Prologue
March 2027
Taipei, Taiwan
Luke Veyrin, a foreign software engineer from Europe, had been working at Mebidia’s semiconductor facility for six months.
Officially, his role was Workflow Flow Manager, overseeing system processes and optimizing operational structures for the company’s experimental chip framework. In practice, it meant long hours staring at diagrams, simulations, and logic trees that only a handful of people in the building truly understood.
Six months.
Long enough for the unfamiliar to become routine.
Long enough for the language of machines to feel more fluent than the conversations around him.
He was still adjusting to the rhythm of the factory, the precision required in every task, and the quiet tension that had slowly settled over the city.
Taipei was vibrant, restless, alive.
And lately…
Uneasy.
Ahhh…
Finally, a break.
Six hours of continuous work had left his eyes tired and his thoughts dull. Luke stepped onto the upper terrace with a cup of coffee, welcoming the cool sea breeze that pushed away the recycled air of the facility.
He was starting to adjust to the workload.
Slowly.
New job. New country. New language.
The language barrier was still the hardest part. Meetings required extra focus, casual conversations often ended in awkward smiles, and even simple exchanges sometimes demanded more effort than the work itself.
He sighed.
“I really should have taken Mandarin back in college.”
Still, the view from the top of the factory helped.
The ocean stretched beyond the surrounding buildings, calm and steady. Cargo ships moved along distant routes, while smaller boats drifted closer to shore.
It was peaceful.
Even if the view had started to feel familiar, there was comfort in watching things that followed clear paths and predictable patterns.
Unlike the world lately.
Far above the coastline, a faint sound echoed across the sky.
Luke glanced upward.
Probably just another routine patrol.
At a nearby military base, Second Lieutenant Kairis Chen, a 21-year-old Marine recently assigned to the coastal outpost, reviewed a report that immediately caught his attention.
“Sir,” a soldier said, standing at attention.
“We’ve detected two unannounced cargo ships from China. They are not scheduled for any port visit.”
Kairis frowned.
“Again?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What is listed as their cargo?”
“According to the documents, commercial shipments. Online retail goods.”
Kairis leaned back slightly.
“Two months of unannounced cargo ships, and we are supposed to believe they are all harmless deliveries?”
The soldier remained still.
“Sir?”
“Check everything,” Kairis said firmly.
“I want verification of manifests, crew lists, and container scans.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And contact the MJIB. Ministry of Justice Investigation Bureau.”
A brief pause.
“MJIB, sir?”
“I want an independent investigation,” Kairis replied.
“If something is wrong, I do not want it buried in internal reports.”
“Yes, Second Lieutenant.”
The soldier saluted and left the office.
The door closed.
A few seconds passed.
The soldier stopped in the hallway.
His posture relaxed.
His expression changed.
“Too late to investigate,” he muttered quietly.
A slow smile formed on his lips.
“We already have all the people and weapons we need.”
His smile widened.
“Right on schedule.”
“Luke, it has been nine months since you started working here, and you’ve accomplished a great deal.”
President Sansen’s voice was calm, carrying a quiet authority that didn’t need force to be felt.
“You’ve improved workflow efficiency, reduced delays, and freed our schedule for the upcoming phases. We are now four months ahead of plan.”
Luke stood quietly, unsure how to respond.
“I’ve also noticed,” Sansen continued, “that you rarely take your lunch or coffee breaks on time. You push yourself too hard.”
Luke gave a small, awkward smile.
“Take a break today. I know it’s only eleven in the morning, but take the rest of the day off.”
Luke blinked.
“A full break?”
“Do not leave the factory yet,” Sansen added. “Just relax. Go to the pantry. Coffee is on me.”
Luke nodded and replied in broken Mandarin.
“Yes, President Sansen. I take break. Few hours. Then I check systems again. Make sure everything okay.”
Sansen smiled faintly.
“You really don’t know how to rest, do you?”
Luke nodded politely.
“Oh, you might enjoy the view today,” Sansen said. “The barista mentioned you like ships. There are many cargo vessels outside right now.”
Luke glanced toward the window.
“It looks like Odba is shipping vehicles for the Odba Kibik release later this month.”
Sansen paused.
“Strange thing, though. Even if the shipment is from Odba, most of the ships are from China.”
Luke tilted his head slightly.
“Did Odba open a manufacturing line there?”
Sansen shrugged.
“Hard to say.”
He waved a hand dismissively.
“In any case, take it easy today. You’ve earned it.”
A small smile.
“And expect something extra on your next paycheck.”
“Yes, President Sansen.”
Luke bowed slightly and headed toward the elevator.
A break.
It had been a while since he took a real one. The idea felt unfamiliar—almost inefficient.
Maybe it’s time to slow down.
Tea instead of coffee, perhaps.
He almost laughed at the thought.
The elevator doors closed as he pressed the button for the 42nd floor.
