The five battlebrothers froze mid sulk, trays of radioactive slop forgotten on the table. Boots thundered overhead, coming down the stairwell fast and heavy.
A squad of armored guards burst into the canteen, rifles raised, faces tense beneath ballistic visors. No one said a word their intent was obvious as they started barking orders.
"ON YOUR FEET! BACK AGAINST THE WALL! YOU'RE BEING ESCORTED TO CONTAINMENT!"
"Again?! We didn't even do sh*t this time!"
Darius muttered, rising slowly. But just as they were being herded out of their seats.
Screeeeeeeeeeeeee...
The sound was unnatural. A grinding whine, followed by a metallic howl of something impossibly hot tearing through reinforced steel.
Every guard froze. Then it happened. A laser edged sword sliced straight through the security bulkhead like it was made of butter.
Sparks and molten slag sprayed from the seam as the blade drew a crude circle, carving an entrance.
One of the guards started backing up, eyes wide behind his visor.
"What the..."
The metal slab groaned... then collapsed inward, slamming onto the floor like a dropped vault door. Smoke grenades rolled in. Flashbangs bounced against walls. Tear gas canisters hissed as they flooded the room with a choking fog of hell.
"FRAGS!"
Airid yelled as his reflexes from his 9 months mandatory service kicked In.
"GET DOWN!"
The five of them moved instinctively, the training kicking in. Airid planked flat, mouth open, hands over ears, eyes squeezed shut.
Cezar, Paul, Fritz, and Robert followed suit, dropping hard to the floor, just in time for.
BOOM–BOOM–BOOM!
The canteen lit up like a warzone. Then the monsters came in. Through the smoke, through the fog, they moved like demons in armor.
Fourteen black armored figures, male and female, death incarnate in synchronized motion, stepped into the chaos like the g*ds had just sent their top killers.
Their armor reflected nothing. Their visors showed no eyes. They marched into bullets like they didn't even register pain.
Laser fire lit the walls red. Lazer rifles, lazer LMGs, lazer pistols and sniper rifles ripped through the guards like they were tissue paper.
The squad went down in seconds, screaming, yelling, some trying to run. None of them got far. But it wasn't the gunners that scared the battlebrothers.
It was her. The sword wielding psycho who walked in like she was out shopping. Body propotions shaped to perfection, her black skirt swirling with every step like a dancer in hell.
Her demon mask grinned eternally, glowing eyes tracking everything. She darted through the smoke, blade flashing like lightning.
One guard screamed as she bisected him diagonally, his upper half sliding off with a sizziling thump.
Another raised a shotgun only for her to kick his knee backward, grab his helmet, and plunge the blade through it like popping a balloon.
Invicta. They didn't know the name yet. But they all felt it. Julian gawked from the ground.
"What the actual..."
Darius let out a breathless.
"Is that... is she wearing a skirt?!"
Robert, blinking tears through the gas.
"I think I'm in love and terrified and aroused and confused all at once."
Paul's voice cracked.
"That's not human. That's a boss fight with legs."
Airid whimpered, face still planted to the floor.
"I think I just saw a waifu decapitate a man."
And just when they thought it couldn't get crazier. A two meter tall wall of armor dropped in behind her, rifle belted tight to his shoulder.
He fired in short, brutal bursts, walking through cover fire like he was built to survive Armageddon. Each pull of the trigger dropped another man. No wasted motion. No hesitation.
He turned toward the five of them, walked up to them, allowed his rifle to hang by his tactical belt, grabbed his fully enclosed helmet and with a his of air removed It.
...
MC POV
"Come with me if you want to live."
I said it just like that, helmet in hand, sweat steaming off my face, rifle hanging from my belt, voice calm despite the absolute chaos unfolding around us.
The look on my battlebrothers faces?
F*cking priceless. Mouths agape. Eyes wide. Their war brains that were swimming In alchohol and bad life decisiosn same as mine stuck somewhere between relief, rage, and what the actual f*ck.
Julian blinked like he forgot how. Darius's jaw dropped so low it looked unhinged. Paul let out a broken wheeze that could've been a laugh or a sob.
Robert just looked skyward as if praying for patience. Airid whispered something foregein that I swore translated to "This isn't real."
