Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 714: Farewell, Peter Strauss.

Meanwhile, Moon had managed to pull off the greatest bluff in the history of the post-apocalyptic world. She had convinced her companions_ and most importantly, Tigan_ that she had successfully charmed the Fire King into an alliance with Peter Strauss.

Of course, she dragged it out for hours because Peter would be suspicious if she returned with good news so quickly. So, when she came out of the tent, she had a burn mark on her arm, her clothes are dusty and her hair messed up. She looked like she had been through some rough times.

Which she had: technically. In Garrison’s bed!

Tigan was practically beaming. He was so pleased that he had sent a messenger back to Crosstown with a message that read like a victory lap. When Peter Strauss received the note, the crushing anxiety that usually sat on his chest like a lead weight finally lifted.

He made preparations to welcome them and began pacing the command room of his bunker, his boots clicking rhythmically on the polished concrete.

"Are they here yet?" Peter asked for the tenth time in an hour. "Tigan says the Fire King is bringing the whole army with him, and soon I will be able to command it."

Cassius, leaning against a cold metal pillar, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. He was fiddling with a lucky gold bracelet which he had reclaimed recently_ and his eyes kept shifting between the jewelry and his father’s restless pacing.

"You’re making a mistake, father," Cassius said, his voice flat. "Trusting Moon is like hugging a cactus. You’re going to end up bleeding." He was already thinking of his exit strategy. If his father insisted on going down this path, it would be on his own.

Peter stopped pacing and let out a sharp, dismissive bark of a laugh. "I don’t trust her, Cassius. I’m using her. Once I have the keys to Fortress Four and Hades is a corpse, I’ll discard her like a spent shell casing. She’s a tool, nothing more."

"And you think she doesn’t know that?" Cassius asked, raising an eyebrow. "She’s many things like a whore, but she isn’t stupid."

"She needs me," Peter insisted, puffing out his chest. "She needs my resources and my burning desire to see Hades dead. Why would she throw that away? We have a mutual goal for now. Besides, she wouldn’t dare try anything in my territory. That’s why I sent Tigan with her_ to keep her on a leash."

Cassius let out a long, weary sigh. He snapped the bracelet onto his wrist. "If you say so. But if the ’tool’ decides to hammer you in the head, don’t say I didn’t warn you." He wondered if his father was thinking straight. What was Tigan in comparison to an entire army of pyrokinetics?

Suddenly, the shadows in the room flickered. The light outside grew unnaturally intense, glowing with a harsh, orange hue.

"Looks like your ’guests’ have arrived," Cassius announced.

"Go," Peter commanded, his face lit up with greedy excitement. "Go and bring them in. Show them the hospitality of the Strauss name."

Cassius nodded, though his gut was screaming at him to run the other way. He walked out, hopped into a rugged jeep, and drove toward the main gates. As the heavy steel doors groaned open, his heart sank. The pyrokinetic army wasn’t just visiting; they were marching.

It was a river of fire. Hundreds of soldiers, their skin glowing with internal heat, flames licking at their shoulders. They marched in perfect, terrifying unison. At the front of the pack, flying on a flame was the Fire King, looking like a god of embers. And beside him was Moon.

She was smiling. It was a bright, dazzling smile_ the kind of smile a shark might give a lifeguard.

"Look at this sir!" Tigan shouted as he packed his car, waving enthusiastically at Cassius. "Can you believe it? We’re actually going to win! We shall take that fortress."

Cassius didn’t wave back. He watched Moon’s face and felt a shiver run down his spine. She looks way too happy, he thought. Like she hit a jackpot.

Disgusted and deeply uneasy, Cassius turned his jeep around. "I need to use the bathroom. You guys have fun with the politics," he muttered to himself. He drove back to his private quarters, ignoring the cheers of the Crosstown guards who thought they were welcoming saviors.

The house was eerily quiet. All of his wives, caught up in the excitement of the alliance of the century had rushed to the courtyard to receive the guests. All except Denise. She was standing in the main bedroom, walking in frantic movements.

"Is Peter insane?" she asked the moment Cassius walked in. "He’s letting a literal fire-hazard army into our home; those people are not to be trusted."

Cassius didn’t answer. He grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey from the shelf, cracked the seal, and sat by the window. He took a long swig, watching the orange glow intensify in the distance.

"Cassius! Answer me!" Denise snapped.

"I told him," Cassius said quietly. "He didn’t listen. Now we wait and see what will happen."

Back at the main hall, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of burned meat and smoke. Peter Strauss approached the Fire King with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes_ the grin of a man who thought he was the smartest person in the room.

"Fire King," Peter said, bowing slightly but keeping his voice authoritative. "Crosstown welcomes you. Feel comfortable here."

He stretched out his hand for a formal shake. The Fire King looked at the hand, then at Moon, who gave a tiny, imperceptible nod.

The Fire King took Peter’s hand. His grip was like a vise.

"Ah, good, good," Peter said, his smile faltering as the King didn’t let go. He tried to pull back, but the Fire King’s fingers tightened. "Um, Fire king? A bit firm, don’t you think?"

Then came the heat. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

It wasn’t a gradual warmth. It was a sudden, searing surge of thermal energy. Peter’s eyes widened. He looked at his hand_ it was starting to glow red. The skin was blistering instantly.

"Wait_ stop!" Peter gasped, his face contorting in agony. He looked around wildly for his guards. "Help! Guards!"

But his men were already gone. While Peter had been focused on the handshake, the pyrokinetic army had moved with surgical precision. Every one of Peter’s personal bodyguards was surrounded by three or four pyrokinetics, hands already hovering near their throats.