Junior adjusted his stance, the weight of the rifle off in a way he couldn't quite place. His mind kept circling back to the tech. It was too advanced, too complicated—supposed to be intuitive, but it wasn't. The emblem beeped softly in his ear, the comms quiet for now. He struggled to keep the target steady, let alone line up the shot.

Beside him, Lieutenant Mendez crouched low, eyes scanning the snow-covered streets. She didn't look tense, even with the raptors lurking in the distance. She looked calm, like this was routine.

Lieutenant. That was something else he was still adjusting to. When he joined these ROTC cadets, he hadn't expected to fall into their chain of command, but now he was under Mendez's leadership. Chen had tried to downplay the rank system, saying it was more of a formality than anything else. But Junior knew better. In the real world, power had a way of becoming real, formalities or not.

"The audio cues are tricky at first," Mendez said, her voice crystal clear over the comms. Junior barely glanced at her. His focus was on the gun in his hands, the advanced rifle that felt more like a toy than a weapon. It was supposed to make things easier, but it felt like it was making everything harder.

"If this was my rifle," he muttered, "I'd just take a few shots and dial it in myself."

Mendez chuckled softly. "I don't doubt it. You wanna try it your way?"

Junior hesitated, staring down the barrel at the glowing dot that drifted, never quite locking on. "Nah," he said, shaking his head. "Just let me know if they start doing that jumping thing."

He shifted again, wincing as his boots sank into the snow. They were custom-made, designed to support his leg, but they threw off his balance. It made everything feel off, like he was constantly leaning to one side. In a firefight, that imbalance could get him killed.

Focus, Junior.

The emblem beeped again, guiding his aim toward a raptor in the distance. All he had to do was keep steady, follow the tech, and pull the trigger. But it felt like trying to juggle a dozen things at once—hold steady, follow the beeps, don't miss, don't get killed.

Before he could fire, a shot rang out.

He blinked, his eyes narrowing as the raptor collapsed. He hadn't even pulled the trigger. He turned his head slightly, catching Mendez lowering her rifle.

"Sorry, Jackson," she said, her tone light and teasing. "You'll get the next one."

Junior let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing. "Emblem, track the last unit." The system responded immediately, locking onto the fallen raptor. If he couldn't shoot a live one, he'd at least get some target practice.

"What are you doing?" Mendez asked, her eyes cutting toward him.

Junior shrugged. "You said these things are deaf, right? No harm practicing on a dead one."

"They can't hear sound waves, sure," Mendez replied, "but they sense vibrations. They can track you through walls."

Junior grimaced but refocused on the target. "Good to know," he muttered.

He pulled the rifle tight against his shoulder, his body settling into the familiar routine. The Eagle XE-R felt strange in his hands—light but somehow packed with too much power. He was used to traditional firearms, ones with weight and recoil. This felt like something out of a sci-fi movie, more magic than machine.

He glanced down the iron sights, the emblem guiding them automatically. The sights shifted on their own, adjusting to things he couldn't see. It irritated him. He preferred relying on his own aim, his own instincts.

Should've had a scope.

Iron sights were too finicky, too dependent on the tech compensating for what he couldn't feel. He liked the control of a scope, dialing in the shot, feeling the adjustments click into place. Chen had called the Eagle's system "energy to matter conversion," but to Junior, it was just another thing that felt like magic.

The rifle hummed softly, almost like it was alive. He let out a slow breath, settling his body into position. The raptor lay still in the snow, but his hunter's instincts took over anyway. He knew how to adjust for distance, how to compensate for wind, how to match his breathing to the rhythm of the shot. The emblem tried to do all of that for him, and he hated it.

The beeping quickened, urging him to fire. But Junior waited, holding back a moment longer. The tech wanted to control the shot. He wanted to control it himself.

Now.

He squeezed the trigger, smooth and steady. The rifle didn't kick. No recoil, no familiar punch against his shoulder. Instead, the Eagle made a sharp, metallic crack, launching a round that cut through the air. He watched it sail cleanly toward the target, humming as it flew.

The dead raptor jerked as the shot hit dead center, right where he'd aimed.

He was about to line up another shot when movement caught his eye. A fresh set of raptors scuttled into view, their red sensors gleaming in the cold light, three-legged frames shifting smoothly across the snow.

Mendez saw them too, tapping his shoulder as the Hub's voice came over the comms.

"Enemy units incoming."

"I see 'em," Junior muttered, adjusting his grip on the Eagle. The rifle still felt strange, but it worked. That was all that mattered.

The emblem guided his sights, but Junior's instincts were already kicking in, tracking the way the lead raptor's core swayed as it moved. He exhaled slowly, timing his shot.

The Eagle fired with another sharp crack. This time, the raptor staggered, its core exploding in a burst of scorched metal. It collapsed into the snow, its legs twitching before going still.

Before Junior could take another breath, two more were already closing in.

"On the right!" Mendez barked, her own rifle spitting fire as she took aim.

Junior spun, heart pounding as the final raptor bounded from behind a parked car, Mendez had seen it before it could. The thing tensed its legs, preparing to spring. It moved with terrifying precision, its three-legged frame shifting with mechanical efficiency. He had no time to think—only react.

His finger tightened on the trigger. The Eagle whined, the battery straining as he squeezed off four rapid shots. The first two went wide, searing through the air past the raptor's core. The third clipped its leg, slowing it just enough for the fourth shot to strike dead center.

The raptor jerked mid-leap, a shower of sparks bursting from its core. Its legs crumpled, momentum carrying it forward before it crashed into the snow, mechanical limbs twitching before falling still.

Junior exhaled, lowering the rifle as the Eagle's battery indicator blinked red, drained from the rapid fire. "Recharging!" he called out.

He gripped the rifle firmly, pivoting it just enough to line up the power cell near his hip. He pressed the butt of the weapon against it. A quick click followed by a brief pulse of heat coursed through the rifle as energy transferred from his reserve.

For a moment, everything was quiet—the kind of stillness only snow-covered streets could bring. But the silence didn't last.

Chen's voice came in eerily sharp over the emblem's comms in his ear. "Head's up! Stewart's got a train on his tail."

"Where are you?" Mendez asked, her tone sharp, already shifting into command mode.

"Coming around the department store," Chen said, his breathing sounding heavy but controlled.

Junior's eyes darted left and right, searching for the store. He felt oddly calm. Mendez didn't hesitate, already moving to the northeast, her rifle at the ready. "On me," she ordered.

Junior remembered to grab the Hammerhead from where he had left it leaning against an abandoned SUV. He stuck both weapons back into position and sprinted after Mendez, the snow crunching beneath his boots. He felt the familiar tug of the device fixed to his right leg, compensating for the limp he'd lived with his whole life. Running had always meant pain and humiliation. No more.

