[ LOCATION: SECTOR 4 - THE IRON VAULT (B2) ]
[ TIME UNTIL BREACH: 00:00:15 ]
The silence in the vault was heavier than the steel door.
It wasn't a true silence. It was a pressurized stillness, the kind that exists in the split second before a structural collapse. The air was thick, tasting of copper, ozone, and the heavy, musky scent of their recent intimacy.
Viktor Kaelen stood motionless in the center of the room. He was a statue of modern war, though his gear was scavenged and mismatching. His Ripstop Tactical Cargos were stiff with dried blood and the sticky residue of his own fluids, the fabric chafing against his sensitized skin with every micro-movement.
He didn't care. His world had narrowed down to a single point of data.
In his right hand, the Desert Eagle Mark XIX felt like an extension of his skeletal structure. It was heavy—four pounds of machined Israeli steel—but the balance was perfect. He ran his thumb over the slide, feeling the cold bite of the metal.
One round.
He checked the chamber. The brass casing of the .50 Action Express Armor-Piercing round glinted in the red emergency light. It was a massive slug, a specialized projectile designed to punch through engine blocks.
'Cost: 500 Sin Points,' Viktor thought, his internal voice shifting into [Algorithmic Mode]. 'Value: Infinite. This isn't just a bullet; it is a portable physics equation. Mass times acceleration equals the permanent deletion of biological matter.'
CREAAAK.
The sound came from the massive circular blast door. It wasn't opening; it was bending.
Viktor watched, his face impassive behind his rimless glasses. The upper hinge, already compromised by rust and the earlier explosion, was groaning under immense pressure. The steel plate around the bolts was stretching, the paint flaking off in a slow, metallic snow.
[ TACTICAL OVERLAY: ACTIVE ]
A blue wireframe grid superimposed itself over Viktor's vision. It scanned the door, highlighting stress fractures in angry pulsating red.
Target Obstruction: Class-3 Steel Vault Door.
Structural Integrity: 12%... 10%...
External Force: ~4.2 Tons.
Conclusion: The lock isn't failing. The wall is.
"Anya," Viktor said. His voice was low, devoid of the heat that had filled it moments ago. It was the voice of the Commander. "Position check."
To his left, Anya Vostrov shifted her stance. She was a towering figure of violence. The Steel Cuirass strapped to her bare chest gleamed dully in the strobe light. Her blonde hair was matted with sweat and grime, hanging loose around her shoulders. She held the jagged length of concrete-encrusted rebar like a baseball bat.
She didn't look at him. Her golden eyes were locked on the gap forming between the door and the frame.
"Ready," she grunted.
Her voice was steady, but Viktor could see the tremor in her hands. It wasn't fear. It was the Mana Hypothermia fading, replaced by the adrenaline dump of the [Euphoric Afterglow]. She was high on the chemical cocktail of sex and violence.
"The breach will be high," Viktor analyzed. "It's coming through the top hinge. It's an ambush predator. It will cling to the ceiling."
"I'll ground it," Anya replied, her knuckles whitening on the iron bar.
PING.
A bolt, thick as a man's forearm, sheared off the upper hinge. It shot across the room like a bullet, embedding itself in the far wall with a puff of concrete dust.
SKREEEE!
The shriek was deafening. It wasn't just noise; it was a physical assault on the eardrums. The door groaned one last time, then tipped forward, hanging precariously by the bottom hinge.
Darkness poured in.
It wasn't empty darkness. It was a living, shifting shadow.
[ ENEMY DETECTED ]
Designation: Void-Stalker
Rank: Tier 2 (Predator)
Level: 10
HP: 850/1200 (Damaged)
Traits: [Shadow-Step], [Obsidian Carapace], [Razor Claws].
The monster pulled itself through the gap. It moved with a sickening, liquid fluidity, like oil spilling uphill. It had six limbs, each ending in a serrated scythe of black chitin. Its head was a featureless smooth dome of bone, devoid of eyes, housing only a vertical mouth filled with needle-like teeth.
It clicked, sensing the heat in the room. It smelled the blood. It smelled the cum.
'It smells the life on us,' Viktor realized. 'It's hungry.'
The creature coiled on the ceiling of the vault entrance, its carapace absorbing the red strobe light. It hissed, a sound like steam escaping a valve.
"NOW!" Viktor roared.
[ MODE: BALLISTIC ]
Anya moved.
She didn't run; she exploded. She launched herself off her back foot, the concrete floor cracking under the force of her Combat Boots. She was a missile of silver steel and pale skin.
"Raaagh!"
She swung the heavy rebar.
The Void-Stalker was fast, but Anya was desperate. The iron bar connected with the creature's midsection just as it leaped.
CRUNCH.
The impact sounded like a car hitting a brick wall. The monster shrieked, its chitin cracking under the blunt force trauma. The blow knocked it out of the air, sending it spiraling into the center of the vault.
It landed on its feet, its claws gouging deep furrows into the floor. SKRIT.
It spun instantly, lashing out with a forelimb.
Anya couldn't dodge. She twisted, presenting her armored side.
CLANG!
The claw raked across her Steel Cuirass. Sparks showered the room. The force of the blow lifted her off her feet and threw her backward. She hit a stack of safety deposit boxes, the metal drawers crumpling around her.
"Anya!"
"Shoot it!" she screamed, spitting blood.
The Void-Stalker ignored her. It turned its eyeless head toward Viktor. It sensed the threat. It sensed the Entropy.
It coiled its legs, preparing to pounce.
Viktor didn't move. He didn't flinch. He stood perfectly still, his heart rate forcibly slowed by the System.
[ MODE: ALGORITHMIC ]
Time slowed down. The world turned into a grid of green and red lines.
