Jaune was huffing by the time he arrived. Sweat clung to his hair and soaked into his collar.
Behind him, the corridor told the story for him.
Warped blast doors lay half-broken against the walls. Centurion bodies that were no longer bodies so much as collapsed suggestions of metal, broken apart at joints that should never have failed, and armor peeled like wet clay. Runic conduits had unraveled into dead filaments that sparked weakly before going dark.
Jaune barely looked at them anymore.
At some point, counting had stopped mattering and his Aura reserves had run dry.
Now all that remained was his Body stat and his Will stat—thankfully still having the power of Pietro's sacrifice— However, both were being wrung out like soaked cloth.
The lab entrance loomed ahead.
Jaune staggered the last few steps forward, shoes skidding on flooring, both swords hanging uselessly at his side. His rune sat quiet, leaving only the passive aspect of it alive.
He lifted his head and froze.
The lab entrance was quiet.
No Weiss or even Blake for that matter. No Centurions either. No scattered debris, scorch marks or signs of a struggle large enough to match the dread blooming in his chest.
Just emptiness.
And at the center of the open floor, resting where they should'nt have been, lay a pair of mechanical legs.
Jaune's heart lurched.
"No," he muttered, voice hoarse. "No, no, no."
He stepped forward, feet heavy, each footfall echoing louder than it should have. His eyes scanned the space again, desperately trying to make sense of it.
"Blake?" he called out.
The word bounced off the walls and came back with nothing.
"Weiss?" His throat tightened around the name.
Still nothing.
Penny's voice chimed softly in his ear, filtered and tense. "Jaune. Blake Belladonna's signal was last recorded at this location."
Jaune swallowed and forced himself to move. His gaze dropped to the floor near the legs, and his chest tightened further.
A phone.
Blake's phone.
It lay face down, its screen cracked, smeared with a few dark spots that glistened wetly under the lab lights.
Blood.
Not much. But enough.
Jaune's fingers curled into a fist so tightly that his nails bit into his palm. Panic tried to claw its way up his spine, but he forced it down, locked it behind clenched teeth and iron focus.
Fear wouldn't help them.
He scooped up the legs first, handling them with care despite the tremor in his arms. They were heavier than they looked, synthetic skin cool and intact, metal beneath humming faintly with dormant power.
"Just to confirm, is this your lower body?" Jaune asked.
"Yes. It is."
"Good."
Then he grabbed Blake's phone and shoved it into his pocket before stepping into the lab proper.
Inside, the air felt colder.
The overhead lights flickered unevenly, casting long shadows across overturned tables and shattered equipment. And there, near the center of the room, lay Penny's upper half.
Intact and motionless.
Beside her rested another phone.
Weiss's.
Jaune exhaled slowly, forcing himself to think instead of spiral.
"This can't have been the work of Centurions," he said quietly.
Penny's voice responded immediately. "I agree. The damage pattern and absence of debris do not align with known Centurion combat behaviors."
Jaune crouched beside Penny's upper body, setting the legs down next to her. "Right... Weiss and Blake aren't weak, either." he continued, voice firm despite the knot in his chest. "They could handle all three Centurion types if they had to. And if they couldn't. They could always run."
He looked around again, eyes narrowing. "So... whatever did this took them fast and clean."
He paused, then asked, "Penny. Were there any Centurion models created using Rank Two parameters?"
There was a brief delay before Penny answered, her tone more subdued. "No. As far as my records indicate, I am the only entity operating at Rank Two compatibility. And even I, cannot be classified as a Centurion. Technically."
Jaune grimaced. "That's what I thought."
He straightened slowly, joints protesting. "Watts has been pulling things out of places he shouldn't be able to reach. I wouldn't put it past him to try something like that."
Penny's voice softened slightly. "Creating a Rank Two combat unit without access to the Mimic Creation rune would be extraordinarily difficult."
"Yeah," Jaune muttered. "So... I can't have been it, right? But... Weiss said there was a new variant of some sort..."
He stared at the lab wall, mind racing. "Which means one of two things. Either Watts found a workaround we don't know about. Or…"
He didn't finish the sentence.
Penny did for him. "Some Rank Two individual that is in cahoots with Watts intervened."
Jaune nodded slowly. "Someone strong enough to overwhelm both of them."
His jaw tightened. "But they're not dead."
Penny hesitated. "Your certainty is based on incomplete data."
"I know," Jaune said. "But there were no bodies and practically no residue."
His eyes flicked to the blood again. "If Watts wanted them dead, he would have left them here as a message."
Penny spoke more quietly. "You believe they were taken?"
"Yeah," Jaune said. "Kidnapped. For some reason. But... I don't know why."
He exhaled sharply. "And I don't like that reason."
Penny's tone shifted. "Jaune. We must act quickly. Please attach my lower body."
He knelt again and aligned the legs with her torso. The magnetic clasps engaged with a solid, reassuring click, locking together seamlessly. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then static flickered across his phone.
Penny's assembled body twitched.
Her fingers curled and her head lifted.
She sat up abruptly, orange hair swinging as she tested her joints with smooth, precise motions. She rolled her shoulders, flexed her legs, then stood.
Fully whole.
She looked down at herself, then at Jaune. "All systems nominal. Thank you."
Relief washed through him, brief but real.
Penny's gaze sharpened almost immediately afterward. "You should remain here. I will locate Arthur Watts and neutralize him."
Jaune shook his head. "Not happening."
