Phase Three began with the truth.
At 8:03 in the morning, every major news organization received the first archive.
At 8:04, government databases began leaking.
At 8:05, Guild records appeared online.
At 8:06, Justicar operations followed.
At 8:07, villain communications joined them.
At 8:08...
The world started screaming.
None of it was fake.
That was the problem.
A Guild operation that had failed to save forty-three civilians.
A Justicar execution recorded from an angle that showed the blade falling, but not the evidence presented beforehand.
Dark Paladin executions.
Government pardons.
Villains secretly cooperating with heroes during disasters.
Heroes negotiating with villains.
District Nine payments to organizations officially designated criminal enterprises.
Malachai's invasions.
Nyxara's crimes.
Solin's relationship with her.
Captain Vale's meetings with Malachai.
Stonewall.
The Justicars.
The Guild.
The war.
Everything.
Truth without context.
Reality arranged into a weapon.
Then every screen displayed the same question.
DO YOU TRUST THEM NOW?
The first punch was thrown fourteen minutes later.
Not by anyone important.
A C-rank Guild hero named Bulwark confronted a Justicar outside a courthouse.
"You executed prisoners."
"Murderers."
"They surrendered."
"They were sentenced."
"By you."
"By evidence."
Neither noticed the crowd gathering.
Neither noticed the cameras.
Neither noticed the anonymous account repeatedly posting edited footage of their argument.
Bulwark shoved him.
The Justicar shoved back.
Someone threw a bottle.
Nobody ever determined who.
Then the street exploded.
Across the city, another fight had already begun.
A villain called Furnace tore through a police barricade after leaked Guild documents revealed that officers had secretly used his younger brother as an informant.
Three heroes intercepted him.
Flame struck concrete.
Energy shields shattered.
Cars overturned.
Two blocks away, a retired villain saw footage claiming a former hero had murdered his partner twenty years earlier.
He came out of retirement.
Elsewhere, heroes confronted heroes.
Villains confronted villains.
Old alliances became suspicious.
Old enemies suddenly possessed evidence proving they had been right all along.
Somewhere, a villain punched another villain through a noodle restaurant because leaked financial records proved he'd stolen seventeen percent of a robbery payout six years earlier.
Neither had anything whatsoever to do with Bastion.
Phase Three didn't care.
The world already possessed enough grudges.
Bastion had simply organized them.
At Justicar Headquarters, Seraph watched the feeds multiply.
"Recall everyone."
An officer looked at her.
"Commander, we have active emergencies—"
"Recall anyone not protecting civilians."
Another screen changed.
A new file appeared.
SUBJECT: FIRST FALLEN
Seraph froze.
Documents flooded the screen.
Guild reports.
Early Justicar records.
Bastion files.
Photographs.
One line appeared repeatedly.
PRIOR CONTACT CONFIRMED.
Then:
SUBJECT DEMONSTRATED KNOWLEDGE OF BASTION PROTOCOLS BEFORE RECORDED EXPOSURE.
Seraph stared.
"No."
A recruit whispered:
"He knew?"
"We don't know that."
"The documents are authentic."
Seraph turned sharply.
"Authenticity does not determine interpretation."
Then the alarms sounded.
Dark Paladins had appeared outside.
Seraph closed her eyes.
"Of course they have."
She walked outside.
The First Fallen stood in the street.
Black flames burned behind him.
Dozens of Dark Paladins waited.
Justicars emerged from headquarters.
Weapons remained lowered.
Barely.
Seraph approached.
"Tell your people to stand down."
"You first."
"They're defending headquarters."
"My people came because Bastion released records claiming you knew they altered my memories."
Seraph stopped.
"What?"
The First Fallen threw a tablet toward her.
She caught it.
Another authentic document.
Another conclusion designed like a knife.
JUSTICAR COMMAND AWARENESS: PARTIAL.
Seraph looked up.
"I've never seen this."
"I know."
That surprised her.
"You believe me?"
"I believe Bastion wants me not to."
For one moment, something familiar passed between them.
Then a young Justicar shouted.
"LIAR!"
A blast of holy energy flew.
The First Fallen moved.
His sword intercepted it.
Black flame erupted.
Dark Paladins drew weapons.
Justicars responded.
Seraph spun.
"STOP!"
Too late.