They reached the corner of the building, Junior skidding to a halt behind Mendez. His eyes caught the sign hanging at the edge of the building: The Shops at Franklin. A rumble vibrated through the ground, faint at first, but growing louder with each second.

"Get ready," Mendez said, her voice low but steady.

Junior glanced over and noticed she had swapped to the Hammerhead shotgun, the heavy weapon held confidently in her hands. He swallowed, gripping the Eagle tighter, his worry rising as the rumble became more pronounced.

"How many?" Mendez asked, not taking her eyes off the approaching threat.

"Lots!" Stewart's voice came through the comms, the young man's voice had grown ragged form the shouting.

"Twenty-seven raptor units," the emblem's voice chimed in, calm and detached. Junior still found the mechanical voice unnerving, its slightly feminine tone reminding him of the automated system at his bank—dispassionate, indifferent to the chaos unfolding around them.

"Show me," Mendez said, pointing at the red brick wall of the department store.

Junior watched as the emblem responded instantly. Bright red monochrome shapes materialized on the wall, simple but clear. It was like having x-ray vision, cutting straight through the concrete and brick. The outlines moved smoothly, one after the other. Junior could make out Lieutenant Chen and Bradley Stewart, their figures unmistakable as they ran flat out, sprinting toward them.

The display was basic—just silhouettes and shapes—but it was enough. He could see their movements, the way they darted around obstacles, the looming raptors closing in behind them like a swarm of shadows.

"They're almost here," Junior muttered, his grip tightening on the Eagle.

Mendez stepped around the corner with purpose, the Hammerhead shotgun raised and ready. Junior followed closely, forcing his breathing to stay even. In and out, in and out. He watched as she leveled the heavy weapon, not at the raptors, but directly at Stewart, who was running full tilt toward them.

"Stewart," Mendez called out, her voice sharp and commanding. "When I say move, you start running to your right. Fall in behind Chen."

"Okay," Stewart gasped, not breaking his stride. Junior could see he was about a hundred feet ahead of the enemy horde. There was an opening on the right, just past the department store, and Junior spotted freeway signs above. There had to be a gap for an overpass nearby.

Mendez turned her head slightly, giving Junior a quick, calculated look. "Jackson, work the targets right to left. But be ready to move."

Junior exhaled, mist rising in the cold air as he mentally braced himself. His hand reached over his shoulder, fingers closing around the barrel of the Eagle rifle. He pulled it forward, the rifle humming to life in his hands as the charge built.

"You got it," he said, locking his sights on the incoming raptors.

"Stewart, move. Now!" Mendez barked.

Stewart darted to the right, slipping behind Chen as planned. Junior held his breath, waiting for a clear shot. His eyes zeroed in on the rightmost raptor, its legs pumping hard as it tore through the snow.

He squeezed the trigger. The Eagle spat with a crack and sizzle, and his shot clipped one of the raptor's legs, sending it stumbling but not stopping. Almost simultaneously, Mendez fired her Hammerhead. The heavy slug blasted through the enemy ranks, shredding several raptors in one devastating hit. Metal fragments flew as the creatures broke formation, scrambling to avoid her firepower.

Junior quickly tracked the next raptor through the chaos, his grip tightening on the rifle as he lined up another shot.

A burst of automatic fire erupted from the left. Chen, in perfect sync with the team, unleashed his compact submachine gun. The magazine glowed green as it spat small rounds, lighting up the snow covered street with a ghostly glow.

Behind Chen, Stewart scrambled, finally pulling his own weapon into position.

Like Mendez had ordered, he worked from right to left. The emblem's floating reticle was giving him center mass targets. His shots were hitting—mostly—but not every hit was a kill. Some of the raptors stumbled, their legs giving out, but others kept charging. After fifteen or so shots—he'd lost count—he needed to reload. He cursed under his breath, hands sweating inside his gloves as he slapped the rifle against his hip to recharge.

The pause gave him a chance to catch his breath and scan the battlefield. Red sensors flickered in the haze, too many to count. Then he saw it—one of the sensors wasn't red. It was blue, and the unit was much bigger and bulkier than the others.

"Mendez," Junior called out, raising his freshly charged rifle. "Looks like they've got one of those heavy variants you were talking about. Middle of the pack."

Mendez tapped her helmet, activating something in her visor. The light reflected off her bronze skin as she turned. Junior picked out the massive figure lumbering through the raptors, its blue sensor glowing ominously in the swirling snow.

"Got it," Mendez said, already shifting her stance. "Chen? You seeing this?"

"I see it," Chen responded, and to Junior's surprise, he sprinted toward the raptors. He had the G-100 pistol in his left hand—the arm with the brace—firing with both weapons as he moved.

"Keep them busy!" Mendez ordered as she unleashed another blast from the Hammerhead, a broad spread of slugs tearing into the enemy ranks.

Junior ran to to the right, sticking close to the building's edge. He ducked into an alcove he'd spotted earlier. It wasn't just a commercial entrance like he'd assumed, it was the exit to an underground parking lot.

"Mendez!" Junior called out, firing off two quick shots. "Cover over here!"

Without waiting for a reply, he crouched low, aiming at the next wave of raptors closing in. The cold, hard edge of the concrete wall pressed against his back, grounding him as he steadied his breath and readied his next shot.

From his vantage point, he spotted Stewart circling left, moving cautiously but with purpose, his own Hammerhead raised to cover Chen. Stewart's movements were less steady, his aim not quite locking onto the targets like Junior would have hoped. Stewart was the youngest of the group, and it showed. But to his credit, he wasn't running.

It had to be those mental effects they'd warned them about.

The alien tech embedded in their gear did more than just amplify their physical abilities. It had a way of pushing fear to the background, keeping them laser-focused. Junior could feel it working on his own mind, smoothing the edges of panic, dampening the instinct to freeze or retreat. His nerves stayed steady, his aim sharper than it had ever been in a real firefight.

He knew it wasn't natural, and part of him resented it—but he couldn't deny it was keeping them sharp. Focused. Alive.

He tracked the next raptor, steadying the rifle.

Whatever it takes.

Chen was running directly at the pack of machines, his right arm extended like he was thrusting a blade toward the enemy. The G-100 in his hand spat rounds methodically, but it was his other weapon—the compact submachine gun—that demanded attention. The thing glowed green every time it fired, the rounds cutting through the cold air with an unnatural light.

Junior aimed to the right, squeezing off a shot into the densest cluster of raptors, hoping to hit something—anything—to slow the tide. This wasn't the time to waste shots.

Mendez walked backwards, tracking purposefully toward his own position. She was closing the gap between them and the spot of cover he'd found. Her Hammerhead spat tight cluster rounds, peppering the raptors striding in their direction.

