The glowing red numbers in Will's peripheral vision ticked down to zero.
[Time until Lilith breach: 00:00:00]
The cracked bedrock of extraction point Delta didn't just vibrate; it exploded. A mechanical roar tore through the corrupted forest as thousands of tons of ancient, pressurized earth were violently displaced. Massive plumes of superheated steam vented from the fissures, turning the pitch-black clearing into a hissing cauldron.
Then, the monster breached.
Lilith was a jarring monument to old-world hubris, a machine that looked like it belonged in a museum rather than a wasteland. The massive subterranean drill-train tore through the bedrock, its colossal, diamond-tipped boring apparatus slowing to a grinding halt as the sleek cars behind it locked into place. Matte-black corporate steel plated the exterior, rejecting the rust and decay of the surface.
With a soft, hydraulic hiss that sounded alien in the wild, the boarding ramp lowered.
A blast of climate-controlled air rolled out of the cabin, smelling of artificial pine and sanitized ozone. It hit the strike team like a physical insult, sickeningly clean compared to the metallic tang of monster blood and rotting wood coating their skin.
Showtime, Elias breathed over the mental link.
Elias and Tyson immediately slumped their shoulders, putting on a performance of battered survivors barely clinging to life. They limped up the ramp, Tyson acting as the crutch. Will, Maddie, and Don shuffled behind them, heads bowed, hands clasped with fake zip-ties Elias had scored just enough to snap.
At the top stood a P.A.C.I.F.I.C. Elite Guard.
He wore pristine tactical armor that hadn't seen a single drop of mud. His visor was up, revealing a clean-shaven, well-fed face contorted in disgust. His hands rested casually on his hips, his sidearm holstered. There were no turrets tracking them. No snipers. The elites simply didn't believe the "Surface Trash" were capable of complex deception.
"Look at you," the guard sneered, waving a hand to clear the scent of the forest. "You're tracking bio-hazard all over the loading deck. Where is the rest of your sweep team?"
"Dead," Elias rasped, playing the broken mercenary. He coughed, leaning harder on Tyson. "Ambush. A pack of Alphas. We barely got the high-value prospects out."
The guard looked past them at Will, Maddie, and Don. His sneer deepened. "You lost three million dollars in gear for three dirty surface rats? Control is going to have your heads. Get inside, and don't touch the upholstery."
The guard reached out, grabbing Elias's forearm to yank him up the final step. It was the last mistake he ever made.
The second their forearms locked, Elias's eyes went dead cold. He activated his class ability. His arm didn't just pull; it unnaturally stretched.
The guard's eyes bulged, his vision filling with the sight of his own death as Elias's flesh elongated like heavy rubber, coiling rapidly around the man's neck like a python. Before the guard could draw breath to scream, Elias's hand expanded, the flesh forming an airtight vacuum seal over the guard's mouth and nose.
The silence was absolute. Using the struggle as a blind spot, Tyson dropped his limp and slipped into the cockpit.
Inside, the pilot glanced away from his monitors and froze. He slammed his hand toward the dive throttle to plunge Lilith back into the earth, but Tyson lunged. His massive hand clamped over the pilot's wrist, crushing the bones against the lever.
The pilot desperately reached for his hip, drawing a pristine firearm. He squeezed the trigger once.
BANG!
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space, the bullet ricocheting off Lilith's heavy interior armor. Before the pilot could adjust his aim, Tyson grabbed the man's head and violently wrenched it. The crunch of snapping vertebrae echoed out onto the ramp.
Out on the loading deck, the suffocating guard heard the shot and thrashed. He never cleared his holster.
Will flexed his wrists, snapping the plastic ties. The System sang in his blood, his massive [Dexterity] stat and [Warlord's Fortune] guiding his muscles. In a single, seamless blur, a looted dagger slipped from Will's sleeve and was thrown. The blade buried itself to the hilt in the half-inch gap between the guard's collar and helmet.
"Clear," Tyson grunted from the cockpit.
The Faction didn't wait for orders. Maddie stepped forward, kicking the dead guard's gun away and slamming the panel to seal the ramp. Don knelt beside the body, stripping the sidearm and magazines.
"Hand-cannons," Don grunted, tossing the heavy weapons to Will. "High caliber, but they only hold four rounds each. We've got sixteen bullets total. Barely enough for a skirmish."
Will caught the matte-black pistols. The System chimed.
[High-Tier Loot Secured: P.A.C.I.F.I.C. 4-Shot Hand-Cannons (x2), Armor-Piercing Rounds (x16 total).]
Will weighed the guns. Sixteen shots. He slid them into his inventory. These were for Allison—a last-resort equalizer for when she was alone.
Deep within his mind, Genghis Khan stirred.
A vault is a hole where cowards hide their gold, Warlord, the conqueror rumbled. A conqueror needs a seat of power. My capital was the center of the world. Let this fortress beneath the waves be yours. Call it Deep Karakorum.
Will's lips curled into a faint smile. He walked into the cockpit, stepping over the dead pilot. He placed his hand onto the main console. Will's eyes glowed a fierce, predatory gold.
He forced his [Warlord's Aura] into the machine, pitting the absolute authority of the System against the fragile code of the old world. The glass spider-webbed under his palm. The red lights flickered and turned a brilliant, subservient gold.
[Faction Quest Complete: The Trojan Horse]
[Massive Experience Awarded. Faction Renown Increased.]
[System Override Successful: Lilith is now Mobile Faction Territory.]
[Faction Headquarters Officially Designated: Deep Karakorum.]
[New Network Unlocked: The Subterranean Loop.]
[Unique Title Earned: Usurper of the Old World.]
Will stared out the reinforced windshield at the dark, infinite tunnel stretching ahead.
"If we don't report in," Elias warned, "P.A.C.I.F.I.C. is going to send a reclamation army."
"Let them send scouts," Will said, his voice cold. "We aren't going to the corporate bunker yet. We're going to give them a reason to cut their losses in this sector entirely."
Elias frowned. "How?"
"We take Lilith back to Deep Karakorum," Will ordered. "We load up the Cleaner corpses we slaughtered earlier. We bring Allison back here. With her skills, we're going to paint this extraction point."
Maddie's eyes lit up. "We make it look like a massacre. Like something bigger and badder wiped out the squad."
Will nodded. "We build a crime scene so terrifying that the billionaires decide this entire sector belongs to an Alpha predator they can't afford to fight."
As Will tapped the golden console, the System responded to his ruthless logic.
[Dynamic Faction Quest Generated: The Phantom Alpha.]
Objective: Stage a Tier-4 Threat Event at Extraction Point Delta to sever corporate pursuit.
Will smirked. "Engage the mag-drives, Elias. Let's go home."