Someone fired from the Dark Paladin line.
A Justicar went down.
Nobody knew who attacked first anymore.
The street became war.
Seraph caught a Dark Paladin's blade.
"Stand down!"
"They attacked us!"
"So you're proving them right?!"
She twisted.
The sword flew away.
Seraph kicked the Paladin backward.
Behind her, two Justicars attacked the First Fallen.
He blocked both.
Black flame swept outward.
Neither died.
They flew through a wall.
"You are making this unnecessarily difficult!"
Seraph shouted.
"YOU THREW THEM THROUGH A BUILDING!"
"It was an empty building!"
"THAT IS NOT THE POINT!"
Across downtown, Solin crashed through a storefront.
He rolled across the floor.
A Dark Paladin followed.
"You protect murderers!"
Solin raised his shield.
"I protect surrender!"
Their weapons collided.
A shockwave shattered every remaining window.
Nyxara dropped through the ceiling.
Her chains wrapped around the Paladin.
"Nobody hits my boyfriend except people with prior authorization!"
Solin looked at her.
"What?"
"Not important!"
She threw the Paladin through a display rack.
Another Guild hero saw Nyxara attacking.
"VILLAIN!"
"Oh, come on."
The hero charged.
Nyxara ducked.
Solin blocked.
The hero stared at him.
"You're protecting her?!"
"She's helping me!"
"She's a wanted criminal!"
Nyxara raised one finger.
"Technically several warrants are under appeal."
"THAT DOESN'T HELP!"
The fight resumed.
Elsewhere, Furnace hurled a hero through a bus.
A hero called Starfall blasted two villains from a rooftop.
Three blocks farther south, a Justicar fought a former Guild teammate.
A shapeshifting villain transformed into a rhinoceros and charged another villain over leaked territory agreements.
A speedster hero chased a teleporting assassin through six buildings.
A retired hero and an elderly supervillain fought in the middle of a park while simultaneously arguing about an incident from 1987.
"You dropped the bridge!"
"YOU CUT THE SUPPORT!"
"BECAUSE YOU PUT BOMBS ON IT!"
"THE BOMBS WERE A DISTRACTION!"
"THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT BETTER!"
Neither noticed civilians recording them.
Across the city, friendships cracked.
Partnerships strained.
Old wounds reopened.
And Bastion deployed no soldiers.
Not one.
Far beyond the chaos, the Deceiver stared at thousands of feeds.
"No."
Information moved across the observation chamber.
The Deceiver began tracing releases.
Every document.
Every edit.
Every omission.
"They're authentic."
Another screen.
"Of course they're authentic."
The Deceiver's expression twisted with irritation.
"A lie can be disproven."
A document floated forward.
"Truth?"
The Deceiver smiled without humor.
"Truth merely needs arranging."
Then the Deceiver did something unexpected.
They interfered.
Thousands of additional files appeared online.
Full recordings.
Complete transcripts.
Missing evidence.
Unedited footage.
Context.
The Justicar execution video expanded.
The preceding trial appeared.
Victim testimony.
Evidence.
Sentence.
The Guild disaster report expanded.
It revealed heroes had remained behind until the structure collapsed around them.
Vale's meetings with Malachai gained timestamps showing they occurred during negotiations protecting civilians.
Nyxara's secret cooperation with heroes showed the people those actions had saved.
Across the world, the narrative shifted.
Not completely.
But enough.
The Deceiver leaned back.
"There."
A message appeared on the observation table.
Not from humanity.
Not from the factions.
From Bastion.
EXPECTED RESPONSE.
The Deceiver stared.
Another line appeared.
CONTEXTUAL COUNTERMEASURE INCLUDED IN MODEL.
Silence.
The Deceiver's smile disappeared.
"You predicted me."
Another message.
THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING.
The observation chamber shook.
Not physically.
The Deceiver's power did.
"Oh."
The demon stood.
"Now you've irritated me."
Back in the city, the fighting worsened.
Seraph blocked the First Fallen's sword.
He hadn't aimed for her.
She knew that.
But she was still between him and three Justicars trying to attack his people.
"ENOUGH!"
Her holy aura erupted.
The street cracked.
Justicars staggered.
Dark Paladins stumbled.
The First Fallen remained standing.
"Tell them!"
"I AM!"
