Subterranean Lake

'Snake Eye is jammed. Effective range, twelve meters.'

(That's sufficient, Goblet.)

'Entry scenario, standby.

Body, neural reinforcement, sensory calibration, standby.

High-level combat support, initiating.'

Io and Hartie split to either side of the facility's emergency exit, preparing.

'Hartie, no enemy presence. At least not in the immediate vicinity.

I'll go first. Follow me.'

'Whenever you're ready.'

The moment Hartie answered, Io silenced sound and presence, and opened the emergency exit.

He drew Raven as close as possible, closed his armpits, locked his elbows, and curled his body forward.

A compact firing stance, designed for close-quarters combat indoors. He angled the barrel sharply toward blind spots, eliminating one potential threat after another.

The facility was thick with dust. Only emergency lights illuminated the corridors, casting a dim haze.

Nothing else reached the ear but the sound of water from outside—distant, muffled. Soundproofing material seemed to be used everywhere.

If sound couldn’t reach, then silence would be a shield.

But the chance of missing an enemy’s approach increased.

“Clear.”

“Covering you. I’m behind you.”

“No light. If combat is unavoidable, we want the first strike.”

Moving with silent steps, yet gliding forward.

Every scrape of gear, every friction of metal—each note monitored.

“Pax, I’ll hear your report later. Stay still. Stay hidden.”

‘Understood, Sergeant.’

No time to question Pax.

He was somewhere on the fourth sublevel—presumably concealed in the engineer’s tool storage.

The elevator Ioh and the others used went straight down to the sixth sublevel.

Ascend the stairs, senses sharpened.

"Gunfire..."

"Sure of it?"

The sound was distant, but unmistakable. Hartie didn’t hear it, but he accepted that he had no reason to lie.

Yet it didn’t sound like combat. Only one shot. Then silence.

"Pax, you alright?"

'No anomalies.'

"Gunfire just now. I’m almost there—don’t let your guard down."

Fourth sublevel. No issues so far. Passed a few corners. Reached the corridor facing Pax’s concealed engineer’s storage.

"Wait. This way’s a dead end. I’ll set up surveillance tools—just in case.

Help me with that."

Hartie tossed a tool that looked like a tiny patrol lamp. Matte moss green. Small enough to fit barely in the palm when gripped.

A depression at the top held a black sphere inside. Likely a laser sensor.

‘Motion-detection surveillance laser exposure unit.’

(‘Seen something like this before…’)

‘At the Yoldbyk underground research facility.’

(‘Recall it. A lizard’s egg. Smaller than that, though.’)

After rotating the sensor once in a full turn, Hartie slammed its base—adhesive side—to a wall ten meters away.

The sensor type needed configuration. Io’s fingertips moved briskly across the avatar support.

Rotate the sensor head left and right twice, like opening and closing a bottle cap, then input something using the exposed keypad before closing the head.

'Vehicle-sized moving targets detectable.'

The engineer's station lies at the end of the corridor. Other rooms appear sealed shut, firmly locked.

If anything comes, it must come straight down this single path. Even if Hartie's sensors are disabled, this is a two-stage setup with no room to exploit.

(Snake Eye)

'Understood. Snake Eye, activated.'

Io conducted a careful sweep of the engineer's station interior.

Heat sources—yes, detectable. Only one ahead.

Io touched the open-close switch.

'Pax. Kept you waiting.'

Lowering the weapon, calling out. At the far end of the cluttered room, the warehouse door creaked open.

...g-gu-gu—Sergeant!

Pax burst out, filthy and half-crying.

—

“Boomer and Sergeant Zaji are in danger.”

“Wait… Boomer? The Boomer from Sinclair? Why is he here? How did he get—”

“Why are you—”

Pax was caked in mud and dust from head to toe. A shard of debris pierced his forehead, blood seeping down.

“Ah, uh… I’ll explain while moving. We don’t have time.”

Io and Hartie exchanged glances.

Whether or not it’s Boomer, and Zaji too— if they’re in danger, we have to move now.

“I’ll lead.”

“Where?”

“Where we just fought. The welfare room on the second basement level.”

“Stay behind me. Don’t leave my side. Understood? Absolutely not.”

Hartie retrieved the surveillance tool.

“Didn’t expect to collect it back in three minutes.”

“Didn’t plan to stay there long anyway.”

Still, why are there child soldiers here? Not some kind of trap, is it?

Trap?

Weedran torment their prey because they're scum—but it's not just that.

We do not abandon our comrades. They sometimes take friendly forces alive, trying to lure us out.

Io led, followed by Pax, with Hartie covering the rear, scanning for threats.

No trap— I don’t think that’s it. But it’s just as bad.

Pax begins recounting how they came to be here. Though they were no more than a drifting fragment caught in the chaos, stumbling upon this place by pure accident.

