That mercenary group pushed into the ruins, steps echoing in the silent, decaying hallways.
Moments only after they disappear into darkness, a strange ripple distorted the space that followed them.
From inside the distortion, a tall, shadowy figure emerged: a Predator.
He had been sent to investigate these ancient ruins, though he hadn't counted on finding a lot of treasure-hunting mercenaries.
Witnessing the situation, the Predator decided it was not time to become personally involved.
Though Predators are formidable fighters, even they know when to show restraint.
The merc group numbered nearly one hundred strong, and each of them came armed and armored in advanced machinery.
The Predator knew that, no matter how skilled he was, his chances were stacked against him with such a large, well-equipped force.
Bravery and stupidity are two very different things.
As he hung back at a safe distance, he would catch their conversation.
He soon realized they had a map of the ruins.
He might then be able to find that treasure buried inside the most profound depths of the ruins without putting himself in jeopardy more than necessary.
With this strategy in mind, the Predator slunk back into darkness, stealthily keeping track of the mercenaries.
Elsewhere, Rodgraim received a message from the Predator. "A treasure hunter mercenary group? I've heard of them," he murmured thoughtfully.
"Their leader, Birdman Raynor, is a psionicist."
Rodgraim had heard whispers of this group before; in the remote reaches of the outer seas, a psionicist's presence was enough to capture attention.
For the existence of this mercenary group in that place, it meant they were on a treasure hunt.
And where the mercenary group was looking, that is where the treasure was, thought Rodgraim with a twisted smile.
His lips even began to curve upwards.
Once more, the command orders from Rodgraim echoed through the head of the other Predators in the squad.
Making his way carefully, Rodgraim advanced towards the spot where the mercenary group had last been seen while hunting for treasure.
Rodgraim himself started his move, following the suggestions from the Predator.
The ruins were called the relic of the white night clan, where people said treasures from the lost world were buried.
Rodgraim was not some philantropist; in no way did he intend to let the mercenaries take the treasure if he could first.
Rodgraim finally arrived at the central area of the ruins after passing through several winding passages.
Before him loomed a massive alloy gate, that was exceedingly incongruous amidst the crumbling and earth-worn walls.
This door was of some advanced metals, exhaling an aura of high technology that was in sharp contrast to the decaying surroundings around it.
Rodgraim's suspicion grew; letting the treasure hunters lead him here had been a pretty good decision.
The alloy gate might have been too hard to be broken open by Predators, but surely the mercenaries knew how to unlock it.
After much contemplation behind the gate, explosion suddenly came out from within.
Explosion brought tremors through the ruins and thick cloud of gunpowder smoke evaporated to everywhere in the air, wetting Rodgraim's spacesuit.
When hearing such an extremely loud noise, Seraphina, then following Rodgraim , immediately ducked to the back.
Rodgraim looked at her for only a while and then pointed to her to follow him.
Stepping measuredly,
Rodgraim approached the alloy gate and entered the room behind it. Inside, his breath was stolen away by the astounding sight he beheld.
The chamber was immense, filled with technology as antithetical as possible to the ancient surroundings.
Small bits of stone lay strewn on the floor; these caught his eye.
He picked one up, his eyes falling on the strange, inscrutable symbols etched across the surface.
At that moment, Seraphina emerged from behind her hiding place and peeked over Rodgraim's shoulder at the stone.
Her eyes lit up with recognition. "That is a rune," she exclaimed.
"It is used to govern psionic puppets-an invention of the White Night Clan.
I have seen these runes in ancient texts!"
"So, these are actually the remains of the White Night clan," she continued excitedly, "and these psionic puppets must have been put here as sentinels to watch over the treasure!"
Seraphina couldn't help but be enthusiastic, as if she was waiting for Rodgraim's compliments.
But Rodgraim just threw the piece of stone aside and evaluated their position.
It seemed the mercenaries did find and defeat some psionic puppets on their way here.
He listened to the sounds of the first boom, making an inference that the mercenaries had fought with these protectors.
Just as Rodgraim was making an inference, another loud boom came and distracted his attention.
"Let's check out, then," he said, gesturing Seraphina to come along.
The mercenaries, shaken visibly at the sight of the approaching puppets, looked at each other. One spoke under his breath.
"Why so many?"
Drawing a few rounds and a like number of clips, the mercenaries rapidly reloaded their energy weapons and readied them to confront the revivified puppets that approached them.
A fusillade of laser rounds erupted in space, filling the area with streaks of light.
The shots struck the puppets, but down at their core crystals, an easy glow was apparent-a faint brilliant reassurance that they were taking in the energy of the shots.
With a hiss that sharp as broken glass, one of the psionic puppets sent back a concentration of psionic energy that cut through the rank and file of the mercenaries.
Several of these were torn asunder on impact, torn apart to atomic soup that seemed to give the air a pinkish color.
Panic struck the survivors as they stood shocked at the loss of their comrades.
They had not anticipated that such destruction lay in the power of puppets made so long ago by the White Night Clan.
Fear gripped them at this realization that losses would just escalate if more of these guardians appeared.
One of the mercenaries, desperation etched upon his face, cried out to their leader.
"Boss! We've lost more than twenty men already. We can't advance anymore!"
Birdman Raynor clenched his fists in frustration as he mouthed a curse under his breath.
He hadn't been prepared for the psionic puppets' defenses, harder than nails.
That dark elf who had given them information about the ruins had not said anything about that.
Grinding his teeth, Raynor devoted all his energy to the task.
Lightning danced over his hands, and in a flare of psionic energy, he sent out a powerful web of electricity into the room.
It expanded, ensnaring the advancing psionic puppets.
"retreat!" Raynor commanded, unwilling to risk more losses.
He knew the mercenaries under his command were invaluable assets; there were no spares to be found in this part of the woods.
If they lost men here, it would be disastrous for the future of the group.
But when the mercenaries began retreating, they suddenly found themselves at the mercy of a great unexpected obstacle in the form of Rodgraim and his Predators.
Birdman Raynor felt something inside him, as if telling him to do something, which was to lift his gun, for he wasn't too sure about these people who somehow infiltrated the ruins.
Rodgraim was grinning with teasing laughter as he watched the mercenaries retreat.
He had intended to use those mercenaries to weaken a bit the psionic guardians, but the strength seemed lagging behind for such a task.
With a slightly curled lip, he evaluated the situation before him.
"Who are you? How did you get here?" Raynor demanded, his gun still trained on Rodgraim.
But before Rodgraim could answer, one of Raynor's mercenaries shot a nervous glance over his shoulder.
The psionic puppets, not to be denied now that they had tasted victory, had broken free of the electric net Raynor had fabricated and were advancing again.
Boss, we haven't got time for this! Those things are still after us!" One of Raynor's men cries.
A final desperate spasm in this last-ditch gamble as another mercenary finds his good-sense firing instinct overriding him, raises his gun to the oncoming psionic puppets, and starts blazing wildly.
The situation had fast plummeted into chaos.
The mercenaries were caught between the psionic puppets and the Predators, fighting for survival on both flanks.
They could only hope to escape out of the ruinous halls alive, but each passing second carried them deeper into the shades of the ancient, crumbling ruins.