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DATE:6th of July, the 70th year after the Coronation
LOCATION: Taurinorum, Piemontis
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I regrouped with the rest, but the atmosphere around us was stifling, the tension thick enough to feel like a weight pressing against my chest. A sealed door loomed ahead, an imposing slab of reinforced metal that seemed out of place even in this fortress of horrors. Alice was crouched beside John, her face tense as she examined the damage to his suit and skin. He looked pale, gritting his teeth through the pain while his ability worked its slow magic to mitigate the worst of it.
"John, you should fall back," I suggested, my voice low but firm.
He shook his head, sweat dripping down his temple. "We're too deep. Going back alone? Suicide. I'll push through."
I didn't argue. He was right—retracing our steps through the maze with Luvein lurking in the shadows wasn't an option, not in his condition. But his labored breathing was a grim reminder of how little time we had.
I pulled out a connector from my kit, snapping it into the panel near the door and hooking the other end to my phone. Emily's interface lit up instantly, and I could feel her presence as she began working.
"This system is… advanced," she said through my earpiece, a hint of admiration in her tone. "It's not just a lock; it's a layered encryption sequence with multiple redundancies. It's military-grade, maybe better."
"Can you crack it?" I asked, glancing down the dark hallway where the faint growling was growing louder.
"I've improved since the casino," she replied confidently, though her tone carried a trace of tension. "I'll need time, but I'll get it."
Time. That was the one thing we didn't have.
Alice stood and joined me, her gravity-altering abilities making her steps unnaturally light. "We need to hold her off, don't we?"
"Looks like it," I said, my grip tightening on the Beretta. "Stay close to John, just in case."
The growling was getting closer, echoing ominously through the hallways. Luvein was toying with us, stalking us like prey. I could feel my pulse quicken, my instincts screaming to act, to move.
"I'm almost through the first layer," Emily said, her voice steady. "Just keep her away for a little longer."
A low, guttural laugh echoed from the shadows, followed by the unmistakable sound of claws scraping against metal.
"She's coming," Alice murmured, her voice tight.
I raised my gun, scanning the darkness ahead. "Emily, work faster."
"I'm doing my best," she shot back, her usual calm strained by urgency.
The hallway seemed to shrink as the tension grew, every sound amplified, every shadow a potential threat. And then, from the darkness, came a flash of movement—a blur of twisted flesh and glinting web.
"Here we go," I muttered, taking aim and firing.
The moment I fired, Luvein's grotesque form darted to the side with a speed that seemed impossible for something so warped and unbalanced. The shot ricocheted harmlessly off the wall behind her, and I gritted my teeth, realizing bullets weren't going to do much except waste time.
She was fast—but not invincible.
Reaching into my belt, I pulled out one of the impact grenades. Timing was everything. As she lunged again, I hurled the grenade straight at her distorted, half-human face. The small device connected with a sickening thud before detonating with a deafening boom.
The explosion tore through the silence, momentarily drowning out her screeches. Smoke and debris filled the air, and the hallway was bathed in a flickering orange glow.
When the dust settled, I could see the aftermath. Her more monstrous side—the twisted amalgamation of flesh and web—was in tatters, chunks of it blown apart. The human half of her face stared back at me, half-burned but still recognizable, her remaining eye filled with a mix of rage and pain.
She let out a distorted, guttural wail that sent a shiver down my spine. Her movements became erratic, less calculated, as though the pain was clouding her judgment.
"Got her attention now," I muttered to myself.
Behind me, Emily's voice crackled through the comms. "One more layer left. Just a bit longer!"
I glanced at Alice, who had positioned herself defensively in front of John, her expression a mix of focus and worry.
"Keep her busy," Alice urged, her voice steady. "We'll hold the line if she gets past you."
Luvein's growling shifted into a warped, mocking laugh. Her body twitched and convulsed, as if she was trying to rebuild herself right before my eyes.
"You're wasting time," she rasped, her voice a chilling blend of human and inhuman tones. "You can't stop me."
I tightened my grip on the remaining grenades. "Let's find out."
I steadied myself, the Hao suit absorbing most of the impact but leaving me momentarily disoriented. Luvein's grotesque tendrils retracted, twitching unnaturally as she prepared for another strike. Her shattered form moved erratically, but there was a twisted intelligence in her attacks.
