Before the first light of dawn could pierce the gloom, the rhythmic clang-clang-clang of metal striking stone shattered Jax’s sleep.

He groaned, rubbing the grit from his eyes, and dragged himself out of his bedroll to investigate the racket.

Down in the mining pit across from the platform, two shadows were moving with feverish intensity. Silas and Gareth.

They weren’t speaking. They were barely breathing. They were just swinging their pickaxes in a furious, alternating rhythm—swing, crunch, swing, crunch—like two machines locked in a silent, sweaty duel for dominance.

Kaleb shuffled up beside Jax, yawning and squinting into the dark.

“Is the noise bothering you, Jax? I can go down there and tell them to cool it.”

Jax waved a hand dismissively. “Let them work. How long have they been at it?”

Kaleb rubbed his chin, lacking a watch. “A while. Maybe thirty minutes? They were at it before I woke up.”

Jax checked his digital watch. 04:30 AM.

Sunrise wasn’t until six.

“Damn,” Jax muttered, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yesterday Silas didn’t drag his ass out of bed until six. Today he’s up before the roosters. What got into him?”

Annie joined them, wrapping her arms around herself against the morning chill. She pursed her lips, looking down at the pit.

“I heard Silas cornering Gareth last night,” she whispered. “He was paranoid. He thinks he’s fallen out of favor because you hired a second miner.”

She mimicked Silas’s anxious tone. “‘Don’t get in my way, new guy. Don’t make me look bad.’ And Gareth just fired back that he was going to prove his worth. They were going at it for a while.”

Jax chuckled, watching the sparks fly from the pickaxes below. “So they’ve started a turf war? I didn’t even have to say anything.”

“It’s called involution,” Kaleb noted dryly. “Competition breeds productivity.”

Jax nodded. “And the only winner here is me. If they want to break their backs to see who can mine more Energy Shards, I’m not going to stop them. Go back to bed, you two. Let the men work.”

Kaleb shook his head in disbelief and retreated to his sleeping corner. Jax stayed for a moment longer, watching the sparks dance in the dark pit. Greed was a powerful motivator, but fear of replacement was even better.

For the rest of the day, Silas and Gareth worked like men possessed by a manic energy. They barely took breaks, fueled by pure adrenaline and professional jealousy.

By the time night fell and Jax called them up, they were exhausted but triumphant.

The nightly defense mission triggered.

[System Alert: Enemy Wave Detected] [Type: Sandworm Swarm] [Reward: Stardust Stone x50]

Jax smiled when he saw the notification. “Finally. The System knows exactly what I’m missing.”

The fifty Stardust Stones were the last piece of the puzzle for the Tier 2 Fortress upgrade.

The battle itself was routine. Since no Rodent-Maw Creepers spawned, Jax didn’t bother wasting the expensive shells from the Howitzer Turret. He lit up the perimeter with Torches and let the Sentry Towers rain death upon the soft-bodied worms.

It was a massacre. Efficient, cheap, and profitable.

When the dust settled, Jax tallied the day’s mining haul.

Silas: 10 Energy Shards. Gareth: 12 Energy Shards.

The new guy had won round one.

“Gareth must have really taken that talk to heart,” Jax mused, pocketing the crystals. “Silas is going to lose his mind if he doesn’t catch up tomorrow.”

He decided not to intervene. A little cold war in the workforce was good for the bottom line.

The group gathered inside the fortress for a late dinner. Outside, the weather was turning. Thick, oppressive clouds blotted out the stars, and low thunder rolled across the wasteland. Occasional heavy drops of Black Rain splattered against the dry earth, sizzling as they vanished into the soil.

“Tomorrow morning, I’m heading to Outpost 15,” Jax announced between bites of roasted worm meat.

Gareth looked up, confused. Silas paused, his spoon hovering halfway to his mouth.

“Boss,” Silas asked, “need backup? I can come.”

Jax shook his head. “No. I’m just making a supply run. Our living quarters are getting cramped, and I need to pick up some construction materials. If too many of us go, it’ll draw attention. Barnaby will come with me to carry the heavy stuff.”