"Jaune," Penny said carefully, "your Aura reserves are depleted. Weiss and Blake's status is unknown. It would be tactically unsound to—"
"They're my friends," Jaune cut in. "And Watts didn't just run away. I'm not sure why but... I have a feeling that he's testing me. Everything so far has been an odd series of coincidences. Me not being able to find any part of your body, only Weiss and Blake disappearing—well, it could have just been bad luck—but you get what I'm trying to say. Something about this is weird."
He stepped closer. "You said yourself. He's doing things he shouldn't have been able to do. If there's another Rank Two involved, then you might need backup."
Penny tilted her head. "You are no longer operating at full parameters."
Jaune met her gaze without flinching. "I don't need runes to stand."
For a moment, Penny simply studied him.
Then she nodded once. "Very well."
She stepped forward and wrapped one arm around him. "Hold on."
Before Jaune could respond, the world blurred.
Acceleration slammed into him like a tidal wave. The corridor stretched, folded, vanished. Wind roared past his ears, pressure crushing against his chest as Penny moved at speeds his perception could barely parse.
Centurion wreckage streaked by in flashes of twisted metal and broken doors. The path Jaune had carved moments ago now looked like the aftermath of a storm.
Then they veered.
A different route. Deeper. Wider.
They emerged into a vast chamber that stole Jaune's breath all over again.
It was enormous, easily the size of a stadium. Tiered platforms ringed the space, connected by gantries and suspended walkways. Conveyor systems lay idle, their cargo long since destroyed. It seemed as if, this, was the storage facility for the Centurions.
Further ahead they travelled, into a bigger and vaster chamber. It was white all around and somewhat resembled a simulation training room, however Jaune's weakness sense could feel the density and strength of this surrounding materials were beyond even what the regular base's materials were.
And at the far end, stood Arthur Watts.
He had a calm, almost reverent look to him.
Beside him loomed a massive cylinder of unknown metal, suspended from ceiling to floor. Three internal partitions rotated slowly within it, grinding against unseen forces before finally grinding to a halt.
Watts reached inside.
And pulled something out.
A flat, crystalline plate, translucent and faintly iridescent. In its center was a Rune whose glow was dim.
Fading.
Jaune's stomach dropped.
This was probably the mimic Creation rune. And it seemed that they had just arrived in time to witness Watts taking it.
The worst part was the look on his face.
Satisfaction.
Watts turned slowly, as if he had been expecting them all along.
The cavernous chamber swallowed the sound of Penny's arrival, its vastness drinking in the displaced air and leaving only a faint echo behind.
"Well," Arthur Watts said pleasantly, adjusting his posture as though welcoming guests into a parlor. "You've arrived just in time."
Penny set Jaune down with careful precision, her grip steady despite the violence of their approach. The moment his feet touched the ground, her stance shifted.
Her arms unfolded.
Metal flowed and reconfigured, plates sliding apart as glowing energy conduits surged into place. In less than a second, both arms had transformed into massive energy cannon barrels, humming with terrifying power. The light building within them cast long reflections across the chamber floor.
"Surrender, Arthur Watts," Penny said, her voice calm and even. "If you do not comply, I will fire."
Watts glanced at the barrels, then at the crystalline plate in his hand. The fading rune at its center pulsed weakly, like a dying ember.
A smile crept across his face.
"And blow it up with me?" he asked mildly. "Surely not?"
Penny didn't hesitate. "It would be preferable to allowing you to retain possession of the Mimic Creation Rune."
The hum in her cannons deepened, pressure building.
Watts' smile turned into a frown.
It was subtle, just a slight tightening at the corners of his mouth, a fractional crease between his brows. But it was there.
Watts said nothing.
Jaune's weakness sense, stirred uneasily.
Arthur Watts' runic energy was moving and revolving.
Jaune's breath hitched.
"Penny," he started, the warning clawing its way up his throat.
Space beside Watts rippled.
At first, Jaune thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, that the light itself had warped under the pressure of whatever Watts had activated. Then the distortion resolved into form.
Something stepped out of nothing.
The thing's proportions were disturbingly precise. Its surface was a smooth, seamless dark gray metal, devoid of markings, or visible access points. There were no features either, just a smooth, blank plane where an expression or a face should have been.
In its hands, it held Weiss and Blake.
Their bodies hung limp, arms dangling uselessly, heads tilted at unnatural angles. Weiss' beautiful silver-white hair spilled over one arm, her face pale but unmarred. Blake's head lolled slightly to the side, and Jaune's chest tightened as he saw a thin line of blood trailing from her temple, dark against her skin.
Jaune felt something inside him fracture.
Watts turned his head slightly, gesturing toward the android as if introducing a colleague.
"And blow them up too?" he asked lightly. "Surely you wouldn't do that either."
Jaune's teeth ground together.
So that was it.
This thing.
This was what had taken them.
Up close, the truth was unmistakable. It was dense. Dense in a way that went beyond reinforced armor or layered runic protection.
This thing was operating at Rank Two capability.
Just like Penny.
Or close enough that the distinction barely mattered.
Jaune's mind raced, piecing together fragments he wished he did not understand.
Centurions were crude by comparison. Modular and predictable. Built around limitations. This was something else entirely. Its structure was tight and elegant and its energy flow was smooth and contained. There was no excess or waste.
It wasn't a Centurion.
Which meant Watts had done the impossible.
He had created a Rank Two combat entity without the Mimic Creation Rune. He had used a Rank 2 awakened operative's body to do this, too. Using it as raw material. Well... probably. Centurions were made from the remains of Rank 1 awakened, so it would make sense that this one was made from a Rank 2.
Except... what concerned Jaune even more, wasn't the new Centurion. No, what concerned him was that Watt's runic energy was still revolving.
.
.