Alice acted quickly, focusing her gravity manipulation. The air grew heavy as Luvein's body was forcibly pressed downward. Her monstrous side screamed in protest, the sheer force contorting her movements and buying me a few precious seconds.
I adjusted my stance, gripping the taser tightly, my eyes locked on her.
"She's too strong to keep pinned for long!" Alice warned, her voice strained from the effort.
I nodded, shifting my weight for another lunge. This time, I moved unpredictably, weaving left before pivoting sharply right. Luvein swung a warped limb to block me, but I was ready. Anticipating her movement, I ducked low and thrust the taser upward into the soft, exposed tissue of her ribcage-like structure.
Electricity surged through her body, and the hallway lit up again with a blinding arc of light. Luvein convulsed violently, her screeches reverberating through the space. The air filled with the stench of burning flesh and ammonia, making my stomach churn.
Her tendrils flailed wildly, striking walls and tearing apart cabinets, but Alice maintained her grip, holding her down just enough to keep her from retaliating effectively.
"Keep her grounded!" I shouted as I pressed the taser deeper, maximizing the charge.
Luvein's remaining human eye locked onto mine, filled with unrelenting hatred. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a distorted gurgle before her body spasmed and collapsed momentarily under the combined pressure of Alice's power and the taser's impact.
"Now!" I barked, signaling Alice and John to move toward the door as Emily's voice came through the comms.
"The lock is cracked!"
We didn't have much time. Luvein was down, but I could see her twitching, trying to recover. Her monstrosity wouldn't be subdued for long.
The heavy door groaned as it started to open just enough for us to squeeze through. We stumbled and pushed ourselves through the narrow crack, John clutching his injuries, Alice keeping her focus despite the strain. Behind us, Luvein's distorted voice screamed, a chilling mix of rage and desperation.
"Let me leave!" she howled, her monstrous form clawing its way toward the door.
As the mechanism began to close, her remaining human hand shot forward, trying to stop it. The reinforced steel didn't hesitate. It crushed her hand with a sickening snap, the force severing it cleanly at the wrist.
Her scream echoed through the hallway, a horrible mix of pain and fury, as blood splattered across the floor. The disembodied hand remained trapped in the mechanism, mangled and twitching grotesquely before the door sealed completely.
We stood on the other side, gasping for breath. The metallic scent of blood still clung to the air. Emily's voice broke the tense silence.
"You're safe for now, but I'm detecting movement. We need to keep moving."
John leaned against the wall, pale but steady. "We can't let her regenerate or find another way through. If she gets past that door..."
Alice interrupted, her voice cold. "Then we make sure she doesn't. Let's focus on the mission. We're too deep to turn back now."
I nodded, wiping sweat from my brow and reloading my Beretta. My gaze lingered on the bloody hand, now lying lifeless on the floor behind us.
"She's not done yet," I muttered. "Let's make sure we are."
As John adjusted his breathing, he asked, "How did you even get the door open?"
I hesitated, keeping my voice casual. "An AI assistant I have on my phone. She's... reliable in situations like this."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious, but didn't push further. Instead, he gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable. Alice shot me a quick glance, but she didn't say anything either.
The hallway we entered was a stark contrast to the maze-like medical section. Bright white walls, perfectly illuminated, gave the place a sterile yet unsettling atmosphere. It was too clean, too quiet, with not even a hint of alarm systems despite everything that had just unfolded.
To our right, a staircase descended further into the unknown. I peered over the railing, noting at least three floors below us. "Looks like the elevators weren't just for convenience," I muttered. "Some go much deeper than others."
John leaned against the wall, wincing as he adjusted his suit. "We should check. If the team in the falling elevator survived, they're probably down there somewhere."
Alice nodded, her expression tense. "We need to regroup. Splitting up this much isn't working."
We descended cautiously, the sound of faint gunfire and distant shouts echoing from the upper levels. Each step downward only amplified the eerie silence around us. No alarms. No resistance. It felt as though the facility was holding its breath, waiting for something.
Halfway down, John broke the silence. "No alarms... that doesn't feel right. You'd think a place like this would have every bell and whistle going off by now."
I glanced at him. "Maybe they don't want to alert anyone aboveground. Or maybe they're confident we're not making it out of here alive."
Alice shivered, gripping the railing tighter. "I don't like this. Let's keep moving."
