After dragging the corpses into the shadows, Blake examined the blood pooling on the dusty ground with a frown. That would be harder to conceal. There wasn't much to be done about it now, though, other than to kick some more dirt over the liquid and hope for the best.

The maintenance hatch drew his attention—heavily reinforced, with a keypad sporting alien symbols that glowed with a soft blue light. Still, he and Kitt had planned for this.

"Think you can crack it?" he asked Kitt.

"Oh, definitely," Kitt's eagerness was almost tangible. "Get me nice and close to that panel. Time for me to work some magic."

Blake pressed his gloved hand against the keypad, feeling the material shift slightly as Kitt detached some of her biomass and dove into the alien systems. "Their security is... interesting," she reported. "Lots of layered encryption, and the architecture itself is, actually, kind of elegant. Just give me a bit to work through it."

Movement caught Blake's enhanced vision—a patrol approaching from the east. He dropped into a defensive crouch, bringing Verdict to bear while still maintaining contact with the panel. "Kitt..."

"Almost there! Just need to... yes! Override sequence initiated. Rax 0, Kitt 1."

The hatch unsealed with a soft hiss of hydraulics, and Blake held his tongue about Kitt's moment of self-congratulation. His priority was getting through that opening before the patrol made it around the corner. The emergency lighting inside bathed everything in a deep crimson that reminded him of dried blood. Under that red glow, he could see how time had ravaged the walls, leaving them pockmarked and deteriorating. Exposed cables drooped from the ceiling like jungle vines, their casings cracked and peeling.

Blake studied the hydraulic door's mechanisms, running his fingers along the weathered metal. His [Sand in the Gears] title kicked in, and [Warden's Insight] refined its data correspondingly, highlighting weak points in the hydraulic system.

"There," he muttered, finding a critical junction box beneath a loose panel. "Kitt, what do you think? Cut these two lines and jam the auxiliary?"

"Perfect spot. Though I'd also suggest crushing that backup solenoid while you're in there."

Blake yanked the cables free and twisted them together, then smashed the solenoid with the butt of his knife.

"Alright, they can't get in if the hydraulics are dead," he whispered. "Let's move."

"Motion sensors up ahead," Kitt warned. "But I can see their coverage patterns now. Bear right at the next junction—we can use the maintenance crawlway to bypass most of them."

Blake moved carefully through the narrow space, letting Warden's Insight guide him past each sensor's detection zone. Kitt's additions to the skill proved invaluable, highlighting each device's exact range and creating clear "safe" paths between them. Blake allowed himself a moment of child-like glee at how stereotypically "secret agent" it felt.

The maintenance tunnel opened into a wider corridor that smelled of rust and ozone. Blake emerged in a crouch, every sense heightened as he took in his surroundings. Overhead lights flickered and sputtered, casting unstable shadows across scarred metal walls. Exposed wiring hung in loose tangles, swaying gently in the recycled air. Dark stains marked the walls and floor—some looked like oil or chemicals, others... didn't.

Distant explosions rumbled through the compound's superstructure, accompanied by the muffled crack of gunfire. The battle outside was intensifying.

"Charming place," Kitt whispered in his mind. "Really brings out that 'abandoned industrial horror' vibe."

Blake ignored her commentary, focusing instead on gathering tactical data. [Warden's Insight] heightened his already exceptional perception, revealing subtle details about his environment. The air currents shifted unnaturally to his left—someone moving down the intersecting corridor. Blake pressed himself flat against the wall, controlling his breathing as he listened.

Heavy footsteps approached, accompanied by the whine of servos—an augmented guard. Through their enhanced connection to [Warden's Insight], Kitt provided additional context: "Energy signature suggests a plasma rifle. High-end model too, might be worth holding on to."

Blake remained motionless as the guard passed his position. The scavenger's augmentations glowed with that sickly purple light he'd noticed earlier, creating a corona of energy that [Warden's Insight] interpreted as unstable and potentially volatile. The guard's movements were jerky, suggesting poor integration between flesh and machine.

"Their tech is killing them," Kitt observed. "Those augmentations are burning through their bodies like cheap fuel."

Blake waited until the guard's footsteps began to fade before moving. He needed to cross an exposed stretch of hallway to reach the next point of cover. [Unfettered Stride] activated with barely a whisper of power, enhancing his movement. The skill mapped optimal paths through the space, showing him exactly where to place each foot for maximum stealth.

He ghosted across the open space in perfect silence, boots finding purchase on the uneven floor without a sound. The shadowed alcove he slipped into smelled of machine oil and burnt plastic, but it provided excellent cover.

Blake tensed as a burst of radio chatter erupted from down the next hall. A guard he hadn't yet seen listening to the battle outside: "...perimeter breached in sectors seven and twelve! All units respond!"

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"Negative on sector seven—we've got multiple hostiles advancing through—" Static consumed the rest of the transmission.

"Getting messy out there," Kitt commented. "Good news for us though—more chaos over there means less guns pointed this way."

Blake advanced carefully, noting increasing signs of recent activity—fresh scuff marks on the floor, still-warm coffee cups abandoned on workstations. The corridor opened into a junction ahead, where two guards stood watch over a reinforced door. One pressed a hand to the radio clipped to his vest, face twisted in concentration as he tried to make sense of the frantic communications. The other shifted nervously, plasma rifle held in a white-knuckled grip.

[Warden's Insight] highlighted details about both targets. The distracted guard's augmentations were minimal—mostly sensory enhancements. The nervous one had more extensive modifications, including reinforced muscle fibers that glowed that sickly purple beneath his skin. Both were distracted, their attention divided between their immediate surroundings and the chaos unfolding outside.

