Apocalypse Architect: A Tower Defense LitRPG

Chapter 133: The City Burns

The Sprawl had descended into total anarchy.

Shops that weren’t boarded up were smashed open, their contents looted or burned. Corpses lined the gutters of the main thoroughfares, ignored by the desperate mobs roaming the streets.

The major families remained silent, sealed behind the high walls of the Core District. They watched the city burn with indifferent eyes, confident in their private armies and high-tier Defense Towers.

Three days had passed without a word from Redrock Bastion.

Inside the Helios Syndicate villa, Sawyer paced the floor, his anxiety nearing a breaking point.

“Butler!” Sawyer shouted, his voice cracking.

The butler appeared instantly. “Young Master?”

“Is the car ready? We can’t wait anymore. I need to see the Old Master.”

“The car is prepped, sir,” the butler said, wringing his hands. “But the streets are a war zone. We’re clearing a path, but it will take at least an hour.”

“I don’t have an hour!” Sawyer grabbed a heavy pistol from the table, checking the magazine. “If we wait any longer, the outer walls will fall, and we’ll be trapped. We leave now.”

“Sir, it’s suicide—”

“It’s suicide to stay!” Sawyer snapped, marching toward the door.

The butler sighed, pulling a submachine gun from a hidden cabinet, and followed his master.

The black armored sedan roared out of the Helios compound. The streets were eerily empty of traffic, but the sidewalks were lined with shadows—starving, desperate people watching them with predatory eyes.

The butler kept his hand on the trigger. If anyone rushed the car, he wouldn’t hesitate.

They sped through the debris-strewn streets, the reinforced suspension absorbing the impacts of rubble and scattered bodies. They cleared the Core District and approached the “Safe Passage”—a hardened evacuation tunnel controlled by the elite families.

But the entrance was a sea of humanity.

Thousands of rioters were pressed against the gates, screaming at the line of City Defense soldiers blocking their path. Behind the soldiers, a wall of razor wire and steel barricades sealed the tunnel.

“Open the gate!” someone screamed. “Let us out or we open the main doors and let the bugs in!”

“You cowards!” a woman shrieked, waving a pipe. “You hide in your towers while we die! We built those walls for you!”

“Charge them! They can’t shoot us all!”

The crowd surged forward, pressing against the wire. The soldiers stood their ground, rifles raised, faces pale. They knew the order: Hold the line. But they also knew that if they fired into the mob, the city would explode.

Sawyer’s car ground to a halt at the edge of the riot.

“Make a hole,” Sawyer ordered.

He and the butler fought their way through the mass of bodies, using their weapons to club aside anyone who wouldn’t move. Finally, they reached the checkpoint.

“I am Sawyer of the Helios Syndicate!” Sawyer shouted, flashing his ID at the captain. “Open the gate!”

The captain looked at the ID, then at Sawyer. His expression was apologetic but firm.

“I’m sorry, Young Master Sawyer. No entry or exit. Direct orders from the top.”

Sawyer froze. “What? Who ordered this? I am a direct descendant of the Sun family!”

“The order stands for everyone, sir,” the captain said, gripping his rifle. “Please return to your residence.”

“You—”

Before Sawyer could explode, a scream cut through the air.

“Burn them all!”

Sawyer looked up just in time to see a streak of fire arcing over the crowd.

“Down!” the butler tackled Sawyer, sending them both into the dirt.

FWOOSH!

A Molotov cocktail shattered against the checkpoint barricade. The captain, who had just been speaking to Sawyer, was instantly engulfed in a ball of fire.

“AAAAHHH!”

The captain flailed, a living torch, screaming as the gasoline clung to his skin. Soldiers rushed to beat out the flames with jackets, but it was too late. He collapsed, twitching, until the movement stopped.

The crowd went silent, staring at the charred corpse.

Then, panic broke.

“They killed the captain!” a soldier shouted. “Open fire!”

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Gunfire erupted. The soldiers fired into the mob. The mob returned fire with homemade pistols and rocks.

“We have to go!” the butler screamed, dragging Sawyer back toward the car. “Move!”

They scrambled back into the sedan as bullets pinged off the armored chassis. The driver slammed the car into reverse, spinning it around and tearing back toward the villa.

The city had officially fallen into civil war.

Back in the safety of his office, Sawyer listened to the distant gunfire. It didn’t stop until nightfall.

Reports piled up on his desk. The City Defense Force was conducting a brutal purge of the outer districts. The rioters were fighting back, burning entire blocks.

“Is this it?” Sawyer whispered, staring at the ceiling. “Is this the end?”

He thought of Jax.

“Where is he?” Sawyer asked. “Is he still in the city?”

“No,” the butler replied. “His villa was looted yesterday. He’s gone. Likely back at Sector 33.”

“Sector 33…” Sawyer murmured. “That valley is a death trap. If the main swarm hits him there… he doesn’t stand a chance.”

Meanwhile, in Sector 33.

Jax drove the truck deeper into the valley, the headlights cutting through the gloom. Elena and Raven sat in the back, weapons ready.

The swarm activity here was lighter than near the city, but they still encountered pockets of resistance.

“Contact left!” Raven called out.

Before Jax could even stop, Raven leaped from the moving truck. Her blade flashed, decapitating an Acid-Web Arachnid in mid-air.

“Show off,” Elena muttered. She popped out of the other side, her rifle humming. Thrum-CRACK! A second bug exploded.

The two women were in a silent competition, racing to claim kills. Raven’s physical stats, boosted by her Psionic Awakening, made her a whirlwind of steel. Elena, now Tier 3, was lethal at range, picking off targets before they could close the distance.

“Save some for the turrets,” Jax called out, slowing the truck.

He looked ahead. The valley narrowed into a sharp bend, the shadows deepening into pitch black.

“Stop,” Jax ordered, his instincts flaring. “Pull back. That corner… something’s wrong.”