There were three pantries in the facility—on the 10th, 25th, and 42nd floors. Even though Luke worked on the 8th, he always chose the top one.
Quieter.
Better view.
Faster service.
Fewer people.
“What should I get… lemon or peppermint?”
He stepped up to the counter.
“What pairs well with a bagel?”
“Oooh, Luke.”
A familiar voice greeted him.
“You’re early today.”
Mr. Tan smiled from behind the counter.
“The usual?”
“Mr. Tan,” Luke said, “me long break today. Want tea. What good with bagel?”
“Fruit tea is nice,” Tan replied. “Or something refreshing like peppermint.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“We’ve been friends for nine months now, Luke.”
A playful grin.
“You can call me by my name.”
Luke hesitated.
“Your name hard to say.”
Tan laughed.
“Is Shi Zhen-kang really that difficult?”
“I told you—just call me Zhen.”
He crossed his arms.
“I won’t serve your tea if you don’t.”
Luke sighed.
“…Okay. Zhen.”
“One peppermint tea. And a bagel.”
“Coming right up, my friend.”
A couple of hours later—
Luke stood near the glass window, tea in hand.
Steam curled faintly from the cup.
“…Yeah.”
“There really are a lot of ships today.”
He counted.
Stopped.
Counted again.
Around fifty.
“How many cars are they unloading?”
Footsteps echoed behind him.
Heavy.
Measured.
Luke turned.
Twelve armed men entered the pantry.
“Oh…”
“The Marines.”
Luke relaxed slightly.
Right. Sansen mentioned this.
He watched them briefly, thoughts drifting.
I hope the automated weapon mount works properly.
He had heard test firing earlier. Designing the targeting logic and AI flow had taken weeks.
Hope they’re satisfied.
Even though this was a chip factory, a large portion of their work supported military contracts.
A uniformed man approached and stood beside him.
“Hi. Are you Luke?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Second Lieutenant Kairis Chen.”
“Enjoying the view?”
“Yes.”
Luke nodded toward the ocean.
“I like view. Many ships lately. Nice to see.”
Kairis glanced outside.
“Yes, President Sansen mentioned that.”
He paused.
“Have you noticed anything unusual?”
Luke frowned slightly.
“Not much. More ships last three months. Nothing special.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“But today… strange.”
“Fifty cargo ships for cars.”
“I know Onda cars release this month…”
“But Onda from Japan.”
“Not China.”
“I see many China cargo ships.”
“Not Japan.”
Kairis straightened.
“…Really?”
He stepped closer to the glass.
“That is a lot.”
Then—
The building trembled.
A deep explosion thundered from the direction of the port, sending a shockwave through the structure. The glass rattled violently, and the air itself seemed to shudder.
Luke froze.
Kairis turned sharply.
Another shockwave followed.
Closer.
Stronger.
Something had gone very wrong.
“Oh shit… what the—”
Luke staggered as the floor lurched violently beneath him, the sudden motion throwing off his balance. A deep rumble rolled through the building, vibrating through the walls and into his chest. Glass panels rattled, cups shattered against the floor, and somewhere nearby, someone screamed.
A wave of tension swept across the pantry.
No one understood what was happening.
Fear spread faster than sound.
“Hands up!”
“Drop your weapons!”
The shout cut cleanly through the chaos. Luke’s head snapped toward the entrance, where several armed soldiers stood with rifles raised.
Not at the civilians.
At Lieutenant Kairis.
Kairis froze, his eyes widening slightly.
“What is the meaning of this?”
One of the soldiers stepped forward, expression cold.
“This land belongs to China. China has the right to reclaim it.”
Silence fell—heavy and unnatural.
Kairis’ voice hardened.
“…Sergeant. What are you doing?”
“What must be done.”
“Nobody move,” another soldier barked. “Or we will shoot everyone here.”
Behind the counter, Zhen’s expression shifted.
Subtle.
Controlled.
His hand slid slowly beneath the bar, fingers reaching for the hidden drawer.
“Second Lieutenant,” the sergeant said coldly, “stand down. And nobody gets hurt.”
Kairis stared at him.
“…Since when?”
A pause.
“Since—”
BANG.
BANG.
Two gunshots detonated inside the pantry.
Everything stopped.
The sergeant collapsed.
Another soldier dropped beside him.
Luke’s heart slammed violently against his ribs. He turned sharply, eyes wide.
“…Mr. Zhen?”
Zhen stood upright, gun steady in his hand, his expression unreadable.
“Well done, Special Officer,” Kairis exhaled, tension breaking from his voice. “Good thing you were prepared.”
Zhen lowered the weapon slightly.
“Yes, Lieutenant. Too many strange things have been happening these past three months.”
He glanced briefly at the bodies.
“I hid it here. Just in case.”
Luke stared at him, stunned.
“…Mr. Zhen?”
