Cauldron did not hesitate.

  From the moment Zion vanished, their course of action was set in stone. There would be no half-measures, no quiet manipulations. This was war.

  The first to strike were Alexandria and Legend. They arrived like divine retribution, descending upon Meereen with all the force of an unstoppable hurricane. Alexandria shattered the city’s gates, ripping apart battlements and towers like paper, while Legend rained down beams of energy that turned slave masters to ash before they could even cry out.

  Then came Eidolon.

  He had selected his abilities with surgical precision. A Thinker power, ensuring absolute battlefield awareness. Two Master powers—one allowing him to break the mental chains binding the Unsullied, and the other linking togther the Case 53s into a hivemind, Eidolon at it's heart.

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  And then the floodgates opened.

  The Case 53s came forth, unleashed.

  Monstrous, terrifying, powerful—each one a living testament to the sins Cauldron had wrought upon the world. But this time, they fought with purpose. With rage. With cause.

  And they tore Meereen apart.

  At the heart of it all, Contessa and Number Man moved unseen, guiding the destruction with precision. Every path walked, every battle fought, ensured that only the slavers perished. Those who deserved death, found it. The innocent, the enslaved, the downtrodden—they were spared.

  And when the dust settled, Daenerys Targaryen stood among the wreckage.

  Not as a captive. Not as a defeated monarch forced to kneel in the dust.

  But as a Queen.

  Meanwhile, back at Cauldron's base, Coil monitored timelines, ensuring that every contingency was accounted for and the optimal ending reached. The war was won before the first blow was struck.