Chen's SMG roared again, the bursts of green fire lighting up the battlefield like toxic flames. The rapid-fire rhythm didn't slow, even when it should have run dry. Junior noticed the spare magazines strapped to Chen's chest plate, but the man hadn't reloaded once. Just how many bullets did that thing have?

"Jackson!" Mendez shouted, her voice slicing through the chaos.

Junior snapped back, his focus returning just in time to see a raptor bearing down on him. The machine moved with terrifying speed, its three legs churning through the snow, hissing compressed gas and whirring with mechanical precision. Before he could react, one of its legs shot forward, aiming to skewer him.

He braced for impact, but the leg slammed into his armor instead, the force throwing him backward. His chest plate took the brunt of the blow, saving him from being impaled, but it felt like getting hit by a truck. The air left his lungs as he sailed through the snow, his mind racing to catch up.

Even in mid-air, Junior's mind raced. It was if a switch had been flipped. His hand flew to his side, gripping the G-100 pistol. As he twisted through the air, he drew the weapon and fired, non-existent muscle memory guiding the shot. The sharp crack of the pistol rang out as the bullet slammed into the raptor's exposed core, sending sparks flying.

Junior hit the ground hard, his armor skidding against the thin layer of ice on the parking exit's sloped concrete floor. His body screamed in protest, but he didn't hesitate. He raised the G-100 and fired again, the retort of the final two rounds echoing through the cold air. The raptor's core exploded in a burst of sparks, its mechanical legs twitching before it collapsed, lifeless.

Before he could catch his breath, Mendez was at his side, yanking him up. "Jesus Christ," she said, her eyes wide as she pulled him to his feet. "How the hell did you do that?"

Junior blinked, still processing what had just happened. He wasn't sure himself. Was it survival instincts kicking in? Some stunt from a John Woo movie he'd seen? Or maybe it was the Hub—the alien tech working through his brain, sharpening his reflexes beyond what he thought he was capable of?

"I don't know," Junior muttered, still catching his breath, eyes locked on the smoking wreck of the raptor. "Just... reacted."

Mendez raised an eyebrow, clearly about to fire off a retort, when the Hub's voice broke through their comms, cold and steady.

"Attention. I'm detecting another group of enemy units," it said.

Mendez didn't waste time. She snapped back into action, raising the Hammerhead and firing off a round. The powerful thump of the shotgun shook the air, and Junior, though still reeling from the raptor's kick, shook off the disorientation. He quickly moved to join her, the weight of the Eagle rifle once again steady in his hands.

Out of the corner of his eye, Junior spotted Chen standing triumphantly over the heavy raptor variant, one foot planted on its shattered, sparking core. Stewart was sprinting across the street to join him, but both men had their heads turned up and to the right, their eyes fixed on something above.

A shadow loomed across the clearing between the buildings. It darkened the snow and blocked the light, casting an ominous pall over the street. Junior followed their gaze, his stomach tightening. It was coming from the direction of the freeway gap he'd noticed earlier.

"Holy hell," Stewart breathed, his voice sounding like the man was standing right next to Junior despite the distance.

"What is it?" Mendez demanded, running out to meet the pair, her voice tense as she looked up to the sky.

Junior's heart dropped into his stomach as he finally saw what Stewart and Chen were staring at. Emerging from the gap in the skyscrapers, a massive raptor towered above them—thirty feet tall, a monstrous version of the smaller units they'd been fighting. Its three colossal legs pounded the ground with terrifying force, hissing as compressed gases vented from its joints. Pulses of red and yellow energy rippled across its core, casting an eerie glow over the snow-covered street.

Around it, like an entourage, were four more of the heavy variants, each with their ominous blue sensors gleaming in the dim light.

"Holy hell," Junior echoed, gripping the Eagle rifle tighter, his mind racing. This was no ordinary patrol.

Mendez came to a halt beside Chen, her eyes locked on the towering machine. "That's... a lot bigger than the ones we've been dealing with," she muttered, her voice sharp, calculating.

The massive raptor's core pulsed again, the red and yellow glow intensifying as it moved forward, its legs carving deep grooves into the frozen ground. The heavy variants spread out in formation around it, like soldiers protecting their commander.

"Jackson, stay with me!" Mendez barked, snapping him out of his daze.

Junior swallowed hard, forcing his body to respond. "Yeah," he managed, pulling up alongside her, the rifle humming with power.

"Go!" Chen shouted. "Run! I'm right behind you." Junior watched as Chen swapped to his own Eagle rifle, firing at long range.

Stewart, who had been standing next to Chen, didn't hesitate. He turned and sprinted in the opposite direction, away from the towering raptor. Its massive legs pounded the ground, each step sending tremors through the air. Junior waved him over.

"Over here!" he yelled, catching Stewart's attention.

Mendez skidded to a stop next to Junior, her eyes scanning the scene, sharp and focused. "You got an idea?" she asked, breathless but steady.

"Yeah," Junior said, pointing down into the darkened exit of the underground parking lot. "This."

Mendez gave the entrance a quick glance, then shook her head. "That thing will just knock this building over to get to us."

He hesitated. She might be right. That massive raptor could easily bring the structure down, burying them underneath a mountain of rubble. But they needed options, and fast.

In the distance, Chen squatted down, picking something up from the ground. He saw them standing there, still. "What are you doing?" he shouted. "Move!"

Junior snapped out of his hesitation, nodding at Mendez. Without another word, they turned and raced after Stewart, who was already several yards ahead, Chen taking up the rear.

"What's the plan?" Junior asked, forcing the words out between labored breaths.

His focus narrowed to the rhythm of his legs, putting one foot in front of the other. Every step reminded him how the brace on his right leg reacted to his movements. It was strange, almost exhilarating. For the first time in his life, he could feel the weight shift, landing on the back of his foot and pushing off with his toes. Something he had never been able to do before.

With every stride, he felt a growing sense of control, of power. But now wasn't the time to think about that. He needed to figure out the next move, or that thirty-foot raptor would flatten them all..

Chen caught up with them, his quick pace an impressive feat considering how far back he'd been. "We need to lure it away from our base," he said, pointing to a narrow street on their left. "Take this turn."

Junior didn't have time to argue. The four of them ran in unison, feet pounding the snow-covered streets, dodging around abandoned vehicles, remnants of previous battles scattered like the broken remains of a forgotten war. Each breath felt like ice in Junior's lungs, the cold air biting at his face.

"Hub," Mendez called as they rounded the corner, her voice steady despite the chaos, "are there any other enemy units nearby?"

"I'm not seeing anything else," the Hub responded calmly, as if they weren't running for their lives. "Just those five."

"Five!?" Stewart let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, that's reassuring."

