God-Tier Sniper's Interstellar Execution

Nyx stared at the terminal screen, completely paralyzed.

Her mind, usually capable of processing thousands of lines of high-level code in a millisecond, completely flatlined.

The man looking back at her was a living nightmare, drenched in ten years of subterranean filth and dried blood.

His silver eyes were colder than liquid nitrogen, devoid of any human warmth.

A massive, brutal eighty-pound heavy-repeater crossbow was slung over his back.

Right next to it rested a completely melted, ruined Vanguard MK-IV anti-materiel sniper rifle, a weapon that shouldn't even exist anymore.

He looked like a demon that had just slaughtered his way out of the deepest pit of a mass grave.

But Nyx didn't need a database to recognize him.

She had stared at the fifty-foot marble statues in the Central Plaza every single day of her life.

She knew that ruthless jawline. She knew those piercing, god-like eyes.

"Kaelen... Cross?" Nyx breathed, her voice trembling violently against her headset.

"No. That's bullshit. The Phantom Vanguard died ten years ago. The High Council witnessed his fall into the Abyssal Rift."

"Thorne pushed me."

A gravelly, destroyed voice echoed from her desktop speakers, vibrating the very glass on her desk.

Nyx flinched, a cold sweat breaking out across her spine.

The voice didn't sound human. It sounded like grinding tectonic plates and crushed glass.

"I don't have time to convince a tech-brat that I'm real," Kaelen said, leaning closer to the terminal camera down in the Abyss.

"I'm sitting at the Mid-Level Checkpoint in Sector 4. I need the biometric gates open, and I need the automated plasma turrets shut down. Now."

Nyx's fingers hovered over her mechanical keyboard, freezing entirely.

She was talking to a ghost.

A violently angry, heavily armed, vengeful ghost who had just returned from hell.

But as her eyes frantically scanned the terminal feed, she noticed something completely anomalous.

Scrolling at a demonic speed down the right side of Kaelen's video feed was an encrypted, floating chat box.

It wasn't human text. It was written in a cosmic, radiant script that forced her system's translation software into absolute overdrive just to render it into readable English.

[User 'Star_Dust_69': Look at the primitive human girl! She looks completely terrified, lmao!]

[User 'Zark': Hahaha! He just hijacked a random mortal's secure network! This stream is already PEAK entertainment!]

[User 'DragonBoredom': Do not break her fragile brain, Kaelen. We still need her fingers to open the gate.]

[User 'Lover_9000': Damn, the tech girl is kind of cute though.]

[User 'Void_Walker': Quiet, you degenerates. The Constellations are watching. Let the Vanguard cook.]

Nyx's eyes widened in absolute, staggering horror as the alien text continued to refresh at a blinding speed.

"What... what the fuck is that chat?!" Nyx stammered, her finger trembling violently as she pointed at her monitor.

"Who is DragonBoredom? Are you... are you fucking live-streaming to goddamn aliens?!"

Kaelen let out a dark, raspy chuckle that sounded like a coffin lid scraping open in an empty graveyard.

"The universe was bored," Kaelen replied, his tone chillingly casual. "And I needed funding. Now, listen to me very closely."

Kaelen's silver eyes locked dead onto the camera lens.

The sheer, predatory weight of his gaze bled right through the screen, making Nyx feel like a cornered rabbit being targeted by an apex hunter.

"I've been rotting in the dark for ten years. Marcus Thorne took my life. He stole my glory. He built an empire on my corpse."

He paused, his eyes scanning the cramped, messy background of her room through the hijacked feed.

"And from what I can tell by the state of your miserable, rundown apartment, he took a lot from you, too."

Nyx swallowed hard, the bitter truth choking her.

"I am going to climb out of this fucking hole," Kaelen whispered, his voice dripping with an absolute, suffocating malice.

"And I am going to put a titanium bolt directly through Marcus's skull."

[User Sword_Simp: OHHHHH! HE SAID THE LINE!]

