The sky above Galactic Wall Street turned pitch-black in the middle of the afternoon.
It was not a storm, nor was it a natural eclipse.
One hundred thousand colossal war-dreadnoughts warped out of the private orbital drydocks of Vault #6. Each warship was fifty kilometers long, coated in spiked black asteroid armor and jagged adamantine rams. Along their curved hulls, millions of glowing red runes pulsed with dark energy.
Deep within their bilges, demonic debt-furnaces burned with terrifying fury.
This was the feared Galactic Repo Armada, the iron fist of the Debtor-Slaver Vault. For fifty thousand years, this fleet had crushed slave rebellions, glassed defaulting planets, and dragged entire civilizations into debtor chains. The mere silhouette of a single dreadnought was enough to force an entire star system to its knees.
At the center of the formation hovered the flagship, the Abyssal Foreclosure.
General Xue Sha stood on the command bridge, leaning over the holographic tactical pit. He was a towering warrior clad in blood-red dragon scales, with a jagged scar running across his nose. Behind him stood thirty vice-admirals, every single one of them a Half-Step Dao-Ancestor with hundreds of planetary conquests to their names.
“All one hundred thousand vessels report full battle readiness, General!” the chief tactical officer reported, his voice shaking with violent excitement. “Planet-cracking anti-matter cannons are charged to one hundred percent! Dark-matter soul-shattering torpedoes are armed in the tubes!”