Junior's focus wavered for a second, and his right foot caught a patch of ice. He felt his leg slip out from under him, his stomach lurching as he pitched forward. Not now, not now, his mind screamed.

Before he could hit the ground, Mendez's hand shot out, grabbing his arm and hauling him upright with a strength that belied her size.

"Thanks," he muttered quickly, feeling a surge of embarrassment.

She didn't even glance at him, just waved a dismissive hand as if it were nothing. Junior didn't need any more motivation. He tightened his grip on the rifle, pushing forward, keeping pace with the others.

"Well, technically…" Chen began, his breath finally steadying after the sprint. "Hub, what exactly are we dealing with here?"

"It appears to be... a very tall raptor unit," the Hub responded, its voice almost too casual given the situation.

"Great, thanks," Junior muttered, "we picked up on that."

Mendez shot him a look but turned her focus back to the Hub. "Anything specific about this very big raptor that you can tell us?" she asked, her voice sharp with frustration.

"It's an advanced unit," the Hub replied. "Those are worth a large amount of credits."

"You're not helping," Chen snapped. "How do we kill it?"

"Put holes in it until it stops," the Hub said, its tone flat and unhelpful.

Mendez gritted her teeth. "I'm going to take a hammer to your new personality module."

"That's not possible. It's not a physical—"

"Never mind," Chen interrupted, wiping sweat from his brow. "I already tried taking a few shots at it. The rounds just bounced off."

"No penetration at the maximum power level?" the Hub asked.

Junior turned his head as he ran, glancing between Chen and Mendez and then back towards the raptors hot on their tail.

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"Power level?" Mendez echoed, her eyes narrowing.

Chen's head snapped up, his eyes flashing with realization. "Hold on," he said, "are you saying we can increase the power of the Eagle rifle?"

"Indeed," the Hub confirmed.

Junior's heart skipped a beat. Why didn't we know that before? The thought sent a surge of adrenaline through him. The stakes had already felt impossibly high, and now it seemed they had been fighting with the safety on the whole time.

Chen shook his head, he seemed to be examining his rifle as they ran, looking for the proper switch. "Hub, how do we crank this thing up?"

Junior scanned ahead, then back at the three story tall machine. He thought they might be gaining on it, but not the heavy units.

"There is a manual override for power adjustment located in the grip of the Eagle rifle. By releasing the limiter, you can double the energy output of each shot."

Junior fumbled with his rifle, flipping it in his hands as he searched for the override. "Why didn't you mention this earlier!?" he blurted out, feeling the rush of frustration mix with the pressure of the situation.

The Hub's voice remained infuriatingly calm. "I must point out that I did not exist at the time the Defense Force selected the Eagle rifle."

Mendez let out an exasperated "Ah," a sharp huff escaping her lips as she adjusted her own weapon.

"Depress the catch along the top of the Eagle's stock until it clicks," the Hub said.

Chen's fingers moved quickly, flipping his rifle to reveal the small console on the top of the stock. Junior glanced at his own Eagle, following suit as the Hub's instructions echoed in his ear. The voice droned on, but Junior's mind was already racing ahead. He found the catch and pressed down until the soft click confirmed it was ready. "Turn the second dial to the fourth position," the Hub continued.

Okay, here we go, Junior thought, his fingers moving almost on autopilot. As the dial clicked into place, a low, vibrating hum surged through the rifle, heavier than before. The weapon was different now—like it was straining against the extra energy coursing through it.

"I should warn you," the Hub said in its usual monotone, "you'll only get one shot per charge in that mode."

"Got it," Mendez said.

One shot, then recharge, Junior repeated in his head, trying to get a grip on that reality. He flexed his hand around the grip, feeling the weight of the powered-up rifle. It wasn't panic running through him, but the sharp edge of responsibility. Don't miss, he told himself.

He glanced at Chen, who seemed calm, maybe too calm, like this was routine. Junior wished he could feel that level of confidence, but all he had was the dull ache of tension in his chest. His heart was pounding against the inside of his ribcage like it was trying to remind him—stay sharp, don't mess this up.

Mendez checked her Hammerhead, her voice breaking through his thoughts. "We've got the Eagles for long range, and the Hammerhead for close. Don't forget, single slug mode still packs a punch."

Junior nodded without saying a word, focusing on the steady hum of his rifle. It wasn't that they had to take the thing down in one shot, but every second mattered. One shot, he repeated, trying to center his thoughts. Then back to charging.

Still on the run, Junior looked back over his shoulder. His breath hitched in his throat as he saw them—four heavy raptors with glowing blue sensors, cutting through the snow with machine-like precision. They moved like soldiers on a mission, and they had nearly closed the gap.

"Heavies are on us!" he shouted in warning.

"Let's make our stand before the big one gets here," Chen ordered.

Mendez was the first to stop and turn. "Focus on the heavies first," she said., raising her Hammerhead to her shoulder.

Junior raised his Eagle, trying to steady his hands, but the rifle felt heavier than ever. His mouth was dry, his muscles tense. He lined up his sights on the nearest heavy raptor, its blue sensor glowing like an angry eye.

All four of them fired at once. No one had given a signal—no orders had been called out—and Junior absently realized the danger of that as soon as their shots hit. The consequences of their lack of communication became painfully clear. All four rounds slammed into the same heavy raptor, the force of the combined firepower reducing it to a shower of shrapnel and arcing ice-blue lightning.

For a brief moment, the battlefield was silent except for the hiss of metal and the crackling of discharged energy. Then Junior noticed it—the other three heavy raptors had vanished, as if swallowed by the swirling mist of snow.

No way... Junior's eyes darted around, searching. His mind struggled to make sense of what had just happened. And then it hit him. They hadn't disappeared—they had jumped. It had happened so fast, too fast for him to register until now. He craned his neck, scanning the skies, adrenaline spiking through his veins.

"Jumpers!" Mendez shouted.

"Move!" Chen's voice barked through the comms, and Junior saw that the man was already in motion before he had fully processed it.

Without thinking, Junior broke into a sprint, his muscles firing on instinct. They're coming from above, he thought, heart pounding as he pushed himself forward.

"Get to cover!" Mendez shouted, her voice sharp over the comms.

"No windows," Chen added quickly. Junior didn't quite get the specifics, but he could hear the urgency in Chen's tone. The words hung in the air like a warning. Junior knew that whenever Chen said "no windows," it was bad news.

Windows... Junior thought, confused for a split second. Then he remembered the story Chen had told. The first time Chen and Mendez had faced this jumping tactic, they'd blasted out a window of an office building and ducked inside for cover. But now there were no windows in sight, nowhere to break through and take shelter indoors.

