The closer they got to the logistics sector, the worse it became.
The corridor ahead was no longer merely damaged, but butchered.
Chunks of flesh, armor fragments, and pieces of internal machinery were smeared across the walls and littered across the ground, scattered without pattern or dignity. Blood mixed with coolant and water from ruptured lines, formed slick reflective pools that caught the emergency lights and turned them into warped mirrors.
The sounds reached them before the sight fully resolved.
Explosions thundered in irregular bursts, close enough that Jaune felt them in his chest. Bladed impacts rang out, metal shrieking against metal, followed by the hollow concussions of Archer shots detonating inside confined spaces. Screams cut through everything else, desperate and sharp, while some appeared to be cut short mid cry.
They sprinted faster and by the time they broke into the logistics block proper, the scene exploded into full clarity.
Chaos danced in the air.
The logistics sector was a broad storage hall which was now segmented by blast doors courtesy of Penny. This place had reinforced shelving units designed to house LUCID weapons, modular tech assemblies, and experimental equipment awaiting deployment or testing. Now those shelves were shattered and crates lay overturned with their contents spilled across the floor in tangled heaps of metal, arrays, and broken housings.
At the center of it all, the fight raged.
Two Archer Centurions anchored the rear with their weapons roaring as they fired into the defensive line. Each shot sent shockwaves through the hall, tearing apart cover and detonating storage crates that were never meant to endure that kind of force. Shrapnel screamed through the air, embedding itself into walls and dead bodies alike.
Two Gladius Centurions pushed forward relentlessly.
Their spider like limbs hammered the ground as they advanced, and blades glowing as they carved through barriers and slammed into awakened defenders. One Gladius lay motionless off to the side, its frame broken and twisted, evidence that the defenders had already paid dearly to bring even one of them down.
Only four awakened operatives held the line, here.
One stood at the front, sword in hand, every swing sending crescent shaped arcs of cutting energy screaming through the air. The few slashes that weren't deflected bit into Centurion armor, and carved glowing scars across their reinforced plating, forcing them to stagger back a step at a time. It was not enough to stop them outright, but it bought precious moments.
Behind him, another operative maintained a shield of layered force, its surface rippling violently with every impact. A third launched bursts of kinetic energy that slammed into Centurion joints, trying to slow their advance. The fourth focused on covering fire, striking with precision whenever a weakness appeared.
Base turrets added their fire from every available angle.
Wall panels split open as automated weapons emerged, spitting bullets and lancing beams of coherent energy into the fray. The air filled with tracer lines and flashes of light. Each turret lasted only seconds before being destroyed, but each second mattered.
Behind the defenders, unawakened LUCID staff huddled behind broken blast doors and hastily erected shields. Their faces were pale, eyes wide as they clutched one another or pressed themselves into corners, praying that the barricade would hold.
It was... barely holding.
Jaune took it all in within a heartbeat and immediately acted.
He reached out with his meta rune and targeted the same vulnerabilities as he had done with the group from before.
Weapons and joints.
The molecular structure of the Archer cannons unraveled first. The barrels softened and sagged, before collapsing into flowing metal that splashed across the floor. The Archers fired once more before their systems failed, shots going wide as their weapons disintegrated mid cycle.
The Gladius Centurions stumbled next.
Jaune weakened the joints of their forward limbs, just enough. One lost its footing entirely, crashing into a pile of shattered crates as two of its legs dissolved into slurry. The other staggered, one blade losing cohesion and dripping away like molten wax before it hit the ground.
The effect rippled through the battlefield.
The awakened defenders froze for the briefest instant, shock flashing across their faces as the Centurions faltered without warning.
Then instinct kicked in.
They surged forward.
The sword wielder unleashed a flurry of cutting arcs, each strike biting deeper now that the machines could not fully defend themselves. Another operative drove a concentrated blast into the collapsed Gladius, rupturing its torso and pinning it to the floor. A turret fired point blank into the exposed rear of an Archer unit, tearing through internal systems in a spray of sparks and molten metal.
The Centurions tried to recover, yet they could not.
Within seconds, the remaining machines were reduced to broken heaps as their systems sputtered and died under relentless assault. The awakened operatives didn't stop until nothing else moved. A trace of desperation clung to their expressions.
Yet, silence still fell hard.
The echoes of battle faded, leaving only the hiss of damaged systems and the distant wail of alarms bleeding in from other parts of the base.
Jaune lowered his hand.
The drain was... still problematic. He had around 10% of his reserves left, which meant that it was going to be a bit of an issue to disable any more Centurions.
The defenders turned toward him.
Recognition dawned on Jaune's face as he met the eyes of the man at the front.
This was the same team they had encountered in the Dream Realm two days ago during patrol with Winter. The leader/sword wielder in particular stood out, his style unmistakable even outside the nightmare cityscape.
"You're..." the man said, staring at Wiess, Jaune and Blake with something between disbelief and relief. "You're Weiss Schnee..."
Weiss nodded. "Yes."
There was no time for more.
She stepped forward quickly, voice firm and efficient as she gave them a rapid rundown of the situation. Watts had compromised the Centurions. The base was under coordinated assault. Other sectors were still engaged. Pietro was coordinating what he could, but time was critical.
The leader listened intently, jaw clenched.
"We'll secure this area," he said when Weiss finished. "We can get the staff out and establish a fallback position at the Command Room."
"Good," Jaune replied. "More Centurions are hitting the eastern research wing. Fourteen units or so. They're holding for now, but they won't forever."
The man's eyes hardened. "Then... don't keep them waiting."
Jaune didn't.
He turned to leave—Weiss and Blake already at his side, focused despite the carnage they had just passed through.
They broke into a sprint once more.