The deeper we went, the more the unsettling calm gnawed at me. Something wasn't adding up, but I couldn't put my finger on it. All I knew was that this silence was far more dangerous than any alarm.
The descent to the next floor was uneventful, with Emily feeding me updates in a calm, clinical tone.
"This floor is standard weapon storage, based on schematics," she said. "Recommend skipping. Unlikely to find any personnel here."
I relayed her assessment to the others, and we agreed to press further down. The administrative floor was supposedly next, and that's where things would start getting interesting.
When we stepped onto the administrative floor, the atmosphere shifted. Unlike the chaotic medical section or the sterile hallways above, this floor felt strangely mundane. Cubicles stretched in orderly rows, complete with cheap desk partitions, abandoned computer monitors, and scattered paperwork. It was jarring to think this was just one level beneath a storage area packed with explosives and firearms.
Alice wandered toward a desk, picking up a stapler and frowning. "This doesn't feel real. How can they run an operation like this? Paperclips and staplers next to crates of rifles?" It actually was pretty logical. One in two Ventians deal with gangsters even if they are aware of it or not. Something like this is in fact considered honorable business, considering the Donn isn't known for tongue cutting or torture like Balmundi and their enemies.
The reality we live in...
John leaned against a wall, wincing from his earlier injuries. "Makes sense, actually. Every empire needs its accountants. Somebody has to track the blood money."
I didn't respond, distracted by Emily's update. While I was connected to the door, I picked up something strange. There's another floor below this one. It's not on the standard schematics—a smaller area, more isolated. Could be a panic room. Could be where the Donn is hiding.
I frowned. "This is supposed to be the last floor, but Emily says there's something else. A hidden level beneath us."
Alice's eyes narrowed. "Then we need to move fast. If the Donn's still here, that's where he'd be."
John shook his head. "If. If he hasn't already slipped out. Look at this place. Everyone's gone." He gestured at the empty cubicles. "If the office staff managed to escape, odds are he did too."
I didn't respond, but I hoped he was wrong. If the Donn was gone, this entire mission would be for nothing. "Let's search for the access point to the lower level."
The eerie quiet of the office floor weighed on me as we moved through it, the faint sound of distant gunfire above reminding me that time wasn't on our side.
The crack of rifles echoed as we scrambled to the ground, bullets whizzing above us and embedding into the cubicle walls.
"**Vecchi bastardi!**" came the snarling voice of one of the gunmen, slinging slurs in old Ventian. I peeked around the corner. A group of about fifteen men in suits stood at the other end of the crowded office area, rifles aimed in our direction.
"They're dressed as accountants," Alice hissed. "Are you kidding me?"
"It's camouflage," I muttered. "But I don't have time for this."
I felt the vial inside me crack open as I willed it, the chemical rushing into my bloodstream. The world slowed as I inhaled deeply, my senses sharpening as everything moved in molasses-like motion. I could feel my pulse steadying even as adrenaline surged.
Fifteen targets. Fifteen bullets.
Rising to my feet, I aimed the Beretta with precise intent. Each shot felt like a deliberate act, the recoil a manageable ripple. The men moved sluggishly, their rifles jerking in slow arcs.
One. Center mass.
Two. Shoulder.
Three. Headshot.
I fired methodically, shifting my aim seamlessly between targets. A few bullets struck their marks with deadly precision: chest, shoulder, neck. The others weren't clean kills but debilitating enough to take them out of the fight. Ten men dropped before I slipped back behind cover, just as a volley of return fire tore through the air where I'd stood.
"Seven incapacitated, three confirmed kills," Emily reported coolly in my ear.
The suit absorbed a couple of glancing shots as I ducked back. Large-caliber rounds—Ventian designs were always about power and accuracy rather than spray-and-pray tactics. They wouldn't waste ammo, which meant every shot was meant to kill.
"They're regrouping," Alice said, her voice tense. She pressed her hands to the ground, focusing her gravity manipulation. "I can pin them down, but you'll need to finish them."
"No time," I replied, reloading. "We push through. Emily, map me the fastest route past these guys."
The layout appeared in my HUD, highlighting a zigzag path between the cubicles. I looked at John, who was clutching his side but still standing. "Stay low. Follow me."
Alice nodded, her focus intensifying as the floor beneath the remaining gunmen shifted subtly. Their footing faltered, rifles jerking as they tried to adjust to the unnatural pull of gravity.