The sound of splintering wood tore through the air. "Here!" Stewart called, and Junior snapped his head in the direction of the noise. Stewart was standing by an open door, waving them over. Junior scanned the street, his pulse quickening as he prepared to run.

Just as he bolted forward, one of the heavy raptors crashed down between them, slamming into the ground with a deafening thud. Snow exploded around its three massive legs, spraying into the air like shrapnel.

Junior skidded to a stop, his heart leaping into his throat as he found himself face-to-face with the mechanical monster. He aimed and fired, but the raptor moved at the last second. His shot clipped part of its bulky leg, the heavy bullet ripping a massive chunk of armor plating away. The machine stumbled, gears grinding, but it kept coming, its glowing blue sensor fixed on him.

Junior squeezed the trigger again, instinctively trying to follow up, but the rifle gave a low hum—recharging. His stomach dropped. He'd forgotten he'd set the rifle to the high-powered mode, meaning only one shot per charge.

"Damn it!" he cursed under his breath, desperately shifting his stance as the raptor advanced, undeterred.

Before he could react, the remaining two heavy raptors crashed down to his left. One landed squarely on top of an abandoned SUV, the force of the impact crushing the vehicle like an aluminum can. The raptor's legs became wedged in the wreckage, sending a wave of snow flying into the air. The thick mist of snow obscured Junior's view, blinding him for a split second.

He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his bearings as the white swirl of snow and debris clouded his vision. All he could hear was the hissing of the raptors' internal gears and the heavy thuds of their relentless, mechanical legs.

"You on it?" Mendez's voice said through his comms, cutting through the chaos.

Junior's eyes snapped to the second heavy unit, its blue sensor lights tracing a deadly path across the snow, homing in on him. His pulse quickened. He dropped his hand to his side, reaching for the G-100 pistol with his right hand while his left swung over his shoulder to pull out the Hammerhead shotgun. The Eagle lay discarded on the street, forgotten for the moment. He needed something close and fast.

Before Junior could line up his shot, Chen's voice cut in, calm and decisive. "I got this one."

The raptor in front of him was suddenly bathed in a strange green glow, like it had been haloed in light. An instant later, a jagged line of SMG fire ripped through the air. Chen's SMG pulsed with that eerie green glow as it tore through the raptor's core, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The mechanical beast shuddered, its movements faltering as the destructive force ripped it apart from within.

With a loud hiss, the once-formidable unit collapsed in two smoldering halves, steam rising from the wreckage as its legs twitched in the snow.

"Holy shit!" Junior yelled, momentarily overcome with relief and awe at the spectacle. His heart pounded, the sight of the massive raptor being ripped to pieces almost surreal after the tension that had built up.

"I gotta get me one of those," Stewart's voice chimed in, still buzzing from Chen's display of firepower.

"Stay on target," Mendez barked, her tone sharp and focused. A shot rang out to his right. "Two more, then big daddy."

Junior gritted his teeth, gripping the shotgun by the barrel in his left hand as he emptied the G-100's five shots into the raptor still wedged in the SUV. The bullets pinged off its armored legs, barely leaving a mark. Useless. He slapped the pistol back onto its attachment point on his thigh and transferred the Hammerhead to his right hand, bringing it up to his shoulder, ready to fire.

But then it hit him—he had no idea how to switch the firing mode. The heavy raptor stirred, the SUV rattling as the machine tried to wrench itself free.

No time to figure it out. He aimed high, hoping to avoid damaging the vehicle and making the thing's escape any easier. The blast hit in a tight grouping, with a quarter of the projectiles digging into the raptor's thick plating. Junior edged closer, adjusting his aim as the emblem painted the targeting reticle across the machine's surface.

Behind him, the chatter of Chen's SMG erupted again.

"We have got to move, Junior!" Mendez's shout cut through the noise, her urgency clear as the massive raptor darkened the sky, its shadow stretching across the snow-covered ground.

Junior fired again, raking the heavy unit with another shot, then a third for good measure. He didn't wait to see if it was enough. He pushed off the remains of the SUV with both hands, spinning himself around. He took a moment to find his discarded rifle.

"Anyone got any ideas?" Chen asked, his voice tight.

Rifle secured to his back, Junior took off after the others, starting to get used to the running by now. As he sprinted along the snow covered sidewalk, the ground trembled beneath his feet, a deep rumble that signaled the approach of the massive raptor unit. Its legs, like steel girders, twisted and rotated at multiple joints, each section moving with mechanical precision. One of the towering, inverted obelisks crashed through the side of a building, tearing through concrete and sending chunks of debris raining down onto the street.

With every step the raptor took, its articulated limbs slammed into the asphalt, gouging deep craters and throwing up clouds of ice, snow and shattered concrete. The joints rotated with a hiss of hydraulics, effortlessly shifting its bulk as the machine advanced. Junior barely dodged a chunk of flying asphalt as the raptor's foot smashed into the ground again, sending tremors up through his legs.

He risked a glance back just as the next leg came down, the multiple segments of the limb twisting in perfect synchronicity. The force of the impact sent rubble flying, each step a calculated wrecking blow that tore through everything in its path.

"If we can outrun it, we can kite it," Stewart called.

"It moves slow, but every step is huge," Junior said, sharing what he'd just observed.

"Kite it? Like a hunter?" Chen sounded confused.

"What the hell are you two talking about?" Mendez snapped. Junior was wondering the same thing. He risked another quick glance over his shoulder as they ran.

"Video game stuff," Stewart said.

"Take another left here," Chen called out.

Junior found another gear, pushing himself to catch up with the group as they headed for the intersection. His breath came in hard bursts, but he wasn't about to slow down now.

"This one is nothing but windows," Junior pointed out the building on the opposite corner as they made the turn.

"There you are," Mendez said as he drew up alongside her. She still had the Hammerhead in her hands, running with it like the weight didn't even slow her down.

"Jackson," Chen said, "make sure your weapons are charged."

Junior guessed that Chen was reading the power levels on the Hammerhead and the Eagle on his back as they ran. That reminded him about the Hammerhead's mode settings. Reaching over his left shoulder, he grabbed for the shotgun analog.

"Chen, Mendez, how do you set the fire mode on this thing?" he asked, glancing at the controls. Chen looked over, checking which gun Junior meant, and Junior silently cursed himself for not being clearer.

"Dial on the right of the stock," Chen explained, "like the lock on your luggage. Spin it down until it stops. We want single slug mode for this bastard."

"Woah!" Mendez shouted, dodging around a chunk of concrete that had slammed down in front of her, part of a building that the giant raptor must have sent flying as it chased them. Junior had to sidestep away from Mendez and his foot nearly caught on a pile of debris as he followed, but he hurdled it like an Olympic athlete, narrowly avoiding a fall. He blinked, surprised at how quickly he'd reacted. That wasn't like him. His body felt lighter, more responsive—like he was moving faster than he should be able to.

