Back at the warehouse dozens of guards were stationed outside the compound. Each handling futuristic firearms; the latest technology in modern warfare.
The walls were high and built out of blast proof concrete, covered with electric barb wires. It encompassed an area of three acres in total, with CCTV cameras at every corner.
The warehouse itself is a large, weathered building in the center of the city, with rusted metal walls and faded signage. The reinforced doors are heavy and secure, flanked by two guards who ensure no unwanted visitors enter.
This was further assured by the exosuits they both wore. The X-17 Assault Exosuit model; the most versatile battle suit offered by (Data Innovations and Advanced Logistics Operations Business).
Inside, the warehouse has been repurposed into a functional base. The expansive interior is divided into sections by makeshift walls of crates, creating a set of rooms and corridors. At the center is an elevator shaft, leading down to the main meeting area where the boss is.
As Zeke approaches, he shows his wrist. A strange symbol flashes on top of it as the elevator scanner verifies him.
"Common kid, let's go meet the boss."
In a few moments they arrive.
The room is stark and practical, with exposed metal beams and concrete floors. A large wooden table sits in the middle, surrounded by a mix of chairs. The lighting is minimal, with a single hanging bulb illuminating the table. Metal shelves along the walls hold crates, weapons, and other supplies, all neatly arranged.
The atmosphere is tense and serious, a place of utmost importance. As Zeke steps inside, his footsteps reverberate across the room.
Sitting at the table is a man with dark-blue hair, meticulously styled, and a goatee that sharpens his features. His skin is pale, almost ghostly, contrasting with the deep-blue intensity of his eyes, which seem to pierce through the dim light. He is dressed in a plain white suit, but beneath it, a crimson inner vest adds a splash of color, adorned with gold buttons that gleam ceaselessly.
He sat there, legs crossed, and hands interlocked, a figure of unsettling calm amid the shadows that flickered from the dim light above.
"Well, hello Zeke." He said softly, his voice dripping with a sinister undertone.
"Sir." Raymond greeted, bowing his head.
Zeke's gaze hardened, his eye narrowing with palpable disdain.
"Do I need to remind you who the hell I am?" The man's voice cut through the silence like a knife.
The words agitated Zeke, his composure shattered as he snapped, lunging forward to grab the boss by the collar. With a vicious snarl, he dragged the man across the table.
"You're nothing to me! Get that through your thick skull!" Zeke hissed, his voice a low growl of barely contained rage.
Two men, clad in the R-5 Recon exosuits, stepped forward from the shadows. Their presence was ghostly, almost as if they had materialized from the darkness itself. The stealth suits whispered as they moved, and their guns, sleek and deadly, locked onto Zeke's skull with eerie precision.
Raymond, ever loyal, drew his own pistol, the metallic click echoing in the tense air. His hand was steady, his eyes cold.
"Boss?" He asked, seeking permission with a voice as cold as the grave.
"Hmph!" Zeke grunted, releasing his grip on the boss's collar. The tension in the room ebbed, though the atmosphere remained thick with malice.
"Now then." He said, his tone a forced calm as he readjusted his disheveled suit.
"What's this I hear of a potential attack?" His voice carrying itself with esteem.
"We believe a superhuman has made us their target."
This revelation stirred a flicker of intrigue in his eyes, though his voice remained as composed as ever.
"Oh, really now?" He inquired, the smoothness of his tone belied by the gravity of the subject.
"It'd do you well to take this seriously, Angelo." Zeke's warned, his patience thinning.
"Hmm." Angelo's response was dismissive, his gaze distant and indifferent.
"There are only two men on the planet we should fear." Angelo continued, his voice dropping to a grave whisper.
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle.
"And as long as you didn't piss off the Stellar or the Cult head, there isn't a man alive we can't kill." His grin was a cold sliver of satisfaction, devoid of warmth.
"Well then, you do as you please. If we die, the blame will be on your head." Zeke's words dripped with finality, his smile lingering as the shadows seemed to close in.
"Is this the place?" Sasha asked.
{Yes, this is their base of operations}
She let go of the bottom, falling to ground and rolling to the side of the limo. Quickly noticing the number of security cameras, she endeavors to stay out of view.
Deciding to finish this before anyone notices. Getting into starting position, she crouches low, poised with one knee digging into the ground. Her body is taut, muscles coiled like a spring, while her fingers grip the ground. In an instant he body explodes with divine energy.
Passing through the compound gates with ease, she notices something amiss. An electric field discharges as she passes through it.
"Huh?"
Alarms ring all over, signaling the arrival of an intruder. Security forces deploy in mass, coordinated movements, wielding weapons of the highest quality.
Sasha was frozen in place, the size of the defense paralyzing her with fear.
{54 combatants detected}
Equipped with not just the X-17, but also the S-9 Shadow. A suit designed to reach speeds of Mach 3.
Following that, swarms of drones deployed into the air. Particularly the 9th generation of the K series. Another one of the products of DIALOB industries, the kings of modern warfare.
She stands still for a brief moment, a golden glow envelopes her body, revealing herself to be clad in a sleek, form-fitting suit. The super suit, crafted from deep red leather, hugged the speedster's form with precision. Black metallic panels were integrated throughout as protection, while gold traced the seams of the suit. The gloves, black, featured golden knuckle guards. The boots, were also black, extending to her calf.
Her eyes scanned the environment, every detail seared into memory.
The soldiers move in a tight formation, their HUDs displaying real-time data, including the Sasha's potential trajectories.
"Hmm, I like this outfit. Hope you guys don't end up ruining it."