The real reason, of course, was secrecy. He needed to perform the fortress upgrade away from prying eyes. Summoning a tower was one thing; transforming the entire base was another. His team was loyal, but they were naive. Secrets were only safe when nobody else knew them.

Seeing Jax’s resolve, the team didn’t push.

The next morning, the air was thick and muggy. The humidity pressed down on them like a heated blanket.

Jax and Barnaby arrived at Outpost 15 without incident. Jax’s first stop was the market. He bought sacks of rice and flour. The team had been surviving on Sandworm meat for days, and while it was nutritious, it tasted like burnt rubber and dirt. A few carbohydrates would do wonders for morale.

With the supplies secured in his inventory space, Jax wiped sweat from his brow.

“It’s scorching today,” he muttered.

He glanced down the street and spotted a small, ramshackle shop with a faded sign: [FROSTY DELIGHTS].

Barnaby’s eyes practically glued themselves to the sign. He stared at the painted picture of an ice cream cone with the intensity of a sniper acquiring a target. But he didn’t say a word.

“Hey, Barney,” Jax nudged him. “You want some ice cream?”

Barnaby nodded enthusiastically, his massive head bobbing like a buoy. Then, remembering something, he suddenly stopped and shook his head violently.

“No! No ice cream. Too cold. Sister Annie says it rots your teeth. Bad for you.”

Jax laughed. The sight of this hulking giant acting like a scolded toddler was the definition of ‘contrast cuteness.’

“Suit yourself,” Jax teased, turning to walk away. “I was going to treat you to a feast, but if you don’t want it…”

Barnaby panicked. He lunged forward, grabbing Jax’s arm with hands the size of dinner plates.

“Wait! Sister isn’t here!” Barnaby whispered loudly, looking around conspiratorially. “We can eat a little bit. Secretly. Just don’t tell her!”

Jax grinned. “Deal.”

They walked into the shop.

Usually, this place was the domain of the elite—members of large guilds in polished armor. Ice cream was a luxury in the wasteland, a frivolous expense for the desperate.

But today, the clientele had changed. The shop was packed with members of smaller, scruffier guilds. They wore mismatched gear and patched leather, but they were laughing loud and ordering seconds.

“The Sandworm surge,” Jax realized. “Easy kills mean easy Cores. Everyone’s flush with cash.”

As Jax and Barnaby squeezed into a booth, the chatter died down. Heads turned.

Jax was a celebrity in The Sprawl now. The man with the connection to The Helios Syndicate. The rumors about him ranged from him being a Helios bastard son to a secret assassin. The gazes directed at him were a mix of envy, jealousy, and fear.

Jax ignored them, ordering two massive cones.

While Barnaby happily demolished his treat, getting vanilla cream all over his face, Jax stared out the window.

A familiar figure was arguing on the street corner.

“Isn’t that Viper?” Jax muttered. “I thought he’d be long gone by now.”

Viper looked pathetic. His uniform was stained, and his posture was slumped in a perpetual bow. He was pleading with a burly man who had a heavy spear slung across his back.

Butch. The muscle from the Iron Spear Syndicate.

“Third Brother, please!” Viper whined, bowing so low his nose almost touched his knees. “Give me a chance. I’m sincere! Let me join Iron Spear. I’ll be your dog! I’ll do anything!”

Butch picked his nose casually, flicking something away with a sneer. He looked at Viper like one might look at a roach on the sole of a boot.

“You? Join Iron Spear?” Butch scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh. Everyone knows you got kicked out of the City Defense Force for being incompetent. We don’t collect garbage.”

Viper’s face flushed a deep, humiliating crimson. He stammered, unable to find a retort.

“Now get lost,” Butch growled. “You’re blocking my sun.”

Defeated, Viper turned to slink away.

Butch glanced toward the shop, likely checking for any pretty girls, and his eyes landed squarely on Jax.

He froze. A slow, nasty grin spread across his face.

“Hey! Wait!” Butch barked.

He reached out and grabbed Viper by the scruff of his neck, hauling him back.

“Come here,” Butch whispered, his eyes never leaving Jax. “I changed my mind. I have a task for you. If you pull it off… you’re in.”