Zhen looked back at him and gave a faint, almost apologetic smile.
“Sorry, Luke. Let me reintroduce myself.”
“My name is Special Officer Shi Zhen-kang Tan.”
“I’m an undercover military operative assigned to Mebidia.”
Luke blinked.
“…Undercover?”
“We were tasked with monitoring military-related projects,” Zhen continued calmly. “Ensuring sensitive developments remained secure, and confirming there were no internal compromises.”
His gaze flicked toward the fallen soldiers.
“…Looks like we were right to be cautious.”
Kairis moved toward the window, his expression darkening as he looked outside.
The cargo ships had begun unloading.
But not vehicles.
Armored units rolled out onto the port. AUVs splashed into the harbor. Tanks deployed in formation as gunfire echoed from below.
“…Damn it.”
“We’ve been compromised,” Kairis said sharply. “We must secure the factory. We cannot let them take the prototype.”
Luke turned toward him.
“What prototype?”
“The system you’ve been working on,” Kairis replied. “The automated weapon platform—recoil control, precision targeting, adaptive firing logic.”
He kept his eyes on the harbor.
“This changes battlefield defense. Especially now that drones are being used worldwide.”
Luke frowned, trying to process everything.
“Instead of wasting missiles to counter drones,” Kairis continued, “imagine stopping them with bullets.”
He gave a bitter smile.
“Ironic, really. Military technology keeps advancing… and yet we’re returning to bullet-based anti-air systems.”
A brief pause.
“Just far more efficient.”
He turned sharply.
“Colonel Huang. Private Lin.”
“Secure the weapon system on Floor 12. Ensure it has not been compromised.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Private Chen,” Kairis continued, “retrieve the ammunition from the Humvee.”
Chaos and panic filled the pantry as gunshots echoed from somewhere below—not distant, not faint, but sharp and violent. The roar of rockets tore through the sky, sending a deep tremor through the air.
Luke’s gaze snapped toward the window.
Outside—
Missile intercepts streaked across the ocean, white trails carving across the clouds. Moments later, flashes followed. Explosions bloomed above the sea like violent fireworks—too bright, too sudden, too real.
Not beautiful.
Wrong.
Luke’s stomach dropped.
Several Marines reacted instantly.
“Move!”
Six of them rushed out of the pantry, boots slamming against the floor as overlapping commands burst through their comms. Luke barely heard any of it. His ears rang, his pulse thundered, and the world around him blurred into noise.
Lieutenant Kairis turned sharply to him.
“Luke… I know the system is still a prototype,” he said, voice tight. “…But is it usable?”
Luke’s breathing hitched.
“What the hell is happening…” His voice trembled. “I just wanted to live quietly… that’s why I moved…”
His vision wavered as his thoughts spiraled out of control.
Am I going to die here?
No.
No—this isn’t happening.
Gunshots. Explosions. Rockets.
His chest tightened, air refusing to come fast enough. Panic clawed its way up his throat.
I’m going to die.
“OI! LUKE!”
The shout slammed into him, but he didn’t respond. His eyes remained locked on nothing.
“HEY! LUKE!”
Still nothing.
Kairis stepped forward, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him upright.
SLAP.
The crack echoed inside the cramped pantry as Luke’s head snapped sideways. Pain flared, sharp and immediate—yet distant, like it didn’t belong to him.
“Wake up!”
SLAP.
“You are NOT dying today!”
Luke’s vision blurred violently. Shapes smeared. Sound distorted.
“Cooperate with me…” Kairis growled, face inches from his. “…and you live.”
Luke staggered backward, knees buckling before he crashed into a chair. His hands trembled uncontrollably, eyes unfocused, body refusing to respond.
Silent.
Sergeant Lin stepped forward.
“Lieutenant, leave him for now.”
A holographic layout flickered to life above the portable projector, blue light cutting through the chaos.
“We don’t have time to extract the prototype.”
Distant explosions rumbled through the building—closer now.
“There are already hostile engagements on the perimeter. Priority is containment.”
A brief pause.
“Hide the prototype. Purge all data.”
Luke’s voice suddenly cut through the tension.
“…Floor nineteen…”
Everyone froze.
Turned.
Luke’s head twitched slightly, his hands trembling against the armrests.
“…Chokepoint…”
“…Floor nineteen…”
His voice shook, but the words came clearer now.
“…Conference room… triangular layout… good kill zone…”
Kairis stepped closer.
“Show me.”
The holographic display shifted.
Floor 19.
An open central hall with four adjacent rooms—two on each side—and a larger chamber behind the stage. Elevator and stairwell access fed directly into the main space.
“…Like a church,” Corporal Chen muttered.
“…But workable.”
Kairis studied the layout, jaw tight.
“…Yes.”
He nodded sharply.
“We hold here until reinforcements arrive. Two Marines per room. Machine gun at center. Barricade forward for cover. Automated targeting active.”