With a sudden burst of speed, she disappears from sight, a sonic boom echoing through the land as she launches herself forward. The ground beneath her feet cracks, dust billowing into the air. Her movement is almost instantaneous, but as she closes in on the exosuit squad, her perception of time falters, not being able to keep up with her own speed. The world appears to crawl, but the soldiers' movements are somehow faster than what she can comfortably track.
The first strike is a blur—a powerful kick aimed at the nearest soldier. The exosuit registers the incoming attack, its sensors whining as it boosts the soldier's speed just in time to block. The her foot connects with a metallic forearm, the impact rippling through both combatants. The exosuit's reinforced armor absorbs most of the blow, but the force is enough to send the soldier skidding back, leaving deep gouges in the concrete.
In response, the others engage their thrusters, boosting them to Mach 3. The air crackles with the intensity of their speed, creating shockwaves that ripple outward. The soldiers fan out, encircling Sasha, their movements a symphony of coordinated blurs. She's struggling to keep up, her perception is lagging just enough to make every dodge feel desperate, every counterattack a fraction too slow. Even though she is more than fast enough.
The air around them becomes a chaotic battleground of sonic booms and concussive blasts. Sasha twists and turns, narrowly avoiding a barrage of bullets that shred the ground where she stood moments ago. Each projectile is a streak of silver in her vision, moving just beyond the limits of her comprehension. She pivots, driving an elbow into the chest plate of another soldier, denting the armor, but before she can follow up, the exosuit retaliates with a punch that sends the speedster flying through the air.
Sasha crashes through the compound wall, debris cascading around her.
"U-Ug-h!"
Barely having time to register the pain before she's up on feet again, sprinting out of the collapsing structure just as it crumbles down behind her.
"Dammit!" She stops to catch her breath.
{Not only are you outnumbered, but you're also unable to perceive them}
'You're right. How do I get outta this mess?'
{If I told you everything you'd never grow}
'In that case, I think I've got a plan'
With a burst of acceleration, she dashes into the warehouse, zigzagging between crates as the soldiers pursue. Their targeting systems anticipate each move, and the building explodes in a hail of bullets and plasma blasts. Then she dashes up the side of the building, getting onto a narrow ledge, hoping to avoid detection.
But now, she faces a new threat from the skies. As the drones scan the area with infrared vision, zeroing in on her location. They follow her with pinpoint accuracy, their energy blasters firing bursts of searing plasma.
In a desperate move, Sasha hurls herself into the fray, aiming to take down as many enemies as possible before her stamina gives out.
{6 combatants neutralized}
She moves in a whirlwind of motion, a blur of punches and kicks that land with bone-shattering force.
{5 combatants neutralized}
But for every one she knocks down, two more close in, their enhanced reflexes and speed allowing them to counterattack with brutal efficiency.
{2 combatants neutralized}
Her attempts to dodge the drone fire are made even more challenging by the coordinated assault from the security. Each time the she attempts to evade a drone, another soldier closes in, and the cycle of attack continues. The drones' blasters fire in rapid succession, and her movements blur even more as she weaves through the barrage of energy blasts.
'They're cornering me, I need to take the high ground'
In a desperate maneuver, she darts up the side of a tall shelving unit, hoping to escape the concentrated drone fire below. The drones follow, their sensors locking onto her position. They adjust their trajectories, firing from above.
With a sudden burst, Sasha launches off the top of the shelving unit, aiming to close the distance between herself and the soldiers. As she does, the drones descend in a coordinated pincer movement, their blasters carving through the air. Narrowly avoiding being hit, she tries to outmaneuver the soldiers, weaving through the maze of crates, but there is no room for escape. One of them manages to grab her by the arm, wrenching pulling back with enough force to dislocate a shoulder.
"AAAAAARGH!"
She let out a guttural cry of agony, that echoed off the walls. Managing to get loose, she grabs her left arm, as it ached with a sharp, jolting discomfort.
But before she can retaliate, another soldier delivers a crushing blow to her torso, the force driving the air from her lungs.
Sasha crumples to the ground, struggling to regain her footing as the soldiers close in for the kill. She musters the last of her strength, attempting one final burst of speed, but they're ready. In a blindingly fast sequence of moves, the soldiers unleash a coordinated assault—blows landing in rapid succession, each one driving her further into the ground until she can no longer move.
As she lies battered and broken, we see her suit ripped, with searing burns all over her body.
Everywhere falls silent, save for the faint hum of the exosuits powering down. Then a ding sound played as the elevator came up the shaft.
"Well, you see, Zeke, that is the power of our forces." A voice pronounced as a figure emerged from the door.
"That's all well and good, but why isn't she dead yet?" Zeke questioned, his voice laced with impatience.
"Tisk, tisk." A patronizing tone echoed through the room.
"Your brash nature has always gotten on my nerves, Zeke." Angelo remarked, his eyes narrowing in disdain.
Without hesitation, Zeke reached into his shirt, fingers brushing the cold metal of his handgun.
"Boss." Raymond stressed, his voice tight with anxiety, as he grabbed hold of Zeke's arm, a silent plea to hold back.
"Know your place, boy." Zeke warned, his voice low and menacing, though he hesitated, taking heed of his subordinate's advice.
Reluctantly, he released his grip on the weapon.
"Wise choice." Angelo mocked.
"As your second in command, I demand an explanation!" Zeke's voice thundered.
"There's no need to shout." Angelo teased, his voice infuriatingly calm.
"It's simple, really." He paused, letting the tension linger.
"She didn't acquire this power on her own. I'm quite curious about the source of her abilities." A devilish smile slowly crept across his face, his eyes gleaming with sinister intent.
"I'd like to give the Doctor a call."
"Very well, do as you please." Zeke remarked, his voice curt as he turned on his heel, leaving the scene with Raymond following closely behind.