Unit 3552 was on standby for boarding, but my turn came much later.

Had to carry others—those injured and conscripted specialists—along with us.

Leap over the stacked barricade—bullet pockmarks riddle its surface.

On the opposite side stood a Defender spawn device—presumably set up by Weedran. It was destroyed.

Traces of combat. A dried blood pool remained, but no bodies.

—The civil war had begun. At first, reports of Sergeant Io’s unit’s actions reached us through comms.

Then, a lizard unit descended near 3552.

—Was 3552 outside Oxanun? Why?

—There was a lieutenant who claimed it was bad optics to favor 3552 alone.

—Leaving children in danger is far worse optics.

Hartie spat the words.

—Probably everyone else evacuated successfully.

—What about you?

—Got separated while using the latrine.

Everything was chaos. Boomer rescued me then.

—So why are you here?

Boomer was with Sergeant Zaji. He said, stay close—can’t leave you behind during the operation.

The surroundings were chaotic. I think I would’ve died if left behind like that.

So you came with us, Pax.

I’m concerned about Unit 3552 too. If you were caught in that chaos, I can’t believe you’d be unharmed.

Io stopped, grabbed Pax’s shoulder, and forced them to face him.

Pax flinched. Io’s presence was a tangled mix of emotions, anger threaded through it.

Io hesitated, unsure what to say. In the end, he spoke few words.

………………Good to see you’re alive.

Meaning it. They hadn’t fought side by side. Pax and the child soldiers had always been protected by Io and Avatar Io.

But this was Io’s reason for fighting. They had traversed a thousand kilometers under enemy control together. They had looked after one another, sometimes burdened by each other’s presence. At times, they had acted like brothers.

They had awkwardly laughed at trivial jokes. They had lined up together with troublesome children like Shorty and Michelle, scolded by Crook alongside Io.

Too much attachment.

(This isn’t my memory.)

Too late now. I no longer know what I am.

I had debated with my reflection in the mirror. The moment I accepted words that weren’t mine, the boundary of self blurred further.

This detachment might be the last resistance.

But even that—yes, too late now. Something I had to protect at all costs.

“Let’s go.”

……Almost there.

When they reached the second sublevel, more precisely just before it, Io sensed the enemy’s presence.

Enemy present. Do not let even breath escape. Being discovered would be amateurish.

Unknown what has become of the Boomer units.

A patrol unit is scanning the floor. Proceed with caution. A device resembling a surveillance system was detected.

The enemy appears to be establishing a base here.

An anomaly. Intense combat rages outside, yet silence prevails within.

—Function offline. No risk of detection by Weedran.

Move forward, quietly eliminating obstacles. Hide in darkness, mask light sources.

Fortunately, enemy numbers are not high. The lizard patrols show little vigilance. Could be eliminated in one strike, if needed.

But without knowing the situation, that option is unavailable.

—Total around twenty. Not a significant number. Cyphs are likely neutralized.

—Can you call that a negligible number in this situation? Ten times the opposition, and you still call it insignificant?

Got any traps left that can kill them? Fight smart—darkness favors us.

The recreation room, built for welfare, is significantly larger than the other chambers.

Space enough for three tennis courts, ceiling height nearly ten meters.

—How about that, you damn bastard! Try it!

Boomer’s curses echo from within. Being able to speak means he’s being interrogated.

If he were being tortured, only screams would come out.

No idea what’s become of Zaj, but he must be rescued.

Io splits from Hartie, quietly prying open one maintenance hatch.

The duct, narrow enough to resemble a mole’s tunnel, leads into the ceiling space above the recreation room. Goblet navigates it flawlessly.

Before crawling through the opening, Io spots what he’s after. A distribution panel.

Confirmed power cable for room lights.

Even if distribution panel is lowered, auxiliary systems activate immediately. Cutting the cable maintains darkness.

(Why can't you control it yourself?)

Once access to facility core is gained, it's possible.

No time for that. Io hands Pax a large knife.

Cable is twenty millimeters thick—slightly bulky—but can be severed.

Cut when signaled. Insulation is already treated.

Sergeant?

Take the overhead.

This is Hartie. I've set every trap I could think of for post-entry deployment.

Preparations are complete. I rely on you to finish before enemy patrol returns.

Io traverses the duct in under thirty seconds.

Arriving in the ceiling space, Io activates Snake Eye and secures the head above the heat source presumed to be Boomer.

Two heat sources kneeling with hands behind their backs. Around them, the distinctive silhouette of a lizard.

Gelero was supposed to be two. If one is still shouting curses at Weedran—Boomer—the other is somewhere else.

Time is short. Eight enemies. Eliminate them all quickly. Prepare for the next wave of enemy attacks.

