They navigated the high-security corridors, passing through humming energy gates until they reached the main control center.
Inside, the room was a hive of activity, filled with engineers and scientists hunched over glowing consoles.
"Giji, you're finally here," the head engineer called out without looking up from his tablet.
"It seems your observer has developed a stubborn fault.
We'll run a diagnostic; it won't take long."
"Understood, sir," Nightflame replied, bowing his head with the practiced respect of a low-ranking soldier.
"Good.
While we're getting the tools ready, I have a quick task for you to run," the engineer said, finally turning to face him.
His eyes were devoid of any warmth.
"What is the task, sir?" Nightflame asked.
The trap was sprung from a blind spot at the far corner of the room, a place where no rational mind would expect a weapon to be concealed.
A microscopic aperture opened, and an ultra-high-speed pulse of antimatter hissed through the air.