[User Blood_Shedder: The protagonist's eyes are glowing! The revenge arc is finally starting!!]

This book was originally published on NovelFire. Check it out there for the real experience.

[User Galaxy_Brain: A mortal trying to assassinate a Peak S-Rank Ruler? Delicious. Take my coins!]

[User MilfHunter_69: Forget the ruler, look at the tech girl. Step on me mommy!]

[User Void_Walker: Quiet, you degenerates. The Constellations are watching. Let the Vanguard cook.]

[System: User Galaxy_Brain has sponsored 500 Cosmic Sparks!]

[System: The Constellation The One Who Watches from the Abyss is narrowingly observing your resolve!]

The notifications flashed across the screen, bathed in a celestial gold light.

Nyx's heart hammered violently against her ribs.

This wasn't a trick, and it definitely wasn't some high-level deepfake.

The raw, suffocating aura of hatred radiating through the monitor was entirely, terrifyingly real.

"If I open those biometric gates..." Nyx said slowly, her survival instincts and hacker brains finally snapping back into place.

"What do I get out of this? Aside from instantly becoming an accessory to the assassination of an S-Rank Guildmaster?"

"Look at your terminal," Kaelen said, tapping a sleek, glowing device hooked into the local terminal down in the Abyss.

"You're currently connected to a Dimensional Splicer. It's a literal bridge to the cosmic network."

He leaned in, the silver in his eyes flashing with dangerous intent.

"Once I'm through that gate, I'll sever the physical connection on my end, but I'll leave the Splicer permanently plugged into their mainframe."

Nyx gasped, her breath catching squarely in her throat.

"You'll have completely unrestricted, backdoor access to the Interstellar Overseer Network's public databases," Kaelen offered, a cold smirk playing on his cracked lips.

"Alien tech. Cosmic source code. Unknown magic algorithms. Do this, and you'll become a god on Earth's net."

Nyx didn't even hesitate.

She absolutely despised Marcus Thorne with every fiber of her being.

She had spent her entire youth trying to tear his corrupt empire down brick by miserable brick, only to meet a brick wall every time.

And now, the ghost of the universe had just handed her a nuclear bulldozer.

"Give me thirty seconds," Nyx smirked, a dangerous, manic spark igniting in her eyes as she cracked her knuckles.

Her hands slammed onto the keyboard like a concert pianist executing a masterpiece.

She wasn't trying to hack the Vanguard ICE from the outside anymore.

Kaelen had just handed her a direct, physical hardline straight into the belly of the internal network.

She tore through the heavily encrypted defense protocols like a searing hot knife through cheap butter.

Access Granted.

◇ ◇ ◇

Down in the Abyssal Rift, Kael watched the heavy Vanguard terminal flash green.

CLANG.

A massive, deafening metallic thud echoed through the massive cavern.

The fifty-foot titanium blast doors groaned, ancient hydraulic pistons hissing as they slowly began to pull apart.

The glowing red laser sights of the six automated Vanguard turrets flickered, sputtered, and died.

"Good girl," Vespera purred in Kael's ear, a hint of genuine impressed amusement in her demonic voice.

Kael reached down to the terminal and typed a quick message on the keyboard.

"I need one more favor, Nyx."

◇ ◇ ◇

Up on the surface, the world was completely oblivious to the monster climbing out of the dark.

The Aegis Spire, a colossal skyscraper that pierced the clouds as the headquarters of the Vanguard Guild, was currently the brightest beacon in Neo-Edo.

Tonight was the Tenth Anniversary of the end of the Dimensional Merge.

Inside the Grand Hall on the hundredth floor, a massive gala was in full swing, radiating a sickening display of absolute opulence.

The vaulted ceilings were draped in enchanted, glowing cosmos-silk that simulated a flawless, sparkling starry night.

Waiters in tailored suits carried trays of crystal flutes filled with mana-infused champagne that cost more than a slum resident could earn in a lifetime.

The room was packed with thousands of the world's most elite individuals, A-Rank Hunters, corporate CEOs, corrupt politicians, and heavily armored high-tier bodyguards.