—Good. Pax. If anything goes wrong, don’t come out from there.

—Sergeant, I’ve got a Raven too. …Not much ammo left.

In shooting drills, me and Shorty were tied for 3552 top.

—No. Assault insertion with a rescue target isn’t simple. You’re not getting a gun.

Io carefully searches the base of the nearest indoor light fixture, unscrewing the mounting bolts and nuts with a multi-tool.

Sliding the tabletop just slightly, enough to peer through without detection, he finds the Boomer and a black-armored soldier resembling Gereiro, as expected.

— What’s wrong?! Stop stalling and kill him! Come on, do it!

— Scared? Afraid of Shinclaire? You spineless lizard bastard!

The Boomer lunges at the lizard before him, still kneeling.

His helmet lies discarded beside him, smeared with blood. He’s been severely beaten.

— There’s still something I need to ask. Not finished.

— Why would I teach you anything?

— Weedran’s got no junior school, no education at all!

— If you weren’t a bottomless idiot who missed out on basic schooling, you wouldn’t be asking me anything!

— Your words aren’t getting through. Clearly.

— You’re insulting me. I see it. Not needed. That is.

Io tilted slightly, surprised. Expected it, yes, but the translator device the lizard commander was using—appearing as an outdated radio unit.

Real-time translation of the reptile’s hisses and shrieks. Not bad.

“Hartie, are the night-vision goggles ready?”

‘No need to ask.’

Io observed a little longer. A corpse lay near Boomer.

Bleeding from the head. That single gunshot earlier—this was it.

Armor and face mask suggested a Grello fragment. Too late.

Situation clear. Now, timing. Narrow focus. Sharp. Concentrated.

The lizard commander turned their back on Boomer, fiddling with the translator.

‘Now you understand. What I wanted to say.’

Translation resumed with smoother syntax than before.

‘Start over from the egg, you bastard.’

‘Needs a bit more calibration.’

Hartie began adjusting the translator again. Io issued the command to Pax.

‘Pax, do it.’

A moment. Then darkness.

‘Hartie, breach!’

Hartie kicked open the door. Two panicked lizards fell in quick succession.

Simultaneously, Io kicked the panel clear.

‘High-altitude combat support initiated.’

The usual sensation. The world stretched, warped.

Io dropped to one knee, aimed straight down, and fired indiscriminately.

Weedran unit disintegrated in seconds. Hartie, unable to risk stray shots toward prisoners, cut off his line of fire and charged forward, energy bayonet activated.

A charge like a pile driver. The bayonet struck true, dead center in the chest. Immediately after, a violent electric surge erupted. Weedran convulsed, then died.

In that moment, Io shot the fleeing commander unit. The breach was complete.

Hartie rolled away from the dead Weedran and rose to his knees.

"Hostiles eliminated!"

Io dropped from the ceiling. Landings like a cat, absorbing the ten-meter fall with no impact.

"OK, hostiles eliminated. Stay still, Boomer. I'll cut you loose now."

"That voice... you're Io? What are you doing here?"

"My turn to ask....Come on, you owe me one."

Boomer's face was twisted, nose bleeding. Pitiful sight, but no room for concern.

Hartie moved behind him and removed the cuffs. Surprisingly, they were made of resin—easy to cut through.

Handing over the rifle taken from Weedran, just shot. Enemy weapon, but nothing surprising if someone like Sinclair knows how to handle it.

— Can you use this?

— Haven’t touched one in a while. But I’ll manage.

Boomer fumbles with the rifle, unfamiliar with a weapon not of human design.

Another captive speaks up beside him.

— Hurry up with me too.

Female voice. Face obscured by a Scalmark face mask.

— I’ll release you shortly. … You’re Gerello?

— Gerello Two. Thank you for the rescue.

— Zaji?

— … Not me. Her.

His gaze lands on the corpse of Gerello One, still restrained and dead.

Gerello Two flexes her released hands, testing the sensation.

She kicks the lizard commander she’d just shot dead by Sergeant Io.

—Damn it! You— you bastard! You piece of filth!

I’ll kill you all! You filthy, repulsive reptiles!

After five kicks, satisfied, she drives her boot through the head with a final crushing step.

The skull cracks. She watches the scene to its end, then tosses the rifle to Gerello Two.

Goblet issues a warning.

—Data flow increasing. Enemy unit gathering in the sector.

—Satisfied? Thanks for the wasted time. …Now’s your chance for revenge.

—What…?

Gerello Two glares at Sergeant Io, eyes sharp with rage.

—Sergeant Io, things are getting loud! Prepare for combat!

Hartie’s shout from the corridor snapped the situation back into focus, and he immediately went to combat readiness.

—Pax, eliminate every enemy on this floor.

Don’t come out until I say it’s safe.

—Made it in time!