stare, shock fshing across their faces.

  Then, from outside, a gleaming silver figure shot through the opening. The meical dog’s cws gleamed uhe dim prison lights as it shredded a prisoner’s chest effortlessly. Panicked gunfire erupted as some prisoners frantically aimed at the metallic beast, only to wat horror as their bullets bounced harmlessly off its reinforced exterior.

  “What are you all standing around for?” Arthur shouted furiously. “Get to the voy and grab the heavy artillery!”

  Snapped back to reality, a group of criminals scrambled to the voy nearby. They tore off the oilcloth c, revealing an armory of heavier ons. Just then, another meical figure—a spider-like mae with razor-sharp limbs—emerged from the shadows. Its limbs moved with deadly precision, striking out to impale and eliminate any prisoner in its path.

  “Where the hell did all this e from?” Arthur cursed, raising his Desert Eagle and firing desperately at the advang meical spider. Yet his bullets bounced off as the spider edged closer, unhindered.

  Just as it seemed Arthur would be killed, a new sound cut through the air—a deep, thunderous roar as a Gatling gun spun up. A bzing line of fire erupted, narrowly missing Arthur’s ear but catg one of the spider’s legs, tearing it off with its force.

  Arthur spun around in shock, only to see his own subordinate, Yellow Dog, wielding the Gatling gun. Moments ago, Yellow Dog had struggled to lift it, but now, as if possessed, he ha single-handedly, his other arm feeding the ammo . Without hesitation, he unleashed a relentless hail of bullets on both meical creatures.

  The Gatling’s storm of bullets soon turoward Arthur. “You dare betray me?!” Arthur’s face twisted in fury, but before he could act, the fiery stream of bullets sliced through his body, splitting him in two.

  “Boss!” someone screamed from the crowd.

  Another prisoner, Scorpion, shouted in rage, “You filthy traitor!” He raised his gun to fire at Yellow Dog. But Yellow Dog swiftly redirected the Gatling gun, ripping Scorpion to shreds in a matter of seds.

  Outside the prison, Zack observed the se via satellite feed, his jaw dropping in amazement. “This guy’s staging a whole rebellion during an attack?” he muttered incredulously. “Ego, who do you think gave them the guts to do this?”rt