When we handed the four squads their dynamite charges, we expected them to breach a single wall with minimal explosives and then collapse the hideout from within. But contrary to our assumptions, they were surprisingly proficient with the dynamites.
"I didn't expect them to breach from all four sides at once," Tom muttered as we trailed behind Team Adam. "Especially considering their usual tendency to conserve resources."
"Who do you think came up with the idea?" I replied, my voice low. "We might already have a natural leader among them."
The rest of the teams couldn't hear us thanks to the barrier Wally had cast around us. It allowed us to observe without leaking even a whisper of sound or spending unnecessary energy.
"But jokes aside," Tom continued, glancing at the squad's improvised gear, "we need to give them real weapons at some point. That shovel won't carry them forever… Unless you want to clone one of them. That would solve a lot of problems."
"…" I turned toward him with a slow smile, the kind that suggested I'd taken the joke far more seriously than he intended.
Tom exhaled sharply. "No, Raymond. Don't clone the kids. I was joking."
"I wouldn't," I said, lifting a finger as if lecturing him. "Even if you wanted me to. I don't have a permit for that. It's a crime to clone someone without proper authorization."
When Sergeant Rex ordered us to assist the humans on this planet, he never specified how we were supposed to do it. With everyone having their own interpretation of "help," it was inevitable that the idea of cloning soldiers would occur to someone sooner or later.
But taking such an unorthodox route would only lead to backlash down the line. I'd already ruled it out.
In the original version of the story, Samuel marched in alone and attempted to slaughter all the heretics himself. A bold plan, if not for the fact that he'd forgotten to account for inner corruption, which was precisely the second reason I had chosen a different approach.
Inner corruption can't be erased. At best, it can be contained. And the only way to do that is through a structured system, one that can monitor it, regulate it, and keep it from devouring the world completely.
"If they can take this hideout, we'll relocate a portion of the residents here and turn the site into a settlement after reconstruction," I said, scanning the dilapidated hall around us.
"Are you thinking of building another hive city? Like the main base?" Tom asked, eyebrows raised.
"Absolutely not," I replied immediately. "That design is horrendous. People deserve space, at the very least."
The humans here lacked magic and aura, because the planet's resources were too strained to sustain even the simplest forms. That meant we'd be stuck waiting at least a month, maybe more, before this place could be fully renovated after the takeover, unless we were to help.
As we followed the team deeper inside, we were greeted by tall, slender shapes that moved with an inhuman grace, things that danced along the corridors of the hideout.
They clung to the darkness, sliding across the walls like living shadows…
Before the team had even registered the threat, one of the creatures lunged. A flash, too fast for the naked eye, and the head of a soldier was severed cleanly from his shoulders. His body collapsed to the floor with a soft, almost gentle thud as the heretic vanished back into the black.
"Stay together!" T-3 barked, pulling the team into a tight defensive circle, back to back.
"They're not attacking in full force yet," one of the soldiers muttered, shovel raised defensively as he struck at shifting silhouettes. "That means they still think the angels might come save us… if all of us die here."
"That would mean they're planning to abandon this base!" shouted the soldier with the hat, eyes darting toward the far end of the corridor. Panic edged into his voice. "We can't stay here, we need to make a run for it!"
And run they did.
The moment the shadow lashed out again, the soldiers reacted on instinct, every shovel, knife, and makeshift weapon stabbed forward in a desperate synchronized thrust. They didn't wait to see if they'd hit anything. The instant their blades met resistance, they turned and sprinted down the corridor at full speed.
T-3 was the last to reach the exit. Just before he slammed the metal door shut, he tossed a grenade into the darkness. The pin clattered against the floor as he kicked the door closed and braced his entire weight against it.
BANG!
Something massive crashed against the other side, the force rattling hinges and pushing several soldiers back a step. They immediately threw themselves against the door, shoulder to shoulder, straining to keep it sealed.
BOOM!
The explosion shook dust from the ceiling. The pressure behind the door vanished instantly, swallowed by the blast.
Only then, only when silence settled, did the soldiers slowly pull away from the door, each of them trembling with the realization that the creature was finally dead.
"This is T-Alpha-15. We've reached the inner layer of the hideout, but two of our men are down. Status report, everyone?" The soldier in the hat spoke into his walkie-talkie, but only static answered him for several long, uneasy seconds.
"This is T-Adam-15… huff… we've reached the inner layer as well. Five men down, two heavily injured. Should we request backup?"
"This is T-Sirus-15. No hostiles encountered yet. We've linked up with T-Beta-15. Entering inner layer now, team is in perfect condition."
"This is bad," one of the soldiers murmured, anxiety creeping into his voice as he listened to the reports. "They didn't spread out like we planned… We might not have time before the heretics slip out."
T-3 snatched the walkie-talkie from the hat-wearing soldier and responded sharply, "T-Adam-15, fall back and hold the perimeter. They might be preparing to escape, intercept them if they do. T-Sirus-15, T-Beta-15, keep pushing inward. We'll join you shortly."
"Roger that," two voices replied at once, overlapping through the static.