"Let's move," I whispered, and we launched forward, bullets ricocheting off cubicle walls as we advanced.
We ran while I took a small lead to scout ahead.
At some point Emily warns me of a tripwire, but it is too late and I already catch the small string, making it detonate.
The explosion rattled the room, blasting desks and debris everywhere. I stumbled, but the Hao suit absorbed most of the force, shielding me from harm except for a few cracks in the armor where earlier fights had weakened it. My ears rang as I assessed the situation.
I was starting to hear the Ventians again. They were closing in.
Alice and John were pinned beneath a pile of desks, temporarily out of the fight. I glanced around and saw my Beretta had been thrown toward the guards. Emily's voice cut in urgently:
"Ten targets advancing. Multiple rifles trained on your position."
I inhaled deeply, activating my ability once more. Time slowed as I sprinted toward the cubicles for cover, the distorted sound of gunfire echoing in my heightened awareness. Bullets tore through the air, shattering partitions and narrowly missing me. I pressed myself against a cubicle wall, shrinking my frame as much as possible.
I continue while they reloaded. It was protocol that in a firing squad half of them reload while half fire so that they aren't caught lacking. It was something I still remembered since my days as a gangster.
I closed the distance while under the slowed time, running under the desks and pick up the Beretta.
In this state they wouldn't be able to aim.
When I reached the closest guard I took out my bayonet knife and stabbed him in the neck, piercing it to the other side.
I aim his rifle and fire at the others until I run out of bullets. About three remain who I finish with my pistol.
When I let go of my breath, they all drop to the ground. My heart was beating rapidly. It seems like the new formula is stronger than the pouches but still less damaging than snorting straight up cocaine. I think I should be able to use it about two more times.
Before I even returned to Alice and John, a deranged, grating laugh echoed through the wreckage, sending a chill down my spine. I knew that laugh all too well.
Barryvard.
He looked older than when I'd last seen him—his once-dark hair now streaked with white, stress etched deeply into his face. A thick, stuffy mustache curled above his lip, giving him the appearance of someone twice my age. It struck me how differently time had treated us. In Ventia, where men married at sixteen and aged quickly under the weight of old traditions, Barryvard now resembled someone out of a history book. The sight made me uneasy, a reminder of everything I despised about our homeland.
But there was no time for musings. He held Alice by the neck, a pistol pressed to her temple, his wild eyes scanning me.
"You. Who the hell are you?" he barked, his voice dripping with suspicion.
Of course, he couldn't recognize me through the mask. That bought me a moment, though not much of one.
I took a cautious step toward him, hands raised slightly in what I hoped would seem like a non-threatening gesture. "Let her go, Barryvard. You don't need to do this."
His laugh cut through the tension like a blade. "I wouldn't take another step if I were you."
To prove his point, he fired a shot, grazing just above Alice's nose. The sharp sound made her flinch, but her eyes remained defiant.
"You think I'm bluffing?" he sneered. "Try me. I'm strapped to the teeth with bombs."
I froze. A dead man's trigger. Knowing Barryvard, that was exactly his style. He'd always been a fan of theatrics and self-destruction, even back when we were just boys. This was his ultimate show.
"You don't even know who you're dealing with," he continued, his voice rising in pitch. "One wrong move, and we all go to hell together."
My mind raced, weighing my options. Barryvard wasn't bluffing; he never bluffed. Any sudden move could set off the explosives.
Alice's eyes met mine, her expression unreadable. Was she trying to tell me something?
"I'll make this simple," Barryvard said, tightening his grip on her. "Answer me, or she dies. Who are you?"
I didn't respond immediately. Revealing my identity wasn't an option—it would complicate everything. But stalling for time might give me an opening.
Barryvard's gun wavered slightly as he gestured toward the chaos I had left behind.
"I'm impressed. These were highly trained men, and you took them all down alone," he said, his voice laced with mock admiration. "But I suppose powers do have their benefits..."
I felt Emily scrambling for a plan in the back of my mind, but her silence told me everything: there was no clear way out of this where both Alice and I survived.
"Let her go," I said, my voice deeper thanks to the synthesizer in my mask. There was no need to sound robotic; a calm and commanding tone would suffice.
Barryvard smirked. "As if. Someone from Chou sticking their nose into this petty hero business..." He squinted, his smirk turning into a frown. "You aren't actually from there, are you?"