"Door's locked down tight," Kitt reported. "But those two should have access."

Blake drew his blade, angling his body to keep the metal from catching what little light filtered through the corridor. He moved like a shadow, years of training amplified by [Unfettered Stride] as he closed the distance.

As Blake neared the final stretch of the hallway, he decided to push the limits of what he'd practiced. He split his focus, channeling twin tendrils of mana into the core of his being, targeting the facets tied to Strength and Agility. At the same time, he poured more energy into [Unfettered Stride], feeding the ability until it hummed with power. The result was a synergy that amplified his speed, his enhanced attributes combining with the supernatural boost from his [Edgewalker] title. The air seemed to thin around him as he surged forward, each step faster than the last. By the time he closed the final yards to the guards, the acceleration was so intense he could feel the pull of inertia tugging at his body, as if even his flesh was struggling to keep up.

Blake's heart lurched as he realized his mistake. The world blurred at the edges, his enhanced speed carrying him forward far faster than intended. The knife in his hand became a liability—at this velocity, any attempt at precision would be impossible. His mind raced, searching for options as the distance closed.

Pure instinct took over. Blake released his grip on the blade, letting it fall away as he dropped into a kick. [Force Manipulation] flickered to life in his awareness, the ability painting vivid patterns of kinetic energy across his consciousness. He could feel the tremendous momentum built up in his own body, a freight train of force ready to be unleashed.

Time seemed to slow as Blake threw his full Intent behind the ability, visualizing the transfer of energy from his body into his target. His boot connected with the augmented guard's chest just as Blake pushed with his power, willing all that accumulated force to discharge into the impact.

The drain on his mana reserves hit like a punch to the gut, accompanied by a bizarre sensation—as if reality had hiccuped. One moment Blake was hurtling forward at impossible speed, the next he felt oddly light, almost weightless, as all that momentum tore free of his body.

The guard's body rocketed backward, carried by the full force of Blake's redirected velocity. The impact against the metal wall echoed through the corridor like a cannon shot, leaving a person-shaped dent in the reinforced steel. Blake landed softly on the ground, prone and stunned by the sheer destructive power of what he'd just accomplished.

To his right, the remaining guard stood frozen, radio forgotten in his slack grip. His wide eyes darted between Blake and his fallen comrade, mouth working silently as he struggled to process what he'd just witnessed.

"Blake!" Kitt's voice cut through his daze. "Move!"

His body responded before his mind fully caught up, muscle memory taking over as he twisted his hips. Blake's leg swept out in a practiced arc, catching the remaining guard's ankles. The man toppled with a startled grunt, his radio clattering across the floor.

The guard recovered faster than expected, rolling to face Blake with inhuman reflexes. Blake surged forward, aiming to close the distance before the man could draw a weapon. The guard's fist snapped out, some manner of ability or technique lending supernatural speed to the strike. Blake slipped the punch by millimeters, feeling the displacement of air across his cheek.

Blake drove his shoulder into the guard's sternum, pinning him against the floor. The man bucked violently, his cultivated strength threatening to throw Blake off. Blake shifted his weight, years of grappling experience guiding his movements as he snaked one arm under the guard's neck.

The guard's elbow crashed into Blake's ribs, sending sharp pain through his side. Blake gritted his teeth, tightening his grip as he locked in the chokehold. The guard thrashed desperately, muscles straining against Blake's hold. But Blake had positioned himself perfectly—the guard lacked the leverage to use his strength.

Seconds stretched like hours as Blake maintained the pressure on his blood choke. Finally, the guard's struggles weakened, his limbs growing heavy and uncoordinated. Blake held the choke a moment longer, ensuring his opponent was fully unconscious before releasing his grip.

"Well," Kitt remarked as Blake caught his breath, "that was exciting."

The guard laying crumpled against the dented wall groaned, dark blood oozing from his mouth. Blake sighed, stood up, and retrieved his knife.

"Going to dispatch of those two, then?" Kitt asked. Her tone was light, but Blake could sense she was curious about how he intended to handle them.

Blake didn't answer. He didn't like it, but he wasn't sure this was the time to try and start showing mercy. He leaned over each of the men in turn, doing what needed to be done, and cleaning his knife on one of their pants legs when he was done. Kitt was silent while he worked.

A few moments later, and Kitt had gotten the door open. Stepping through revealed a catwalk that stretched across a vast central atrium. Blake took in the scene below—dozens of guards rushing to and fro, many sporting those unstable purple augmentations. The space buzzed with frantic energy as Rax's forces attempted to coordinate their response to the external threat.

"There," Kitt highlighted an area of his HUD. "Server room is on the far side, just past that secondary security station. Getting down there undetected is going to be... interesting."

Blake studied the chaos below, noting patrol patterns and blind spots. The atrium's architecture created numerous shadows and overlapping sight lines. With careful timing and liberal use of [Unfettered Stride], they might just pull this off.

"Ready?" Kitt asked.

Blake mentally checked Verdict's magazine—11 shots, as Kitt had just fabricated a new round. He checked his knife—the edge was clean and pristine, another gift from Kitt.

He smiled as he realized that he really didn't have to worry about managing his gear any longer. Hadn't that been one of the reasons he'd given Kitt her name? She was his kit—literally. She would work on reloading herself, keeping her edge honed, and keeping the panels of her armor repaired no matter how abused they got when Blake was attacked.

"Yeah," he replied confidently. "We're ready."