The direct attack we had!

The makeshift Great Hall at the Cancun base buzzed with heated debate. Enki's proposal to reactivate dormant human DNA strands, a heritage stolen by the Anunnaki, had divided the war council.

"It's our best chance!" Aria argued, her voice heavy with the conviction of her new magic. "If we can awaken our full potential, we might have a defense of our own, one these cosmic entities don't anticipate."

Elena Rossi and her scientific team nodded with nervous enthusiasm. "The concept of 'junk DNA' has always been a misnomer. Sequences with unknown, repressed functions! If Enki possesses any knowledge of the activation mechanisms..."

"What if we unleash something worse?" retorted an old, cautious Umbrian sorcerer, his face a mask of concern. "The arrogance of the Anunnaki set us on this path. Are we to follow their example, playing god with our very essence?"

Dracula watched with icy skepticism, while Sorcha of the Crimson Hand and Silas the Whisperer exchanged uneasy glances. Quetzal, for his part, listened with the patience of ancient stone.

"The arrogance was in defusing that potential, not in considering it," Merlin chimed in, his voice weary but firm. "However, the danger of an uncontrolled reactivation is immense. We would proceed blindly, or almost so. But," his gaze hardened, "standing still while the universe tears itself apart around us is a certainty of annihilation."

After hours of debate, a precarious consensus was reached: they would explore Enki's proposal. Under the joint supervision of Merlin, Quetzal, and Enki himself (whose loyalty remained a question mark), and with the scientific analysis of Elena's team, they would try an experimental protocol on volunteers, perhaps starting with those who already showed strong resonance with the Grid, such as Aria or Mateo. It was a desperate gamble, the largest yet.

Just as they began to discuss the first logistical steps, Enki, who had been monitoring their long-range Anunnaki communication networks, stiffened abruptly, a new, grim alarm in his golden eyes.

"The offensive has begun in deep space," he announced, his voice slicing through the air. "The combined fleets of Cthulhu and the Luciferian Netlins, as Morgana identified them, are executing a coordinated and massive assault."

He projected shaky, distorted images onto the central holomap: vast expanses of space illuminated by energy blasts that dwarfed suns. Biomechanical swarms and vessels of impossible geometry descended upon scattered formations of reptilian, Gray, and insectoid vessels.

"They're attacking the Lyran factions that rebelled, the ones that tried to contact us," Enki explained gravely. "It's a purge. Systematic. Brutal. The Saurians are being outflanked and decimated near the rings of Saturn. The major Insectoid hives in the asteroid belt are being bombarded with antimatter weapons. The Gray ships, outnumbered and outgunned, are being hunted down one by one near Jupiter."

A dead silence fell over the room. Any hope that these alien factions could offer meaningful resistance, or even a prolonged distraction for Cthulhu and his Netlin allies, was fading before their eyes.

"They're... sweeping them away," Kaelen whispered in horror.

"It's a show of power," Merlin said, his face a stone mask. "A message to anyone in this solar system who still harbors thoughts of defiance. Including us. Including Amitiel, if her Netlin faction is truly independent."

As the scale of the space carnage began to sink in, the base in Cancún itself was rocked by a new and violent wave of psychic pressure. This time, it wasn't the constant, nauseating presence of Cthulhu, but something sharper, more focused, like the gaze of a predator that has finally located its prey.

The "Coherence Anchor" creaked under the strain, the emergency lights flickered, and the most sensitive members of the group fell to their knees, clutching their heads.

Aria screamed, the emerald and gold light around her flickering erratically. "He's here! Not just his influence, him! I can feel his mind... vast, cold, hungry... focusing... ON US!"

Outside, the Caribbean Sea, visible through the reinforced windows, began to churn with unnatural violence. Giant waves crashed against the shore, and a sickly greenish glow emanated from the depths, tinting the storm clouds swirling over Cancún. The air itself seemed to vibrate with a nerve-racking frequency.

"The direct attack we feared!" roared Quetzal, his staff glowing with earthly energy. "The attack has arrived!"

Time to weave that shield of spirit, or perish!"

The decision about the DNA would have to wait. The mad god of the abyss had finished his puppet show and was now coming to claim his prize in person. The fragile hope of respite had been shattered. The final battle for Cancún, and perhaps for the sanity of the planet, was about to begin.