Standing on a massive white marble stage at the front of the hall was Marcus Thorne.

He looked exactly like a savior was supposed to look.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, with perfectly styled golden hair and a warm, magnetic smile that could disarm anyone.

He wore a pristine suit tailored from white arachnid-silk, radiating a faint, comforting golden aura that marked his terrifying status as an S-Rank Paladin.

Behind him, a colossal fifty-foot digital Jumbotron displayed a high-definition, looping montage of the Vanguard Guild's greatest victories.

Marcus tapped his crystal glass with a silver spoon.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

The ambient chatter of the gala instantly died down as thousands of elite eyes turned toward their Golden King.

Marcus smiled, his eyes crinkling with perfectly practiced humility.

"My friends," Marcus's deep, resonant voice boomed through the hall's flawless acoustic system. "Ten years ago today, we stood on the absolute edge of extinction."

The crowd murmured in solemn, heavy agreement.

"The Abyss opened its jaws to swallow our world," Marcus continued, pacing slowly across the stage, a look of profound sorrow crossing his handsome face. "We fought. We bled. We lost so many good men and women."

Marcus paused, lowering his head in a perfect display of mourning.

"But no loss was greater than my brother-in-arms. Kaelen Cross."

A collective, sympathetic sigh rippled through the audience.

Marcus placed a hand over his heart, looking up at the simulated sky.

"He was the Phantom Vanguard. He was the shield that protected us while we rebuilt. He gave his life, plunging into the Abyssal Rift so that we could see the sun again."

Marcus looked back at the crowd, a single, perfectly timed tear glistening in his eye.

"I think about him every single day. I carry the weight of his sacrifice on my shoulders. I only wish... I only wish he were here today to see the paradise we have built in his honor."

The crowd erupted into thunderous, emotional applause.

People wiped their eyes as corporate elites nodded in profound respect.

Marcus smiled warmly, bowing his head to accept the adoration of the masses.

It was perfect; his PR team was going to have a field day with this speech.

But as Marcus raised his head, the lights in the Grand Hall suddenly flickered violently.

BZZZZZT!

A deafening, ear-piercing shriek of electronic feedback blasted through the massive speakers, causing thousands of people to cry out and cover their ears.

The crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling violently exploded into thousands of pieces, showering the screaming crowd in glass.

"Security!" Marcus roared, his golden S-Rank aura flaring to life as he instantly drew a beautiful, enchanted broadsword from his spatial ring. "Protect the guests!"

But this wasn't a physical attack.

Behind Marcus, the fifty-foot digital Jumbotron violently glitched, the screen cracking into static lines.

The looping montage of Vanguard victories was completely erased from existence.

It was replaced by a live video feed, the resolution perfect, enhanced by a Dimensional Network Splicer.

Every single person in the room stopped screaming.

They froze, their eyes locked onto the massive screen in absolute disbelief.

The face towering over the gala was caked in mud, dried blood, and decade-old subterranean grime.

His hair was matted and long, his jawline covered in a thick, ragged beard.

But his eyes... those terrifying, piercing silver eyes were completely unmistakable.

[User Sword_Simp: LIVE FROM THE ABYSS! THE PHANTOM VANGUARD IS BACK, BITCHES!]

[User Blood_Shedder: Look at Marcus's face! Oh my god, he's shitting his pants live on TV!]

[User Galaxy_Brain: The constellations are throwing down sponsorships! The hype is unreal!]

[System: The Constellation The One Who Watches from the Abyss is grinning widely at the stage!]

Marcus Thorne dropped his enchanted broadsword.

Clang.

The weapon hit the marble floor, echoing loudly in the dead silence.

Marcus staggered backward, his golden aura violently flickering out as the color completely drained from his face.

He looked like a man who had just seen the devil himself rise from the floorboards.

"K-Kaelen?" Marcus whispered, his charismatic voice cracking into a pathetic, terrified squeak.

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