Behind them, the defenders moved with renewed purpose, ushering unawakened staff away from the battlefield and preparing for whatever came next.
The air in the eastern research wing was hot. Heavier and thick with dust and the bitter tang of burned metal. The steady rhythm of alarms fractured into overlapping tones as different subsystems screamed their warnings at once. Structural failure. Power instability. Emergency containment protocols flickered between active and compromised.
Penny floated closer to Jaune's shoulder, her glow dimming slightly as her processing focus narrowed. "The Centurions are dispersed throughout this sector," she reported. "They have breached multiple defensive checkpoints and are prioritizing personnel clusters."
Jaune felt the weight of those words settle in his chest.
"Have any of them been killed?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"No, there are still fourteen active units." Penny replied.
Jaune exhaled through his nose. This was a difficult obstacle for Jaune.
His Aura reserves could only support disabling half of them at most.
That meant half of them would have to be dealt with without his rune tipping the scales. It meant blades, timing, coordination, and endurance. It meant blood.
The eastern research wing was worse than the logistics sector in every conceivable way.
Here, destruction was not confined to shattered crates and ruined equipment. The very structure of the base had been compromised. Entire sections of the floor had collapsed inward, leaving a jagged chasm that dropped into darkness below. Twisted beams and exposed conduits hung like broken ribs along the edges, sparking intermittently as power surged and failed in uneven pulses.
Jaune hadn't even known there were lower levels beneath this wing.
Now he could see them.
Below the broken floor, emergency lights flickered weakly across smashed laboratories and overturned workstations. Smoke rose from unseen fires, drifting upward through the open wound in the structure. The smell of scorched plastic and ruptured insulation burned his nostrils.
The Centurions had adapted to the terrain.
Archer units clung to the ceiling, their mechanical limbs embedded into reinforced plating as they hung inverted like monstrous steel insects. From that vantage point, they rained fire downward, shots hammering into defensive positions and shields, blowing apart cover with brutal precision. Each blast sent debris raining down into the lower levels, compounding the devastation.
Gladius Centurions roamed the upper floor, blades flashing as they engaged awakened operatives in close quarters combat. Their movements were relentless, calculated and pushing defenders toward compromised ground, forcing them to split their attention between enemies and environmental collapse.
Jaune spotted the group he had split from earlier almost immediately.
They were holding a defensive arc near what remained of a reinforced research hub, working in tight coordination. Shields flared and collapsed. Energy attacks hammered into Centurion armor. A coordinated strike nearly reached one of the Archers, only for a Gladius Centurion to intercept at the last second, its blades flashing as it deflected the blow meant to cripple the ranged unit.
The Archers supported one another seamlessly.
Whenever one was threatened, the others adjusted their firing angles, creating overlapping fields of suppression that forced attackers back. Their shots tore into the environment with deliberate cruelty, collapsing walkways and blasting chunks of floor away to limit maneuverability.
Despite the intensity, something stood out.
There weren't any bodies.
The defenders were battered and exhausted, but alive.
Relief flickered through Jaune for the briefest moment.
Then the floor screamed.
A section of damaged plating near the far end of the wing finally gave way under repeated Archer fire. The reinforced surface shattered, collapsing inward in a violent cascade of metal and debris.
Several unawakened researchers who had been scrambling for cover were caught directly beneath it.
The impact was catastrophic.
Jaune saw it in fragments. A flash of white lab coats. Hands reaching. The sudden, brutal silence that followed as bodies were crushed into the lower level, reduced to mangled shapes beneath tons of collapsing structure.
The anger hit him like a physical force.
It surged up from his gut like a hot and sharp vomit, burning away hesitation and fatigue alike. His weakness sense flared violently, mapping every Archer Centurion in the space with ruthless clarity.
Enough.
Jaune unleashed his rune.
He targeted the Archers with absolute focus, pouring what remained of his weakening power directly into the structural integrity of their limbs and weapons.
The molecular bonds holding their ceiling anchored legs together unraveled.
Metal softened.
Grip failed.
The Archers lost cohesion all at once.
As their holds dissolved, gravity reclaimed them.
Jaune, Weiss and Blake moved to intercept.
The three of them launched upward in near perfect synchronization, propelled by their physical might and momentum, closing the distance before the Centurions could compensate. Weiss's blade flashed as she carved into exposed systems, freezing components solid before shattering them apart. Blake's katana struck with surgical precision, severing weakened joints and tearing through destabilized armor.
Jaune drove his blades into the core of the first Archer, twisting hard as its internal systems collapsed under the combined assault. The second fell moments later, dragged down by its own failing limbs as Weiss and Blake dismantled it piece by piece.
The third Archer tried to fire even as it fell.
The shot went wide.
Jaune brought his sword down and ended it.
Below them, the Gladius Centurion that had been guarding the Archers was still locked in combat, surrounded and pressured by the other operatives. It could not break away in time. By the time it attempted to reposition, its support was already gone.
The battlefield shifted.
Without the Archer fire raining death from above, the awakened operatives surged forward with renewed ferocity. Attacks that had been suppressed moments earlier now struck home. The remaining Gladius Centurions were forced onto the defensive, their formation breaking as they were pushed back from the collapsed floor.
Jaune landed hard, skidding across scorched plating.
His Aura was nearly empty. He could feel it clearly now. There was nothing left to give, which meant there was no more disarming strikes powered by his meta ability.
Only steel and resolve remained.
The Gladius Centurions turned toward him, blades humming as their targeting systems recalibrated.
Jaune tightened his grip on weapons.
Around him, Weiss and Blake shifted into position without a word. The other operatives regrouped quickly, forming a loose perimeter, weapons raised and expressions set with grim determination.
This was it. This was the line.
The remaining Gladius Centurions advanced.
.
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AN: Advanced chapters are available on patreon