The land blanketed in swirling pink smoke, was a scarred graveyard. The air shimmered with radiation and decay, the scent a choking blend of scorched metal and electric rot. Twisted pillars of metal jutted out of the ground like the ribs of fallen titans. Streets had long since been swallowed by ash. The skeletons of ancient towers stood fractured, leaning like drunks too tired to collapse, coated in moss that fed on toxins instead of sunlight.
This was El Territory, a large piece of land on Deer Point corrupted by Bacteria Monsters known as Els. These creatures serve one purpose and that is to corrupt everything. Their goal is to corrupt the entire Deer Point.
The El territoy is place where a brutal, unending war had devoured all sense of time. There were no days here, only battles. No seasons, only shifts in death's strategy.
The El Bacteria swarmed prtecting their territory.
Towering above the chaos, military mechs and Robots on the side of the king groaning beasts of alloy and fire marched with monstrous rhythm. Each step they took cracked the fractured soil, sending echoes deep into the abyss. Glowing red eyes blinked behind steel masks, scanning for the squirming signatures of their prey.
From elongated weapon ports, spear-like charges erupted, cutting through the murk like lightning bolts. They struck the ground with thunderous impact, skewering the Els, bacteria monsters that moved like tumors with teeth, reshaping themselves every second, never still, never dying easy.
Their stood a golden mech YEEVEL. Its Metal shaped form shined like the burning sun admists the darkness of El Territory.
France spoke through the com of his Mech "I am France of the Royal Gamma branch and the most beautiful man on earth. I shall pass judgemeant on you vile creatures in the name of King. Mr. Green!"
The battlefield was a violent heartbeat. Clangs of metal against mutant flesh, shrieks of mechanized pain, the rupturing of blighted skin these sounds became a twisted symphony. Explosions erupted like flowers of fire, staining the dark sky in reds and yellows before fading back into the twilight. Some robots and mechs fell, dragged down by swarms of Els. Others pushed forward, desperate, unrelenting. There was no victory here only survival by inches.
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Another large Mech sliced through several Els, BORGUS.
A voice spke from inside the massive meachine.
"I am Dakota, of the Royal Gamma branch and I am the Kings executioner."
Life in the Zoner Territories
Away from the frontlines, deep within the outer circles of the Zoner Territories, lay a quieter, crueler war: the war to simply exist.
Here, among the cracks of society, poverty dripped from every corner like oil. Children with ribs sharp as blades lay in alleyways, their eyes wide and haunted, watching machines deliver flavorless gruel with mechanical precision. The converter units, rusted and humming with apathy, churned out thin gray porridge in exact, unfeeling scoops. No extras. No mercy.
Families scavenged the crumbled streets, digging through rubble with bare hands. Some found scraps—bits of twisted plastic, shredded wire, forgotten tech. These were currency. Not for comfort, but for ration points, traded in to the machines for survival.
People didn't look at each other anymore. Eyes stayed low, dull and glassy, shoulders curled inward like the world had beaten them one too many times. Conversations were whispers. Laughter hadn't lived here in years. Only one word traveled from mouth to mouth with any consistency:
"Northberry."
A name. A myth. A child with fire in his blood and a power that might break this cycle. They had never seen him. But the hope that he existed, that maybe someone still cared, was enough to keep some from giving up completely.
The King's Chilling Vision
Far from the war within the Royal territory stood the kings tower, in the tower, sat a man with no soul.
King Mr. Green.'
He sat alone in his throne chamber, surrounded by panels of light and steel, the room humming like a heartbeat held in a chokehold. Walls of chrome reflected a man dressed immaculately—white suit, green tie, matching gloves with no blemish. His posture? Elegant. His expression? Serenely monstrous.
He leaned forward toward a glowing blue microphone embedded into his console. His voice, soft but resonant, filled the sterile space like a drip of poison in water.
"Balance maintained."
The words left his lips with the satisfaction of someone not observing a war but conducting it.
In front of him, a multi-tiered holographic map shimmered like a pool of blood and lightning. Red markers, Els, swarmed across the terrain like fire ants. Blue lights, mech units, pushed back in coordinated waves. It was a digital dance of death, choreographed to the rhythm of his commands.
He did not blink. He did not flinch. He merely watched.
A new screen lit up beside the map, unveiling the warped, shifting visage of another.
Igris King of the Surface, or at least, what passed for royalty beneath the sky.
Igris looked down on King Mr. Green as if God-like.
"Of course I will, King Mr. Green," he growled, voice gravel wrapped in silk. "More mechs, more steel. All I ask... is that you bring the Skylands down to the surface. The Barrakudo are hungry. They grow impatient."
Mr. Green's smile didn't falter. If anything, it widened, pulling the corners of his lips into something just this side of human.
"That is all I desire, Igris. A world united. No borders. No filth. No rebellion. Just... order."
He adjusted his gloves with care, then turned to address the council of cloaked figures behind him silent shadows that never moved, never spoke, but always listened.
"This war is not chaos. It is a crucible. Let the weak burn. Let the ground bleed. What emerges will be perfect. Cleansed. Pure."
The screen with Igris flickered again. His grin widened, teeth like broken glass.
"Your throne awaits you," Igris rasped, before vanishing into static.
And just like that, King Mr. Green was alone again.
His hand closed into a fist.
The room returned to silence. And far below, in the smoke, the war carried on... unaware that the true monster had already claimed the sky.