His voice steadied as structure took over.
“Civilians and staff to the rear offices. I’ll monitor the AI.”
He glanced at Luke.
“Two Marines protect him. Side teams engage on breach.”
A pause.
“…Pincer formation.”
Luke sat frozen in the corner, staring, shaking, breathing unevenly. His mind was still splintering, struggling to keep up with everything happening at once.
Kairis exhaled slowly.
“…Good.”
He turned to the unit.
“Move. Now.”
“Special Officer, contact all units,” Lieutenant Kairis ordered, his voice cutting cleanly through the noise. “Move all ammunition and equipment to Floor 19. Corporals Huang Zhi-hao and Wu Jian-yu—evacuate civilians to the rear rooms.”
He paused briefly, eyes shifting.
“PFC Tsai Ming-jie… bring Luke with us. Carry him if necessary. Drag him if you must.”
A beat.
“He’s not capable of standing.”
Forty minutes later—
The conference room on Floor 19 had transformed.
Boxes of ammunition covered the elevated stage, weapon cases lay open, and loose magazines were scattered across the platform. Civilians crowded into the rear rooms, whispering, trembling, their voices barely audible over the distant echoes of war.
The stage stood slightly raised, accessible by three steps on each side, while a long wooden table dominated the center, facing a projector screen mounted along the wall. Chairs had been pushed aside, repurposed or discarded, and across the hall, heavy tables and whiteboards were being dragged into position.
A workspace—
Turned battlefield.
Kairis scanned the environment, taking in every detail.
“Move all tables into the hall,” he ordered. “I want to see what we can work with.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Nearly twenty office workers stepped forward, hesitation clear in their movements but resolve pushing them forward.
“Lieutenant…” one of them spoke.
“…Let us help.”
“Even if it’s just hauling.”
Kairis nodded once.
“Your cooperation is appreciated.”
Four individuals approached next, their posture noticeably firmer than the rest.
“Lieutenant,” one of them said, “we have firearm experience. We practice target shooting… we’d like to volunteer.”
Kairis studied them carefully.
“…Military trained?”
“Yes.”
“My friend and I are reservists. One year of service.”
He gestured toward the others.
“Most personnel here are younger. No training.”
“…Understood.”
Kairis gave a short nod.
“You’ll assist with defensive support.”
Distant explosions echoed through the building, low and heavy.
Sergeant Lin Guo-wei stepped forward.
“Lower floors were evacuated,” he reported. “But enemy advance units moved too quickly. Evacuation routes were compromised.”
Kairis clicked his tongue.
“…Damn it.”
Footsteps thundered from the corridor.
Several Marines entered in quick succession, one carrying a secured containment case—the prototype. Another followed with a compact system unit, both handled with urgency but precision.
“System ready for deployment, Lieutenant.”
“Set it near the stage.”
Minutes later—
Another Marine rushed in.
Luke slumped over his shoulder.
Eyes open.
Unresponsive.
“…Still dissociating,” Lin muttered.
“Seat him.”
Luke was lowered into a chair, body limp, gaze unfocused. He stared ahead, shaking slightly, as if trapped somewhere far from the room.
Lost.
Kairis turned sharply.
“Specialist Xu Wei-lun.”
“Yes, Lieutenant!”
Without hesitation—
SPLASH.
A full bucket of water crashed over Luke’s head.
He gasped violently.
“Wha—?!”
Air flooded his lungs as his vision snapped back into place.
Kairis leaned closer.
“Are you awake yet?”
Luke coughed, water dripping from his hair.
“…Yes…”
“…Thank you…”
His breathing steadied.
His eyes sharpened.
Then—
He looked at the room.
Scanning.
Calculating.
“Set the computer at the stage,” Luke said, voice low but steady. “Place the prototype at the center. Barricade the sides with tables. Seal every gap.”
The Marines exchanged glances.
Sergeant Lin nodded.
“Follow his instructions.”
Luke’s gaze remained fixed on the stage as the tables slowly formed a defensive wall.
“…Leave a gap above the prototype.”
A Marine blinked.
“…For ventilation?”
Luke nodded.
“Yes. But install a cover. Use a whiteboard as a hatch. Secure it with rope. Make it movable.”
“…Movable?”
Luke’s voice lowered.
“Just in case.”
Silence followed.
No one questioned further.
“And place whiteboards below the stage,” Luke continued. “Angle them—half slope, half wall.”
“…Purpose?”
Luke’s eyes hardened.
“If they throw grenades…”
“…They won’t land inside.”
“…They’ll bounce back?”
“Or roll back.”
A slow grin spread across one Marine’s face.
“…That’s nasty.”
Luke didn’t smile.
“Bring more whiteboards.”
The barricades locked into place, each piece fitting into a growing structure of intent. Weapons were loaded. Safeties disengaged.