Of course he'd figure it out. He knew the Chou Special Forces weren't allowed to operate outside their country unless explicitly ordered. Barryvard was smarter than I gave him credit for.
"You know, I—"
Before he could finish, I saw Alice's expression shift. She was about to make her move, and I had to be ready. She activated her power, pressing Barryvard down with an intense gravitational force. The strain contorted his face, and I activated my ability, the world slowing to a near crawl.
Time stretched as I bolted forward, Emily's voice in my ear becoming a high-pitched whine before settling into clarity.
I felt a flash of surprise as Emily continued speaking in slowed time, but then it clicked: she was designed to process data far faster than a human mind. Slowed time wouldn't impair her; from what I saw of her capabilities, she was like a thousand human minds working at the same time.
I reached them, shoving Alice out of the way before tearing at Barryvard's suit. Beneath the fabric, his skin bore the faint outlines of embedded micro-bombs. I could see thin scars running across his arms and chest, signs of surgical implantation.
Emily's analysis came through, the laser scanner in my visor mapping his body in real-time.
"Explosives detected. Multiple implants beneath dermal layers. The neural trigger is located somewhere in his brain."
Barryvard's deranged smirk remained as I weighed my options. Emily rattled off a dozen scenarios in my ear, but none of them offered a clean solution. His body was riddled with implants, and without a direct connection like the one I'd used to open the door, Emily couldn't intervene.
Killing him outright would trigger the bombs; that much was clear. But knocking him out might just buy us enough time to handle the situation. It was risky, but it was the only viable option.
"Emily, can you confirm if there's any explosive trigger outside the chip?" I muttered.
"I don't know. I don't have an X-ray."
Great. I needed to incapacitate him without triggering any fail-safes, and the best way to do that was to strike his head without causing lethal damage. A taser wouldn't suffice directly—it could disrupt his nervous system but might not knock him out.
I unholstered the taser and flipped it around, focusing on the heavy, reinforced back end. It was sturdy enough to shatter glass and durable enough to handle a strike against bone. That would have to do.
I practiced the trajectory three times, ensuring my aim was precise. It would be easy to overdo it and crush his skull, especially with the strength amplified by the suit. But with careful control, I could deliver just enough force to knock him unconscious without killing him.
On the fourth motion, I moved in. The heavy back end of the taser struck the side of his head with a dull thud, the force carefully measured to avoid a fatal impact. Barryvard staggered to the left, his grip on Alice loosening slightly.
For a moment, everything seemed frozen, and I considered pulling Alice away. But no—if he really had bombs strapped to his body, there was no guarantee I could get her far enough in time. I had to trust my instincts.
I took a sharp breath, steadied myself, and let it go. Time resumed its normal flow.
Barryvard's body swayed as his eyes rolled back. He crumpled to the ground, the gun falling from his hand and his frame limp. Emily's voice came through immediately.
"No detonation detected. Neural activity disrupted but not terminated. Subject incapacitated."
Alice's gasps filled the room, her hands trembling as she tried to calm herself. Her wide eyes darted to me, a mix of fear and relief flickering across her face. My heart pounded in my chest, from the exertion. I shouldn't force my body like this, not with the side effects creeping in.
I crouched down beside her, speaking softly but firmly. "Alice, where's John?"
She blinked rapidly, swallowing hard as she tried to steady her breathing. After a moment, she glanced toward a pile of overturned desks. "Over there," she whispered, pointing to a motionless figure partially buried under the debris.
I strode over to John, my movements heavy but deliberate, and began clearing the desks off him. His face was slack, his breathing shallow but steady. I crouched down and gave his shoulder a firm slap.
"Wake up," I said sharply. His eyelids fluttered, and he groaned in protest.
Another slap, this time harder. "John, get up. We're not done yet."
He stirred more fully this time, his dark eyes slowly opening as confusion painted his face. "What the hell…?"
"On your feet," I commanded, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright. He stumbled slightly but managed to find his footing.
"What happened?" he muttered, his voice hoarse.
I glanced back at Barryvard's crumpled form, my voice low. "We're moving forward. You'll catch up on the way."
John nodded, still unsteady but regaining his composure. I shot a look toward Alice, who was already pulling herself up, her expression determined despite the lingering fear.
"Let's go," I said, and together, we pressed on into the dim, hallway ahead. There was no turning back now.-*-*-*-*-*