It wasn't entirely his doing. He could sense the emblem's subtle influence, guiding his movements, making him sharper than he had any right to be. For a second, it felt like the armor was thinking for him.

As they ran, Chen and Mendez started discussing tactics off mic, their voices just loud enough for Junior to catch pieces of the conversation.

"We need to kite it, like Stewart said," Chen grunted, glancing back at the towering raptor unit.

"First tell me just what the eff a kite is," Mendez replied, her tone skeptical.

"It means we stay just out of its reach while taking shots to wear it down," Chen explained. "We keep moving, take turns stopping to shoot."

Stewart chimed in, "It's like endurance hunting, but in reverse—we're the ones running it ragged."

"Persistence hunting," Mendez corrected offhandedly, still eyeing the raptor, "Alright, we'll alternate. Sounds better than nothing."

Junior thought so too. He wasn't sure what else they could do against something that big.

Chen went first. He spun on his heel and raised the Eagle, taking a steady aim at the massive machine barreling after them. The high-powered shot cracked through the air, slamming into one of the raptor's glowing red sensors in its central core. Sparks flew as the sensor shattered, and for a moment, the raptor staggered. Junior noticed Chen's SMG glowing a faint green across his chest.

Junior's breath was heavy, but he kept his focus. He recharged his Hammerhead, the indicator light flickering back to full, and then swapped to the Eagle slung over his back. He made sure it was charged and still dialed to the high power mode.

They kept running. Junior could feel the burn in his legs but it only lasted a moment before he felt an unnerving surge of energy. Ahead, the street was opening up. It was the freeway. They'd swung all the way around the city blocks.

"Warning," the Hub’s voice echoed in Junior’s ear. "You are approaching the edge of my sensor range."

Mendez tapped her visor, and Junior guessed she was checking the Hub’s map. She held out a hand, pointing to the invisible border. "Hold up," she warned.

"I got this," Stewart said, stepping forward for his turn. He fired the Hammerhead in a quick shot. The heavy slug shot wide of the core, and for a second, Junior thought it was a wasted effort. But then, the slug slammed into the descending third leg, right at the lowest joint. The impact knocked part of the lower limb loose, causing the massive machine to stumble. The leg sprawled awkwardly behind it, gouging deep trenches into the road as the raptor’s core dipped, nearly crashing to the ground.

"Hell yeah!" Stewart shouted.

"Now!" Mendez called, her rifle already at her shoulder.

"Reloading," Stewart muttered as Mendez lined up her shot.

The massive raptor staggered, its core still teetering, but even downed, it wasn’t defenseless. One of its articulated limbs twisted, reaching out with unnerving precision. The leg slammed into the ground, and the machine started to pull itself back upright. Mendez’s power shot tore through the moving limb, but it wasn’t enough to stop the beast.

The pointed tip of that leg speared into the brick and mortar building to Junior’s right, collapsing a section of the wall. Snow cascaded from the roof in an avalanche, burying the area several feet deep. Junior's attention was momentarily drawn by the daylight shining through the hole the Mendez had just punched though the leg, now protruding from the pile of snow.

To his left, the glassfront building he’d spotted earlier took a direct hit. The second leg raked across the structure, ripping through the tempered glass like it was nothing. A massive rent opened along the side, sending pebbled shards raining down as the raptor dragged itself forward.

Junior ducked instinctively, feeling the shockwave of the impact reverberate through his bones. The thing wasn’t giving up. His eyes locked onto the floating target projected by the emblem, wondering how it decided where he needed to aim on something this massive.

Stewart, capitalizing on his lucky hit, pointed toward the leg pinned by the fallen snow. "Let’s focus on that joint!" he called out, already reloading the Hammerhead. "It’s trapped. We can take it out while it’s stuck!"

Chen shook his head, pointing dead center with his rifle. "No. We need to hit the core—that’s the only way to end this thing!" His voice was hard, certain. "Take out the core, and it's done."

Junior wasn’t sure who was right, but his eyes flicked to his emblem’s floating reticle, still centered on the raptor’s core. He figured it knew more than any of them. He brought the Eagle up to his shoulder and squeezed the trigger, the high-powered shot slamming into the raptor’s core. The impact rocked the machine, but it didn’t stop.

His breath caught as he noticed something—the red and yellow sensors on the raptor's central body whirred, shifting to lock onto him. They were tracking him.

"Mendez, I think it's on me!" Junior shouted, ducking lower. He could feel the weight of its gaze, like he’d just painted a target on himself.

"Take cover!" Mendez ordered, pointing to the right.

Without wasting time, Junior bolted for the cover of the overhang, feeling the raptor’s sensors locked on him every step of the way. One of its massive legs slammed down behind him, obliterating the spot where he’d fired his last shot. The impact was violent, the leg coming down in two articulated sections, each the size of a city bus. Dust and debris erupted from the crater it left in the ground.

His breath quickened as he noticed the mechanical joint exposed, not more than twenty feet away. It was an open target, a weak spot. He tightened his grip on the Eagle, instinct urging him to take the shot. But then his mind raced—what if the slug passed clean through? Chen and Stewart were on the other side of the street. He couldn’t risk it.

The emblem.

"Emblem," Junior called out, his voice tense. "Show me what’s on the other side of this."

The emblem responded immediately, projecting a neon red image onto the dust stirred up by the impact. It wasn’t perfect, but Junior could make out Chen and Stewart’s positions clearly, crouched behind cover across the street. He steadied his breathing and lined up his shot.

Junior squeezed the trigger, and the Eagle surged in his hands as the high-powered shot tore into the raptor’s leg joint. Sparks and debris flew from the impact point, shards of metal scattering across the street. "Hit it now!" Junior yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos. He dove for cover behind the shelter just as the raptor leg began to lift.

"Warning, power cell at less than fifteen percent remaining energy," the emblem's voice crackled in his ear.

Junior’s heart skipped. He instinctively glanced down at the power cell strapped to his waist, the indicator lights flickering in sync with the alert. He didn’t have much time left on his current charge.

There was a grinding sound—metal on metal, harsh and grating—something was binding in the joint he’d just hit. Junior could feel the vibration through the ground, a brief hitch in the raptor's attempt to retract the leg.

Then came Chen and Stewart’s shots in quick succession. Junior watched, this time through the wall via the emblem's projection. The first bullet slammed into the weakened joint, sending another shower of sparks, but it was the second shot—Junior couldn’t tell whose—that severed the connection completely. The leg broke apart with a sickening crack of steel.