They waited.
Then—
Gunfire erupted from somewhere below.
Active gunfire echoed in the distance.
But this time…
It felt closer.
The main forces were advancing.
Twenty minutes later, following Luke’s instructions, the barricade was complete.
Two layers of thick wooden tables formed the primary barrier.
Between them — fabric, leather, scraps of clothing — anything that could absorb impact.
Chairs reinforced the rear supports.
At the center, a narrow, window-sized firing gap remained.
Directly beneath it—
The prototype.
The automated machine gun.
No one was allowed behind the barricade.
Instead, the system was wired to the main computer positioned on the stage near the rear office entrance.
Above the prototype, a whiteboard hatch hung concealed beneath the upper barricade layer.
Hidden.
Waiting.
The stair elevation had been intentionally obstructed.
Wooden chairs littered the steps — the first defensive layer.
Side-room windows were sealed.
Each adjoining room was manned by:
One Marine.
One volunteer.
Two Marines monitored the staircase.
Weapons raised.
The remaining five Marines, together with Special Officer Shi Zhen-kang Tan and Lieutenant Kairis Chen, held position near the back room.
Two guarded Luke at the terminal.
Two managed the ammunition feed.
The prototype’s cartridge belt extended deep into the back room, where civilians sheltered among stacked ammunition crates.
Safest.
Yet most dangerous.
Then—
Footsteps.
From the emergency stairwell.
Detached from the building.
Boots echoed sharply against metal and concrete.
“…Contact,” one Marine whispered.
“…At least thirty…”
Outside—
UAVs drifted into view.
Behind them—
Armored vehicles rolled through the port district.
Kairis glanced through the window.
Calculating.
“…Thirty…”
A pause.
“…No… forty minutes at best.”
A radio crackled to life.
“Lieutenant Kairis Chen, respond.”
“This is Lieutenant Kairis.”
Gunfire suddenly erupted from the stairs.
The two Marines engaged immediately.
Rifles angled downward through the barricade gaps.
Enemy soldiers climbing upward were exposed the moment they stepped into sight.
BANG BANG BANG
Several attackers fell.
Bodies tumbling backward down the steps.
More silhouettes appeared.
This time—
Weapons already raised.
BANG BANG
Return fire thundered upward.
Rounds slammed into wood and shattered chairs—
But missed the narrow firing gaps.
BANG BANG
The defenders answered.
Controlled.
Precise.
“…Shit!”
A voice roared from below.
“Deploy smoke!”
A grenade clinked against the barricade.
White smoke exploded outward.
“Mask on!” a Marine barked.
Thermal optics activated.
Heat signatures bloomed through the haze.
BANG BANG
Three enemy soldiers collapsed.
“…Damn…”
“No clean push…”
“…Bring the C4—”
“But Commander!” another voice protested.
“This is a staircase!”
“If it collapses—”
“We’ll be buried in rubble!”
A tense pause.
“…Use the under-barrel launcher.”
“…Sir, if the round goes through…”
“It may hit the prototype.”
“…Just do it.”
An enemy soldier stepped forward.
Raised his rifle.
THOOMP
The grenade arced upward.
Vanishing into the barricade.
“…SHIT!”
“RUN! TAKE COVER!”
The Marines at the staircase abandoned their positions instantly.
Boots slamming as they sprinted toward the back room.
💥 DETONATION
The explosion ripped through the stairwell.
A violent shockwave thundered across Floor 19.
Chairs shattered.
Wood splintered.
Dust and debris flooded the corridor.
The floor trembled violently.
Lights flickered.
Civilians screamed.
“What the hell was that?!” someone shouted.
“They’ve breached the stairs…” Sergeant Lin muttered.
“Hold positions!” Kairis barked.
Luke steadied himself at the terminal.
Still shaking.
Eyes locked on the prototype diagnostics.
Then—
Kairis’ voice cut through the chaos.
“…Hold the rope.”
A Marine froze.
“…Rope?”
Above the prototype, the whiteboard hatch hung suspended by a length of cord.
Hidden beneath the barricade.
Luke’s voice trembled.
“If they throw grenades…”
“…Release it…”
“…Time the swing…”
“…Bounce it back…” the Marine whispered.
Realization struck.
“…Ah…”
“…So that’s what it’s for…”
Weapons tightened.
From the stairwell—
Enemy boots advanced.
Steady.
Disciplined.
“They’ve cleared the chairs!” Lin shouted.
“They’re forming up!”
Luke’s trembling fingers hovered above the keyboard.
Breathing ragged.
Mind narrowing.
“…Prototype ready?” Kairis asked.
Luke swallowed.
Eyes cold.
“…Activating…”
Footsteps echoed across Floor 19, slow and measured, each step deliberate.
Relentless.
The hallway could easily accommodate fifty men, and from the sound alone, fifteen to twenty enemy soldiers had already reached the floor. At least ten more were down—wounded or dead—while the rest waited below, preparing to push.
