The blast doors at the end of the corridor hissed shut with a finality that sounded like a coffin lid. Itachi didn't flinch. He stood amidst the carnage of the 2nd Rank, the sterile white walls now Jackson-Pollocked with the crimson and chrome of the Augmented Pawns.
"We're locked in," Lyra whispered, her voice trembling as she wiped her blade on a relatively clean patch of her cloak. "Itachi, if they seal the sectors, we're trapped in a kill-box."
"They won't seal it," Itachi replied, his eyes scanning the ceiling. He was looking for the logic, the invisible lines of the Board. "Valerius doesn't want us trapped. He wants us sorted. To him, this isn't a prison; it's a filter. He's sending a 'cleanup' crew to see if the glitch can be replicated."
Bas let out a low, rumbling growl. He was leaning against his shield, his massive chest heaving. The sheer physical exertion of crushing high-grade alloy with his bare shoulders was starting to show. "Filter or not, kid, we're out of room to run. That door is three inches of reinforced carbon-steel. Even I can't punch through that without a week and a heavy lunch."
"We aren't going through it," Itachi said. He pointed to a heavy-duty floor hatch marked with the sigil of a Rook—a stylized crenelated tower. "The White Hegemony is obsessed with verticality. The High Pieces live in the spires, but the 'Heavy Pieces'—the Rooks and the automated artillery—are housed in the foundation. This is Square C-2. The Armory."
"You want to go down?" Lyra asked, incredulous. "That's moving backward!"
"It's a tactical retreat to secure a promotion-item," Itachi countered. He kicked the hatch. "Bas, open it. And try not to break your spine this time."
With a grunt of effort that turned his face a deep shade of bronze, Bas gripped the recessed handles and wrenched. The hydraulic seals screamed in protest before the hatch gave way, revealing a vertical shaft filled with the hum of massive machinery.
They dropped down, landing on a metal gantry that overlooked a cavernous chamber. Below them sat rows of "Sentinel-class" Rooks—not humans, but massive, semi-autonomous tanks shaped like jagged obsidian towers, bristling with railguns and mana-cannons.
"Anime logic dictates that the biggest gun in the room is usually the one we should be worried about," Itachi deadpanned, peering over the rail.
"Itachi... look," Lyra whispered, pointing to the far end of the hall.
A single figure stood guarding the primary console. He was twice the size of a normal man, encased in white armor so thick it looked like he was wearing a building. He carried a gravity-hammer that hummed with a low, bone-shaking frequency.
[Target Identified: White Rook Vanguard – 'The Anvil']
"That's a real Rook," Bas whispered, his voice full of a rare, genuine respect. "Not a retired old dog like me. That's a Piece in his prime."
"He's in our way," Itachi said, his eyes glowing with a faint, predatory purple light. "And I need his Core to hit the 3rd Rank."
The Anvil didn't wait for a greeting. He looked up, his visor glowing red, and slammed his gravity-hammer into the metal floor. The shockwave ripped through the gantry, tearing the metal like paper.
"Scatter!" Itachi commanded.
As Lyra leapt into the shadows of the rafters and Bas plummeted to the floor to meet his counterpart, Itachi felt the familiar tingle of the System.
[Warning: Area of Effect (AoE) Hazard Detected]
[Strategy Suggested: Sacrifice Pawn to preserve higher pieces.]
"Shut up," Itachi muttered to the UI.
He dove off the falling gantry, not toward safety, but directly toward the Anvil. Mid-air, he saw the Rook swing the massive hammer in a horizontal arc designed to turn a human into a red mist.
"Bas! Interference!"
Bas intercepted. Two Rooks collided with a sound like a freight train hitting a mountain. The shockwave shattered the glass of every monitor in the room. Bas's shield groaned, sparks flying as the gravity-hammer ground against the iron-grey surface.
"I can't hold him for long, kid!" Bas roared, his boots skidding back across the floor. "He's got ten times my output!"
Itachi landed behind the Anvil, but the Rook's armor had rear-facing sensors. A hidden port opened in the Rook's shoulder, a micro-missile pod locking onto Itachi's heat signature.
"Predictable," Itachi whispered.
He didn't run. He moved into the lock-on range. As the missiles hissed out, he used [Stubborn Advance]. The missiles slammed into his raised forearms, the explosions rocking his body, but the 50% damage reduction and his unwavering momentum kept him upright. He emerged from the smoke, his clothes on fire, his skin charred, looking like a demon rising from hell.
The Anvil paused, a mechanical twitch of surprise in his movements. In that split second of hesitation, Lyra dropped from the ceiling. Her blade wasn't aimed at the armor—it was aimed at the neck-seal Itachi had pointed out in the previous skirmish.
Clang!
The blade didn't penetrate, but it forced the Rook to tilt his head back. Itachi was already there. He leapt onto the Rook's back, his fingers glowing with the void-black smoke of the [Shadow Syphon].
"You have a lot of mana," Itachi whispered into the Rook's helmet. "I'd hate to see it go to waste."
He plunged his hand into the exhaust port of the Rook's power-pack. The gore wasn't just blood this time; it was hydraulic fluid and liquified mana. The Anvil screamed—a digital, distorted sound—as Itachi began to drink.
The Rook tried to reach back, to crush the Pawn on his spine, but Bas slammed his shield into the Rook's knee, shattering the joint.
"Eat up, kid!" Bas yelled, his face covered in sweat and grease.
Itachi didn't stop until the white armor turned grey and the red glow in the visor faded to nothing. He ripped the massive Rook Core out—a pulsing, fist-sized diamond of pure energy—and held it aloft.
[Elite Target Deleted. Piece Value: Massive.]
[Promotion Threshold Reached!]
[Rank Upgrade: 3rd Rank Achieved.]
[Temporary Skill Unlocked: Rook-Shift (1 Use)]
Itachi looked at the Core, then at the massive Sentinel tank sitting nearby. A dark, jagged grin crossed his face. "Bas. You said you couldn't punch through that door?"
He looked at the tank's main cannon. "I think I found a bigger fist."