The force the raptor had been applying suddenly met no resistance. The upper section of the leg catapulted skyward, the massive limb whipping into the air, high enough that it was visible over the transport shelter wall. Junior flinched at the sight of it arcing away, while the lower portion dropped—only about eight feet, but the mass was enough to slam into the ground with a bone-rattling thud.

The asphalt pebbled and crazed from the impact, cracks splintering outward like a spider web. A mailbox near the crash site was clipped and sent careening in Mendez’s direction. Junior opened his mouth to shout a warning, but before he could say anything, Mendez had already danced out of the way, moving with a practiced fluidity as the mailbox crashed harmlessly behind her.

There was another heavy impact, just around the corner, Junior guessed. He risked a quick peek.

It was the stump of what remained of the raptor’s leg, having slammed into the ground like a severed limb still trying to move. The machine wasn’t finished—it might still be able to pull itself upright. Junior’s mind raced as he took in the scene, trying to account for all three legs.

The first leg, right in front of him, had two-thirds of its structure still intact, but the joint was severed. The second leg was farther to the left, pressed against the base of the glassfronted building. The façade was now nothing more than mangled metal, the steel framework bent and twisted, flecked with shards of shattered blue-grey window glass.

The third leg wasn’t visible from where he crouched, but Junior knew it was behind the core of the massive machine. That core, rising bit by bit, was lifting into the air once more, slowly but steadily. Yellow and red lights pulsed along the raptor’s hull in rhythmic waves, like blood pumping through veins. The thing was struggling, but it wasn’t down for good.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on his rifle. They needed to finish this before it could get back on its feet.

"Mendez, Jackson, you two all right over there?" Chen called out from across the remains of the raptor’s leg.

"We're good," Mendez replied.

"Actually," Junior said, glancing down at his waist, "my power cell could use a charge."

Without hesitation, Mendez tossed him a golf ball-sized component. He hadn’t even seen where she pulled it from. "There’s no button," she said, "you have to tell the emblem to do the energy transfer."

He caught it, giving her a quick thumbs up and a nod. "Thanks."

"All right," Chen said quickly, his voice louder now as he called from the other side. "We’ll split the core into quadrants. Mendez, you and Jackson take the right side. I’ll take the top left, Stewart the bottom left. Hub, send those instructions to the emblems."

"You’ve got it, Lieutenant Chen," the Hub replied.

Junior rolled his eyes, partially at the fake rank and partially at the Hub itself. If the Hub were human, it’d be trying too hard to fit in. He glanced over at Mendez, then back to the raptor’s core. The team was now separated by the wreckage of the leg, with Chen and Stewart on the other side. His floating reticle shifted down and to the right, locking onto his assigned quadrant. There was a strange relief in knowing exactly where to aim. He adjusted his grip on the Eagle, the cold steel grounding him.

"Hub," Mendez said, her voice clipped, "you got anything?"

"I am visually monitoring a group approximately two and a half of your miles to the southwest," the Hub responded. "I’ll alert you if they become an issue."

"It's getting up," Stewart said, his voice tense.

Junior looked back at the raptor. The machine, despite its damaged legs, was trying to push itself off the ground. Yellow and red lights pulsed across its body as it struggled, mechanical joints screeching under the strain. The pattern of lights on the raptor's outer shell shifted, the pulsing red and yellow suddenly resolving into a converging directional pattern. Strobing lights moved across the surface, narrowing into a single bright spot near the top of the core.

Junior paused. The lights were too deliberate, too familiar. He didn’t play video games much these days, but something about the strobing lights converging on a single point jogged his memory.

"Should we focus on that spot?" Stewart wondered aloud, his voice uncertain but ready for action.

Junior couldn't see Chen directly, the severed lower leg of the machine blocking his view, but Chen's voice came through clearly in his ear, as if he were right beside him—thanks to the emblem comms.

"It could be a weak spot," Chen said, his tone thoughtful, cutting through the chaos. "But it might also be building up to something else."

"Like a charged attack?" Mendez asked, her eyes locked on the pulsing lights.

"Exactly," Chen said, a touch of urgency creeping into his voice. "Let’s play it safe."

Junior felt Mendez’s hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him out of the way. "Get behind the buildings, out of line of sight," she told the others.

"Hub," Junior said as they began to move, "can you monitor the situation for us?"

"That’s... what I’ve been doing the whole time," the Hub replied, sounding almost exasperated.

"Ooooh," Stewart said over the emblem's comms, his tone amused despite the tension.

Junior couldn’t help but smirk as they ducked behind cover. "I thought it looked like something out of a game I played when I was your age," he said, thinking back to his childhood. "I think it was called... Darksoul, or something like that."

From across the cover, Chen’s voice came back, incredulous. "You mean Dark Souls?"

Junior shrugged, more focused on the situation than on getting the name right. "Right, it was a fantasy game, but it had big monsters and glowing weak points, right?"

"They still make them," Stewart chimed in. "I just played the newest version a few months ago."

"This isn't the time, nerds," Mendez cut in, Junior could see her eyes reading whatever her visor was displaying. "Focus."

Before anyone could respond, the Hub’s voice interrupted, but this time, its usual flat tone was gone, replaced by something distinctly more enthusiastic.

"And we're back with Giant Robot Monster Watch here in downtown Philly!" the Hub said, its voice taking on the cadence of a sports announcer. "They've been calling it 'Chilly Philly' recently—nearly thirteen inches of snow in the last seventy-two hours. All four of our Defense Force members are currently cowering behind the Orton Bank Center and Harpur Suites, positioned on either side of 16th Street!"

Junior blinked, momentarily stunned by the Hub's shift in tone.

"Our current contestant stands in at thirty-one feet, three inches tall and clocks in at nearly sixteen thousand tons—it's the Giant Raptor, ladies and gentlemen! And the big guy is certainly putting on a show for us here today, folks. A light show, to be exact!" the Hub announced, the tone a mix of excitement and sarcasm.

"What the hell?" Stewart whispered, and, though the emblem was muffling the noise Junior could still hear that the young man was laughing.

"Hub, seriously?" Mendez muttered, though her annoyance was thinly veiled by amusement.

Junior’s emblem projection flickered to life, stretching across the wall of the hotel in front of him. To his disbelief, the red laser light projection now resembled a TV sports broadcast, complete with digital overlays. An animated scoreboard appeared in the top corner, showing health bars for the raptor’s core and each of its three legs. The area on the central core, where the lights had converged, was highlighted by a blinking circle.

Stats on the raptor's height, weight, and "defense rating" scrolled across the bottom of the screen like a sports ticker, along with phrases like "Stage 2—Get Ready!" flashing in bold letters.

"It was a weak point!" Stewart's voice came over the comms, excitement barely contained. He and Chen were clearly being shown the same thing on their side of the street.

