Silas gestured, indicating he would take the left guard. Mo Chen nodded, focusing on the right. She didn't draw a weapon. She summoned her fire.
This was not the controlled stream of [Immolate]. This was the raw, focused application of her [Minor Pyrokinesis], refined through weeks of constant use. A tiny, superheated ember, no larger than a pinhead, materialized at her fingertip. With a flick of her will, she sent it flying.
It struck the guard on the right squarely in the neck, just above his body armor. There was no explosion, just a sizzle and a smell of burnt meat. He crumpled without a sound, his nervous system instantly fried.
Simultaneously, Silas's guard dropped from a single, silenced round to the head.
They moved quickly. Silas covered the entrance while Mo Chen approached the Black Box. The door was secured with a biometric lock and a keypad. She placed her hands on the cold metal. Her [Thermal Sense] couldn't penetrate it, but she could feel the vibration of the machinery inside.
She didn't have time to crack the code. So, she applied a universal key.
She placed both hands on the lock and unleashed a sustained burst of [Immolate]. The metal around the lock glowed cherry red, then white, before melting and dripping to the floor. With a shove, she forced the warped door open.
Inside, a single, isolated server hummed. She plugged in a portable hard drive Silas had provided and initiated the data transfer. Gigabytes of secrets began flowing into her possession.
Then, the alarms blared. The silent alarm on the Black Box had been triggered.