"They aren't listening!"
"NEITHER ARE YOURS!"
Black fire surged.
"Mine were attacked!"
"And yours retaliated!"
"Yes!"
"THAT'S THE PROBLEM!"
A Dark Paladin flew past them.
Then a Justicar.
Then another Dark Paladin.
Both leaders watched.
The First Fallen sighed.
"This is embarrassing."
"Extremely."
They looked at one another.
"Temporary alliance?"
Seraph asked.
"Against our own people?"
"Until they stop behaving like idiots."
The First Fallen considered it.
"Acceptable."
They turned.
Seraph punched a Justicar hard enough to send him sliding across the pavement.
"STAND DOWN!"
The First Fallen caught a Dark Paladin by the cloak and threw him into a parked van.
"THE NEXT PERSON WHO ATTACKS A JUSTICAR ANSWERS TO ME!"
The Paladin groaned.
"Understood."
For approximately four seconds...
It worked.
Then something enormous crashed into the intersection.
Everyone stopped.
Dust rose.
Twelve wings unfolded.
Malachai stood in the crater.
He had been rebuilding a community center when Mara informed him the city had apparently decided to declare war on itself.
He was not pleased.
A Guild hero raised a weapon.
A Justicar raised a blade.
A Dark Paladin ignited black flame.
Malachai looked around.
"Don't."
Nobody moved.
Good.
He stepped from the crater.
Around him lay wounded heroes.
Wounded villains.
Wounded Justicars.
Wounded Dark Paladins.
Nyxara landed nearby.
Solin followed.
Vale descended from above.
The First Fallen wiped blood from his mouth.
Seraph lowered her sword.
Malachai looked from one faction to another.
"Where are they?"
Silence.
Vale understood.
"Bastion?"
Malachai nodded.
Nobody answered.
"No soldiers?"
Nothing.
"No commander?"
Nothing.
"No warship?"
Nothing.
Malachai spread his arms toward the ruined street.
"Then who exactly are you fighting?"
A Justicar looked toward a Dark Paladin.
The Dark Paladin looked away.
A Guild hero slowly lowered his weapon.
Somewhere in the distance, another explosion echoed.
Malachai pointed toward it.
"That is what they wanted."
Another explosion.
"They didn't invade."
He looked toward Seraph.
"They didn't conquer."
Then the First Fallen.
"They didn't even need to lie."
Finally Vale.
"They gave everyone reasons to hate each other..."
Malachai's eyes moved across the gathered factions.
"...and waited."
Silence spread.
One weapon lowered.
Then another.
Then another.
Solin lowered his shield.
Nyxara released her chains.
Seraph sheathed her sword.
The First Fallen extinguished his flames.
Around them, others slowly followed.
Malachai looked at the destruction.
"They didn't even have to attack us."
Far away, inside a room no one had yet located, numbers moved across a screen.
Cities.
Governments.
Hero organizations.
Villain networks.
Personal relationships.
Conflict events.
A single measurement climbed.
PHASE III — FRACTURE
7%
8%
9%
The number paused.
Then—
11%
A calm voice spoke.
"Acceptable."
Another figure asked:
"Only eleven?"
"Only?"
The Architect looked toward thousands of screens displaying battles across the world.
Heroes fighting villains.
Heroes fighting heroes.
Villains fighting villains.
Governments accusing governments.
Old allies questioning one another.
Eleven percent.
And already cities burned.
The Architect closed one file.
"We have barely begun."
Elsewhere, the Deceiver stared at the same chaos.
For once, there was no notebook.
No experiment.
No detached curiosity.
They had attempted to correct the data.
Bastion had predicted the correction.
The Deceiver slowly smiled again.
This smile was different.
"Very well."
Their eyes settled on the unseen enemy.
"You wanted to include me in your experiment."
The chamber darkened.
"Now I'm participating."
And across the city, as heroes and villains began pulling themselves from the wreckage of fights that never needed to happen...
Thousands of phones vibrated.
A new Bastion release appeared.
Not about organizations.
Not about governments.
Not about ideology.
Personal files.
Relationships.
Families.
Secrets.
Malachai looked at his phone.
Seraph looked at hers.
The First Fallen stared at his.
Vale went completely still.
Phase Three had finished testing institutions.
Now...
It was coming for the people they loved.