Meanwhile, to his left, Mendez’s visor lit up in a kaleidoscope of colors. Junior could only guess what kind of data her HUD was showing—probably more useful information than the over-the-top sports commentary he was getting.

From the other side of the street, Chen’s voice came through the comms. "You seeing this, Mendez?"

"I am," Mendez said, her tone thoughtful. "Maybe we should—"

"Folks, some of our stats geeks are speculating that this area here might be what’s known as a 'weak point'," the Hub interrupted, its announcer voice brimming with enthusiasm.

"Hey, I’m a nerd, not a geek!" Stewart's voice complained over the comms.

"There’s a difference?" Junior wondered out loud.

"Just shoot it!" Chen cut in, frustration creeping into his voice.

Junior heard the sharp crack of a shot—it was Chen’s rifle. He could tell the difference instantly. The precise, high-pitched crack of the Eagle was distinct compared to the heavier thud of the Hammerhead that Stewart was using. His heart quickened.

"And Chen with the first shot! Right on target!" the Hub announced, calling the action as though narrating a live game. "Folks, we’ve got some movement! The raptor’s core is reacting—another weak spot is beginning to glow!"

Junior peeked out from behind cover just in time to see the new glowing area pulsing on the raptor’s core, a smaller circle right above the first. "Another one!" he muttered, feeling the pressure rise.

Stewart fired next, the deep THOOM of his Hammerhead cutting through the air. Sparks flew as his shot hit home, the glowing spot flaring for a second before the raptor shuddered in response.

"That’s another hit, folks!" the Hub chimed in. "But watch out! Each of the legs is in motion!"

Junior’s eyes snapped to the raptor’s legs. He took a moment to map out the Hub’s labels in his mind, adjusting to the designations. The leg to their right—the one they’d blown the lower segment off of—was labeled Beta by the Hub.

The severed Beta limb was still functional, but its range of motion was severely limited, dragging awkwardly through the debris to maintain balance. It wasn’t useless, but the damaged structure barely supported part of the raptor’s immense weight. Alpha, the rear leg, shifted first, grinding against the asphalt as it curled inward for leverage. On the left, Gamma stretched out, its clawed tip gouging into the pavement as it dug in to stabilize the machine.

The raptor was struggling to lift itself, pulling its massive body upward inch by inch. The Alpha leg flexed, acting as a pillar under the core, momentarily taking on most of the weight. Beta scraped forward next, shifting to help redistribute the machine’s balance. Slowly, methodically, the raptor began to rise.

The ground trembled as Gamma slammed down, snapping into position to support the opposite side. The whole structure tilted slightly, uneven without the full length of Beta, but it was back on its feet—or nearly so. Chunks of concrete and twisted metal flew out from beneath the machine as it reclaimed its height.

Junior ducked instinctively as a shard of debris careened past him, slamming into the wall behind. The raptor’s core hovered above them now and Junior could see the body swaying as it steadied itself. "These things are flinging everything at us!" he growled, adjusting his grip on the Eagle as he watched the Gamma leg tear up the street like a jackhammer, sending chunks of asphalt into the air. The noise was deafening.

Mendez was next, taking her shot. The pulse from her rifle connected with the glowing spot on the core, and for a second, it looked like it would work—but the raptor shuddered again, a new circle of light beginning to form further up.

"Another shot, folks! Mendez with a direct hit! But it looks like this raptor’s putting up a fight!" the Hub’s voice was brimming with excitement, clearly loving the chaos.

"We’ve got another one!" Junior called out, quickly lining up his own shot. He squeezed the trigger, feeling the recoil surge through him as the bullet struck the glowing spot. The raptor reacted, this time more violently, and its legs began moving faster—The Alpha leg kicking out chunks of ground clutter, smashing anything in its path, while Gamma tore apart the remnants of a nearby car, flinging metal like shrapnel.

Junior ducked again, his heart racing. "This thing is not slowing down!"

"What's that?" Stewart shouted, his voice barely audible over the chaos.

"Hang on, everyone," the Hub interjected, its tone shifting from excitement to a more serious note. "Emblem, give them a close-up of that activity on the core."

Junior’s emblem projection shifted, zooming in on the raptor’s core. The glowing spots were now pulsing in a rhythmic pattern, the light growing brighter with each beat. The core itself was beginning to shift, the segmented plates of the machine’s body twisting and turning as segments began to retract. Junior counted seven sections, each one moving in a different direction, revealing a dark, hollow space within the raptor’s body.

"Defense Force, be advised," the Hub announced. "My initial scans confirm nine unknown units inside the raptor core. Engaging deeper analysis."

Junior's emblem pulsed, throwing up a projection of outlines—just rough monochrome shapes at first. But it was enough. His stomach knotted as he watched the segmented bodies unfolding, the airfoil-like wings stretching out with an eerie precision.

Chen’s voice came in through the emblem’s comms, cool and steady despite the chaos. "Stewart, Junior—those are wasps. The enemy's aerial unit. You don't want to be in their line of fire."

Junior’s mouth went dry. The images in his emblem projection updated, showing more detail, the configurations solidifying as the Hub pieced them together. Two pairs of elongated wings, connected segments forming sleek, predatory bodies. They looked even more dangerous now than the rough sketches he’d seen. "You’re saying these things fly?"

"This is our first time seeing them," Mendez muttered from beside him, her eyes locked on the raptor’s core. "The Army showed us an illustration. Chen is right, they fly and shoot."

"High powered projectiles," Chen added.

The sound came next—a low, almost imperceptible hum at first, but quickly building to a buzzing that made Junior’s skin crawl. He squinted, trying to get a closer look as the first wasp finished reconfiguring. Its wing-like appendages vibrated, creating that awful, insect-like sound, a noise that felt wrong on every level.

"What are we waiting for?" Stewart's voice said over the comms, "take them out before they can launch!"

Chen's response was immediate, firm. "No. Hold your fire. Trust me on this."

Junior's heart raced. The buzzing of the wasps grew louder, more insistent, and the urge to start shooting was almost overwhelming. "Chen, they're about to launch—"

"Just listen," Chen cut him off. "Mendez, Junior, you've got seconds. Move now. Get around the leg and join us."

Junior hesitated, glancing at the massive wreckage blocking the street. The wasps were almost ready, their wings vibrating faster, that awful buzz filling his ears.

"Run!" Chen's voice barked through the comms.

Junior didn't need to be told again. He grabbed Mendez by the arm, and they bolted for the fallen raptor leg, ducking beneath the debris as the first wasp lifted off. Once again, Junior had reason to be thankful for the Hub's leg brace.

The whine of its wings turned into a full-blown roar, echoing in the narrow street.

Just before they made it around the corner, Junior looked back—and saw the wasps rise into the sky.