Then the curses started.
"YOU SON OF A B*TCH!"
"YOU F*CKING GHOST!"
"WE THOUGHT YOU DIED!"
"WE GOT TORTURED FOR A YEAR WHILE YOU WERE PROBABLY GETTING BJs!"
"I'M GONNA FIST YOUR KIDNEYS THROUGH YOUR THROAT!"
My facial muscles twitched like they were trying to decide between grinning and recoiling in shame.
"Yeah, yeah..."
I waved them off, stepping aside to give them a clear path.
"You can kick my ass later. After we're out of this hellhole. Now shut the f*ck up and move!"
I turned and led the way, helmet locking back onto my head with a click hiss as the HUD snapped back to life.
Behind me, the five legendary degenerate battlebrothers of mine followed like a pack of cursed puppies, grumbling, limping, twitching but very much alive.
As we made our way back through the carnage strewn halls, they couldn't help but take it all in. Corpses everywhere.
Scorch marks on the walls. Chunks of concrete blown apart. Security doors melted down the center. The lingering stench of ozone, blood, and vaporized ego.
We passed one guy with his upper body still twitching against a wall, sliced at an angle like a ham on display.
"H*ly f*ck…"
Darius muttered.
"That's not a kill. That's a f*cking war crime."
"Who the hell did this?"
Paul whispered.
"She did,"
I jerked my head to Invicta, striding up ahead with her demon mask still on, blade humming softly, now faintly pink from blood mist.
She looked over her shoulder and gave them a two finger salute without slowing her pace.
"That skirt wearing psychopath?"
Robert asked.
"Yup."
"Remind me never to flirt with her."
"Remind me to flirt with her,"
Airid whispered.
"Remind me to get new pants,"
Julian groaned. I just shook my head as we stepped out into the blast scorched courtyard.
Above, the dropship was already descending, thrusters kicking up dust and blood slick debris, the centurion's voice coming through my helmet's earpiece.
"Dropship inbound. LZ secured. Ready for extraction, sir."
The ramp began to lower. The gunners were still covering us from their mounted positions, scanning for anything that moved.
I glanced back once. At the smoldering ruin of the black site. At the trail of fire and broken steel. Then back at my battlebrothers, scarred, pissed, alive.
"Let's go Ill show you my mancave, boys."
And this time, they followed without a word.
...
A Few Hours Later
The rotor blades of a black ops VTOL gunship sliced through the air like a predator's wings, the aircraft sleek, matte, and virtually silent aside from the low hum of its engines.
The sky was still tinged with the distant smoke of scorched earth.
Inside the cabin, six elite operators in full black gear sat in silence. Their helmets were off for now, but their expressions said it all grim, cold, focused.
"Approaching the site now,"
The pilot called through the headset. The commander, a scarred veteran with grey streaks through his buzzcut, leaned forward, peering through the viewport as the black site came into view.
And what he saw made even his blood run cold.
"H*ly f*cking sh*t..."
One of the operators muttered under his breath, pressing closer to the window. Below them was a crater of violence.
The outer fences were gone, vaporized. Watchtowers were slagged, twisted into spirals of melted steel.
Bodies guards, techs, and defense drones alike were scattered across the scorched courtyard like discarded toys.
Chunks of the facility's roof had caved in, parts of the walls cored clean through by directed energy. Some bulkheads looked like they'd been sliced by a g*ddamn li*htsaber.
And at the epicenter of it all. The breach point, still hissing smoke, marked by scorched earth and blood.
The VTOL touched down gently near what remained of the outer security checkpoint.
"Move."
The commander didn't hesitate, helmet locking in place as he dropped from the aircraft. The team fanned out behind him, weapons raised, sweeping every angle.
But there were no threats left. No resistance. Just wreckage. They entered the facility through the gaping hole in the wall.
The trail of destruction was everywhere, walls melted, floors scorched, limbs and armor fragments embedded into metal and concrete like shrapnel art.
As they moved deeper in, one of the operatives stepped over a cleanly cleaved torso.
"J*sus what kind of tech Is this?"
Another muttered.
"No Idea but It sure as hell Isnt ours."