Tension rose.
Subtle vibrations trembled beneath the defenders’ boots, not from explosions, but from the sheer weight of advancing troops climbing upward.
At the far end of the corridor, a mirror had been positioned at an angle—an improvised reconnaissance tool. A Marine stationed inside a side room watched its reflection carefully.
Waiting.
Then—
A helmet appeared at the edge of the hallway.
Gone just as quickly.
CRACK.
A gunshot shattered the silence.
The mirror exploded on impact, fragments scattering across the floor.
“…Shit,” the Marine muttered.
“They’re not just many…”
“…They’re smart.”
Three short knocks tapped against the wooden barricade.
Signal.
“Positions!” Sergeant Lin barked.
Weapons tightened. Safeties disengaged.
The corridor fell silent again, empty to the eye—no defenders visible. Only the barricade, and the prototype beneath it.
Still.
Inactive.
An enemy soldier stepped forward, weapon raised, eyes scanning the hallway.
Nothing.
His gaze locked onto the prototype.
“…It’s not firing…”
A pause.
“…They didn’t finish setting it up.”
Confidence crept in.
He moved deeper into the corridor, studying the barricade with a quick, assessing glance.
“Well-built… but if the prototype isn’t active…”
“…it doesn’t matter.”
A sharp hand signal.
Nine enemy soldiers surged forward, fast and precise, forming a defensive circle with weapons facing outward.
Recognition flickered—
Too late.
💥
The prototype fired.
The hallway erupted as fifty rounds discharged in a single violent burst, tearing through the formation in less than a second. Bodies dropped instantly, blood spraying across the concrete walls as the assault collapsed mid-motion.
“…Fuck!”
“…FUCK!”
Enemy voices screamed from below.
Almost half the unit was down.
Dead or dying.
“Call everyone up!”
“Request reinforcements!”
A radio crackled.
“Reinforcements — T minus 10 minutes.”
Inside the conference room, Kairis exhaled slowly.
“…Ten minutes…”
“…We buy fifteen. Maybe twenty.”
Thin trails of smoke curled from the prototype’s barrel housing, heat building but still within tolerance.
For now.
“What’s the ammo count?” Kairis asked.
“Still nearly full, Lieutenant. That burst consumed fifty rounds—no feed interruptions.”
“Well done, Luke.”
Luke didn’t respond.
His eyes remained locked on the diagnostics, hands trembling as data scrolled across the screen.
Another wave of footsteps echoed upward.
“…Second assault group,” Lin warned.
“…Fifteen to twenty men.”
Bodies littered the corridor, blood pooling beneath fallen attackers.
Ten confirmed dead.
“They’re adapting…” Lin muttered.
A narrow stick extended cautiously into the hallway, a shard of mirror fixed at its tip.
Improvised probe.
💥
The prototype fired again.
Rounds shattered the mirror instantly.
“…Shit!”
“No visual intel!”
Enemy voices barked rapidly from below.
“Deploy smoke!”
“Launch UAV!”
A compact drone rose into the corridor, disappearing into the smoke. Mounted beneath its frame was a grenade launcher, its targeting system scanning blindly.
Gunfire erupted.
BANG.
The drone spiraled violently, sparks bursting from its chassis before it crashed to the ground.
“…Fuck!”
“They have thermals too?!”
“That wasn’t in the reports!”
Back inside, Kairis narrowed his eyes.
“When did you install thermal optics?”
“Twenty minutes ago. During barricade setup.”
A brief pause.
“Not yet documented.”
A faint grin touched Kairis’ lips.
“…Blind intelligence.”
From the stairwell, the enemy commander’s voice hardened.
“We can’t see inside. The drone failed. Smoke is ineffective.”
A pause.
Longer this time.
“…Bring out the specialized grenade.”
A briefcase snapped open.
Inside—
A pristine white device.
Capsule-shaped. Larger than a standard grenade. Smooth. Sterile.
Expensive.
“We only have five deployed across the battlefield… one hundred in reserve.”
“But this is a high-priority target.”
“It will disable their electronics… without destroying the prototype.”
“We must ensure it does NOT fall into enemy hands.”
“Bridge formation.”
“We breach immediately.”
“EMP device—deploy.”
The soldier twisted the capsule.
A faint electronic whine pulsed within.
He threw it into the smoke-filled corridor.
The prototype did not react.
No targeting shift.
No correction.
“…Stealth-coated…” a Marine whispered.
The device slid beneath the barricade gap.
⚡ WHUMMMM.
A sharp pulse rippled outward.
Lights flickered violently.
Luke’s monitor dissolved into static.
AI CORE: ERROR
TARGETING SYSTEM: DISCONNECTED
The prototype’s barrel froze mid-rotation.
Silence.
Then—
Darkness.
