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chapter 35:the fall of machinist

chapter 35:the fall of machinist

Chapter 35: The Fall of the Machinist

The world exhaled in unison when the news broke. A figure of nightmares, a shadow lurking in every corner, was finally gone. The Machinist, feared by all, was confirmed dead. His reign of terror had lasted longer than anyone had hoped, and now, in an instant, it was over.

Across the city, relief rippled through the streets. People who had once cowered in fear of the relentless killings felt a weight lift from their shoulders. News stations broadcasted the event, but the truth was twisted. They said he was only a killer of children, as if that alone could explain the years of bloodshed he'd caused. The media, with their sensational headlines, missed the larger picture entirely.

In the quiet corners of the city, families wept—not in sorrow, but in release. Fathers pulled their children close, mothers hugged their loved ones, and communities gathered in celebration. The night, once feared, now felt safe again. Children, once too frightened to play after dark, ran through the streets, their laughter filling the air like music. The streets were alive with cheers. The terror was over.

Yet, for all the relief, there were questions. Who had killed the Machinist?

Akuma watched the broadcast in the dim light of his hideout. The flickering screen showed the world celebrating, the death of his greatest adversary now a public spectacle. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but his eyes remained cold, calculating. The Machinist's death was an inevitability. Akuma had planned it long ago, and now it was time to move forward. The world believed his death was a victory, but for Akuma, it was just another step in his carefully laid plan.

In the shadows, the remnants of the Tori no Ichizoku clan regrouped. The death of their leader had scattered them, but now they were coming together once again. The old guard, angry and disillusioned, gathered in secret, speaking in hushed tones. "The Machinist may be dead, but his dream doesn't end with him," one of them muttered, a promise in his voice. They would carry on his legacy, no matter the cost.

Ray, Maya, Kaizen, and Michael sat in the dimly lit room, watching the news unfold. The celebrations echoed in the streets outside, but their minds were clouded with suspicion. "Who killed him?" Ray asked, his voice laced with curiosity. "Someone had to be behind this."

Ray looked over at the others, his brow furrowed. "But who would kill the Machinist, Deimos?"

Michael shifted, his eyes narrowing in thought. "That sounds like a possibility, given Deimos injured him at the warehouse."

Maya leaned forward, a thoughtful expression on her face. "So, the demon that blessed us with regeneration—the one who saved us—killed the Machinist?"

Kaizen was the first to speak up, his tone firm. "Had to be Deimos. No one else would have had the chance before any of us."

Kaizen's brow furrowed, eyes narrowing. "It wasn't just anyone. Whoever did it... they're dangerous." His words hung in the air, a warning that the death of the Machinist was just the beginning.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Maya's lips tightened in thought. "Someone had the power to take him down, and that kind of power doesn't come without consequences."

Michael leaned back, his arms crossed. "Whoever it was, they're still out there. And they'll have to deal with the aftermath."

The celebration in the streets continued, but it felt hollow to them. The death of the Machinist had brought them no peace, only more questions. Who was responsible? What did it mean for the future? And, most importantly, who was going to step up to fill the void left behind?

In the distance, across the world, the Tori no Ichizoku clan was already reassembling, their fury stronger than ever. Akuma, too, was making his move, his plans unfolding like a carefully crafted web. The Machinist's death had shattered a piece of the world, but it had also created a power vacuum—one that would bring only more bloodshed.

As the celebrations raged on, the true danger was just beginning to take shape.

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Akuma, with his usual cold efficiency, gave the order without hesitation. The remnants of the Tori no Ichizoku clan, now under his command, were to begin a full-scale assault on Los Angeles. His voice, steady and firm, rang out through secure communication channels:

"All units, commence the assault. Leave nothing standing."

Within minutes, the city's skyline was lit up by explosions. Hundreds of thousands of soldiers—trained and ruthless—descended upon Los Angeles with overwhelming force. The chaos was immediate. Buildings crumbled, fires raged, and the air was thick with the sounds of gunfire and screams. The Tori no Ichizoku clan had begun its reign of terror once again.

But despite the sheer scale of the attack, something was different this time. The precision and coordination that had defined their previous campaigns were gone. The absence of the Machinist was felt deeply. His strategic genius, his cold and calculating mind that had once directed the chaos with precision, was no longer present. What had once been a well-oiled machine of destruction was now a disjointed force—each faction fighting its own battle, creating pockets of disorder and disarray.

Akuma watched from a distance as his forces rampaged through the city, his eyes scanning the chaos. He could feel the loss of the Machinist's control, the way the clan's movements faltered and lost cohesion. The plan had been simple: destroy the city, break its spirit, and leave the world in fear. But without the Machinist's guiding hand, things were slipping.

Even as they crushed buildings and terrorized civilians, there was no clear strategy. Raids were haphazard, skirmishes breaking out without any real purpose. The power vacuum left by the Machinist's death was being felt in every corner of the battlefield.

Akuma clenched his fists. The chaos, though useful for now, would eventually be unsustainable. The Machinist had been more than just an adversary—he had been a tool, a necessary component of Akuma's larger plan. Now, with him gone, Akuma was left to pick up the pieces. He would have to guide this destruction in a new direction, or else it would all crumble.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the chaos, the Tori no Ichizoku soldiers tore through the city streets. Their weapons blazed, but the usual methodical violence was replaced by a reckless fury. It wasn't just destruction now—it was a desperate attempt to reclaim control. The streets of Los Angeles became a battleground between those who were meant to serve a greater cause and those who were merely trying to survive the storm.

Akuma, watching from afar, knew that this would not last. The world was in turmoil, but the pieces were starting to fall apart. The Machinist’s death had cracked the foundation, and the future was uncertain. The power vacuum would create more chaos before the dust settled. He wasn’t just losing control; he was preparing for something much more dangerous. In the vacuum of leadership, others would rise. And the battle for dominance would only escalate from here.

And in the midst of all this, Akuma knew—this was just the beginning.