**TITLE: Doomsday Rebirth 464**
**Chapter 464: The Killing Blow**
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Seated at a distance from Andrew, Caroline and Tyler exchanged glances, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension.
Caroline, with a casual flick of her wrist, retrieved two bags of nuts from her storage space. She handed one to Tyler, who accepted it with a nod of gratitude, and opened the other for herself, the crinkling of the bag punctuating the silence. As she munched on the crunchy snacks, her gaze remained fixed on Andrew. “So, according to your own assessment, you now consider yourself the most formidable commander of Hornvale, correct? If that’s the case, let’s engage in a proper discussion. You need to determine what kind of compensation you’re willing to offer us to ensure the safety of your men—and your own life.”
Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the weight of Caroline’s words pressing down on him like a heavy fog.
“Commander Zimmer, there’s no need for haste. Take your time to consider your options. After all, your lives hold considerable value,” Caroline added nonchalantly, her tone deceptively light.
A sudden wave of pressure enveloped Andrew, more intense than when Caroline had first stormed into the room.
What is happening? This is merely a negotiation—but why does she seem even more terrifying now?
As if on cue, Francis and Nathaniel arrived, stepping into a scene that was both bizarre and unsettling.
The office floor was littered with crumbs, remnants of Caroline and Tyler’s casual snacking. They were at ease, one hand occupied with food while the other petted the dogs at their feet, occasionally pausing to toss a few seeds to the small birds perched nearby. Their laughter echoed as if they were in the comfort of their own home, completely unfazed by the chaos surrounding them.
In stark contrast, the room was filled with soldiers, frozen in place against the walls, their bodies rigid and unyielding. Their heads hung low, each man trying to blend into the shadows, as if wishing to disappear entirely, like phantoms in the night. Some bore the marks of their struggle, blood seeping from their hands and feet, frozen into the ice that held them captive.
Outside, the sun blazed relentlessly, but within the confines of the office, a chilling cold permeated the air, almost unbearable. A few brave civilians had even dragged stools to the doorway, seeking refuge from the heat and reveling in the unnatural chill.
The scene was surreal, almost cinematic in its absurdity.
Yet, the most astonishing sight of all was Andrew himself.
He occupied Francis’s favorite chair, directly facing Caroline and Tyler, a position that once would have exuded authority. Now, however, he was no longer physically restrained; Tyler had removed the metallic threads that had bound him. Still, Raven loomed nearby, eyes fixed on Andrew with a predatory intensity, ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of rebellion.
It was a testament to Raven’s newfound capabilities, a stark reminder of how the balance of power had shifted.

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