The machine shut down instantly.
Luke’s eyes widened.
“…No…”
“…No response…”
The radio sparked.
Then died.
Thermal optics flickered—
Offline.
Across Floor 19, every system failed.
Silence returned.
Heavy.
Suffocating.
Tension broke—
Into despair.
It crept in slowly.
Unavoidable.
The abyss stared back.
The lights suddenly died.
Darkness swallowed Floor 19.
For a brief moment, no one moved. Then the Marines reacted instantly, pulling out emergency kits as glow sticks cracked to life. Small military-grade illumination rods were clipped onto their plate carriers, casting a dim green haze across the conference room.
Weak light.
Barely enough.
But enough.
“Thermals are offline.”
“Power’s gone.”
“The prototype—”
“…Down.”
Luke stared at the dead monitor.
Frozen.
Thermals—off. Electricity—off. Prototype—dead.
“No…”
“Our only hope…”
“My work…”
“…Fried…”
“…Unusable…”
His voice cracked, fragments breaking apart as the weight of it all collapsed inward.
“All the sacrifices… sleepless nights…”
“…Gone…”
Then—
Laughter.
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
The sound tore through the darkened room, violent and unstable, echoing off the walls with something unhinged behind it.
“This is what it is, huh?!”
Luke gasped between bursts.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“No!”
“I will survive this!”
“To hell with all of you!”
The laughter rose again—louder, sharper, almost feral.
“I’ll eat you all alive!”
The Marines froze, exchanging uneasy glances.
Something had shifted.
Then—
Luke’s voice changed.
Flat.
Cold.
Focused.
“…Countermeasures still viable?”
“…Yes,” Sergeant Lin answered cautiously.
“Good.”
Luke extended his trembling hand.
“Give me a gun.”
“…Luke?” Kairis asked.
“Just give it.”
A rifle was placed into his hands.
“You,” Luke said, pointing at the Marine holding the rope mechanism. “Be ready.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Glow stick.”
Luke hooked it onto the open vent above the prototype housing. The green light spilled downward, illuminating the choke point just enough to reveal movement.
“Focus on sound. Focus on movement.”
“Watch the opening.”
“If anything comes through—”
“Drop the rope instantly.”
“Yes, sir.”
From the stairwell, a voice whispered.
“What was that laughter…?”
“…Did they crack?”
“Of course they did,” another replied. “It was their only chance.”
“Move in. The prototype is disabled.”
Half of the remaining enemy soldiers entered the conference room, stepping over the bodies of their fallen allies, weapons raised and ready.
No resistance.
“…Clear…”
Then—
A dim green glow pierced the darkness.
The suspended glow stick above the prototype.
“…They’re desperate…”
“…Even exposing their weak point…”
Another glow stick flew from the vent, thrown by Lieutenant Kairis.
Five sharp knocks echoed.
Signal.
Two doors at the far end of the conference room burst open.
BANG BANG BANG.
Gunfire ripped through the darkness as muzzle flashes strobed violently. Enemy soldiers dropped almost instantly, blood spraying across the floor as the ambush unfolded in seconds.
Outside—
More bodies fell.
Within moments, the number of corpses doubled.
Silence reclaimed the hall.
Only a few attackers remained.
“Reinforcements arriving in three minutes,” a Marine reported.
Relief flickered.
Fragile.
Kairis exhaled slowly.
“…We’re almost there…”
He spoke quietly, barely above a whisper—but it carried.
Enough for the civilians to hear.
Enough to spark hope.
Then—
THOOMP.
Another grenade launched from the entrance, cutting cleanly through the air in a perfect arc toward the illuminated hatch.
The Marine at the rope mechanism reacted instantly, eyes locked on the incoming threat.
Distance—thirty meters.
Travel time—
“…Two point three seconds…”
“…Two…”
“…One…”
“Drop!”
The rope released.
The whiteboard hatch swung downward.
CLANG.
It struck the grenade mid-air.
The device ricocheted backward—
💥
The explosion tore through the conference room entrance, obliterating three enemy soldiers instantly.
But the blast forced the right-side door open.
“CONTACT RIGHT ROOM!”
Gunfire erupted again—desperate and chaotic.
Inside, a Marine and a volunteer fought to hold the line.
Then—
THOOMP.
Another grenade.
It disappeared into the exposed room.
“…SHIT!”
BOOM.
The room vanished in fire and splintered wood.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Terrible.
Two grenades detonated in rapid succession, their explosions ripping through Floor 19 with violent force. The shockwaves rolled outward, sending tremors through the defenders’ boots and shaking the structure itself.
The conference room entrance ruptured under the blast. Concrete shattered, leaving a jagged crater near the doorway as cracks spread across the tiles. Dust and debris drifted through the dim green haze cast by the glow sticks, thickening the air.
“Unit 7, respond!”
Silence.
“Unit 7?”