Viktor raised the Desert Eagle. He didn't aim with his eyes; he aimed with the [Tactical Overlay].
Target Velocity: 0 m/s (Stationary - Pre-Jump).
Distance: 4.2 meters.
Windage: Negligible.
Armor Thickness: 40mm Chitin (Obsidian Class).
Weak Point: Central Thorax Cluster (Behind the upper plating).
A red crosshair bloomed in his vision, hovering over the center of the monster's chest.
'Probability of Penetration: 98%.'
'Hydrostatic Shock Potential: Lethal.'
The monster leaped. It was a blur of black blades.
Viktor exhaled. He squeezed the trigger.
[ MODE: BALLISTIC ]
THOOM!
The recoil was massive. The heavy gun kicked back to ninety degrees, nearly wrenching Viktor's wrist.
The muzzle flash lit the vault with the brightness of a supernova.
The .50 Caliber AP Round left the barrel at 470 meters per second. It crossed the four meters of space in less than a blink of an eye.
It met the Void-Stalker in mid-air.
The impact was absolute.
SPLAT.
The armor-piercing tip punched through the obsidian chitin like it was wet cardboard. It entered the creature's chest cavity. Then, physics took over.
The bullet mushroomed. The kinetic energy—over 2000 joules—dumped instantly into the creature's semi-liquid internal organs.
The result was a Hydrostatic Event.
The Void-Stalker didn't just die; it detonated. Its back exploded outward in a spray of black ichor and shattered carapace. The force of the shot arrested its forward momentum entirely, slamming it backward as if it had been hit by a truck.
It hit the floor. THUD.
It twitched once. Twice. Then dissolved into a puddle of black sludge.
[ MODE: ATMOSPHERIC ]
Silence rushed back into the room, ringing loudly in Viktor's ears.
Smoke curled from the barrel of the Desert Eagle, smelling of burnt sulfur. The red emergency light continued its indifferent rhythm. Flash... Dark.
Viktor lowered the gun. His arms were shaking again. The adrenaline was fading, leaving behind the cold reality of their situation.
"Target... neutralized," he wheezed.
Anya groaned from the pile of debris. Clatter. She pushed a crumpled safety deposit box off her legs and sat up. Her armor was slashed, three deep grooves running diagonally across the steel breastplate. If she hadn't been wearing it...
"Good shot," she coughed, wiping blood from her lip.
Viktor walked over to the black puddle. He knelt down, careful not to touch the corrosive ichor with his bare skin.
Ding!
A holographic screen appeared over the corpse.
[ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ]
Enemy Defeated: Void-Stalker (Lvl 10).
XP Gained: 1200.
XP Split: [Neural Bond] active (50/50).
Viktor: +600 XP.
Anya: +600 XP.
[ LEVEL UP! ]
Viktor Kaelen is now Level 2.
+5 Stat Points Unassigned.
[ LOOT DETECTED ]
[Void Core (Small)] - Crafting Material.
[Obsidian Shard] - Junk/Crafting.
Viktor reached into the sludge. He felt something hard and warm. He pulled it out.
It was a Void Core. A pulsating, purple gemstone the size of a walnut. It hummed in his hand, vibrating with dark energy.
'Resource Analysis,' Viktor thought. 'Void Cores can be sold to the Merchant for 1000 Credits. Or... they can be refined into ammo.'
He pocketed the gem.
"Can you walk?" he asked, turning to Anya.
She stood up, wincing. She tested her weight. She was battered, bruised, and covered in dust, but the Mana Hypothermia was completely gone. The sex had rebooted her internal furnace. She was warm, flushed, and alive.
"I'm combat effective," she said, picking up her rebar. She looked down at herself. The Steel Cuirass on her bare skin was uncomfortable, shifting against her breasts with every movement.
"We need to move," Viktor said, his voice flat. "The gunshot will draw every Glitch-Walker on the floor."
He walked to the vault entrance, stepping over the dissolving remains of the stalker. He peered out into the corridor.
The B1 Hallway was dark, lit only by the flickering sparks of a severed cable. The air here was colder, smelling of rot.
"Where are we going?" Anya asked, moving to his flank. She walked with a slight stiffness in her hips—a lingering reminder of the sheer volume he had pumped into her.
Viktor adjusted his glasses. A map flickered in his HUD.
"Up," he said. "The Lobby. We need to reach the surface before the Death Wave hits at midnight."
He pointed to a heavy fire door at the end of the hall.
"The Stairwell," he said. "The Echo Chamber."
[ SCENE BREAK ]
They moved through the hallway, hugging the walls. The floor was littered with the debris of the old world—briefcases, high heels, coffee cups.
They reached the fire door. It was painted a peeling industrial green.
Viktor put his hand on the push bar. He paused.
'Sound Tactics,' he thought. 'Stairwells are acoustic traps. If we fire a gun in there, we'll deafen ourselves. If we scream, everything in the building will hear us.'
He looked at Anya. She nodded, understanding the silent command. Melee only. Stealth protocols.
Viktor pushed the door open.
Creak...
The air that hit them was stale and dusty. The stairwell spiral went up into the darkness, illuminated only by the faint, sickly green glow of the emergency exit signs on each landing.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Viktor stepped onto the first landing. He looked up the central shaft.
Far above, roughly four floors up, he heard a sound.
Glitch... bzzzt... screech.
It sounded like a dial-up modem screaming in pain.
'Glitch-Walkers,' Viktor analyzed. 'Tier 1 zombies. Slow. Stupid. But they travel in packs.'
He glanced at Anya. She tightened her grip on the rebar.
"Quietly," Viktor whispered.
They began the climb.