“Unit 7!”
The call echoed from the back office, tight with urgency.
Desperate.
No response came.
Only silence.
Heavy.
Absolute.
“…Fuck!”
There was no movement from the right-side room. No voices. No gunfire.
Nothing.
At the far corner, a sound broke the stillness.
“Hihihihi…”
Luke.
He sat near the terminal, a crooked smile stretching across his face, his eyes trembling with something unstable beneath the surface.
“Almost there…” he whispered.
“Hihihihi…”
Then—
The smile vanished.
His expression emptied, turning cold and hollow.
Kairis stared at him for a moment.
Then moved.
He grabbed Luke by the collar and yanked him upright.
SLAP.
“Two good men died there!” Kairis shouted, his voice cracking with raw anger.
Luke turned slowly, his cheek already swelling. His eyes were empty.
Detached.
“…So?”
Kairis froze.
Luke’s gaze drifted across the room, unmoved by the destruction around him, as if none of it mattered.
Then—
Footsteps echoed from the ruined corridor.
Kairis snapped back, drawing his handgun as he moved into position.
Luke struggled to hold the rifle, his arms trembling under its weight. Kairis noticed immediately. Without a word, he took the rifle and pressed his pistol into Luke’s palm instead.
Luke turned toward the silent prototype. He removed the magazine from the pistol, then glanced at the rifle.
“Magazine…”
Sergeant Lin reacted instantly, pulling his own magazine free.
Luke swapped them with steady precision. The prototype magazine locked into the rifle with a sharp click.
His eyes remained cold.
Focused.
“Careful,” he muttered flatly. “If that gun overheats… you’re dead.”
“You’ve done well, Luke,” Kairis said. “But I’ll take over from here.”
He knocked twice against a nearby table.
Signal.
Side doors opened.
No gunfire.
“…Clear.”
“…Safe for now.”
Only a handful of enemy soldiers remained below, waiting.
The Marines swept their corners, securing the conference room. Kairis led the counterattack into the hallway, the remaining Marines following close behind.
Luke remained on the stage.
Two Marines guarded him while volunteers huddled behind stacked ammunition crates, trembling.
Gunfire echoed through the corridor.
Short.
Violent.
“All threats cleared!”
“Floor secured!”
Relief rippled through the back room as tension loosened and hope began to return.
“Reinforcements arriving in one minute.”
Then—
Gunshots.
From the back room.
Luke’s body jerked violently.
“…Luke?!”
A volunteer stood frozen, gun trembling in his hands, eyes wide and unhinged.
“How dare you laugh…”
“…At the death of my friend…”
BANG.
The Marines reacted instantly. The volunteer dropped, neutralized before he could fire again.
“Luke’s hit!”
Kairis spun and rushed back.
“What happened?!”
“Luke was shot!”
“The shooter is neutralized, Lieutenant!”
Kairis clicked his tongue.
“…Damn it…”
“Carry him! Stop the bleeding!”
Luke was lifted onto an overturned table, blood soaking through his uniform as hands pressed urgently against the wound.
Footsteps echoed again.
Closer.
Faster.
Five heavily armed enemy soldiers burst into view—
And opened fire.
BANG BANG BANG.
Chaos tore through the hallway once more.
“CONTACT FRONT!”
“The reinforcements—”
“…They’re not ours!”
Gunfire thundered relentlessly.
One by one—
The Marines fell.
Silence followed.
Sudden.
Terrible.
Luke’s vision darkened.
His fingers felt numb, distant, as if they no longer belonged to him. Warmth pooled beneath his back, thick and spreading, while his breathing grew heavy and uneven.
Gunfire faded into muffled echoes.
“…Luke!”
A voice called out.
Far away.
Distorted.
“Stay with us!”
Hands pressed against his wound, but the pain felt muted, slipping further from his grasp.
“…So this is it…”
After everything…
After all I did to keep us alive…
Just to end like this…
“…Heh…”
“…What a joke…”
Voices blurred together—shouting, commands, desperation.
“Apply pressure!”
“We’re losing him!”
“MEDIC—!”
The sounds stretched and warped, dissolving into nothing.
Cold crept inward.
Slow.
Inevitable.
“…Yeah…”
“…Maybe next life…”
Darkness swallowed everything.
BLACK.
Horses.
Screams.
Fire roaring.
Luke’s eyes snapped open.
A carriage.
Burning.
Heat.
Smoke.
Chaos.
“…Stars…?”
No…
It should still be day—
He raised his hand.
Small.
Soft.
A toddler’s hand.
“…This isn’t my hand…”
Strong arms lifted him—short, broad, muscular figures with long beards, tattooed skin, and swords at their sides.
Luke’s heart pounded.
“…Where the hell am I…”
Voices echoed around him in an unfamiliar language, low and gravelly.
The world spun.
Darkness returned.
And Luke fainted once more.