The combatants of Squad 5A9 regrouped, ready for a second round.
Kean scrambled from cover, careful not to disturb Anastasia's jury-rigged wiring. He drew his sidearm, exhaling sharply.
"Okay. So we're actually doing this, huh? Great."
From the hallway, Adam's serpent sniper rifle nuzzle flared once—its suppressed report slicing through the air. The round tore through the entrance and clipped the Seneschal's shoulder—sparks and dark colored blood spat out, and a flicker of bone was shown before being sealed. The Stygian staggered, releasing a guttural, metallic vibration—more felt than heard.
"Hit confirmed," Adam muttered. "But I think I just pissed him off."
The Seneschal twisted. His mask turned toward Adam's corridor. One of the rods on his back pulsed—and the wall separating them didn't explode, but folded inward, collapsing like paper under invisible pressure.
Gilbert surged forward again, twin swords spinning in tight arcs, trying to intercept before Adam took a second shot. His serpent rifle fired mid-dash, driving the Seneschal out of the apartment unit.
William followed a heartbeat later—his Earthdrake power armor venting steam as he launched himself into the air. The low gravity amplified his leap, spear glowing crimson as he descended like a meteor.
The Seneschal's barrier shattered under the force, but the hit missed—he twisted mid-air, redirecting momentum into a retreating glide.
Before he could regain footing, two searing streams of fire licked toward him. Vivian had exited the apartment, flamethrower modules glowing white-hot as flames poured from her gauntlets.
Behind the inferno, the air shimmered—distorted like waves rising off an invisible sun. Sparks rained, metal groaned, and the ground trembled. The housing unit and corridor warped subtly beneath the strain of unleashed energy.
A stray metal shard, flung by the pressure wave, shot through the air—crashing into Anastasia's shoulder.
She grunted sharply but didn't look away from the terminal.
Gilbert's head snapped toward the unit, but he couldn't afford any distractions as he refocused on the Seneschal.
"Ana! Are you okay?" Gilbert shouted across the comms.
She didn't answer right away. Her jaw clenched. Her fingers never stopped moving.
"Sixty percent," she finally replied through gritted teeth. "Almost there. Hold him off."
Her hand trembled.
Blood floated in weightless globules near the gash in her arm. Her new Metaldragon Mechanic Suit hissed, locking down and sealing the breach with a flash of violet polymer.
"I've got it—just a little more…" Anastasia thought, refusing to stop.
Outside, chaos.
The Seneschal gripped a new rod from his back—it hissed, expanded into a twin-bladed energy spear, humming with lethal charge. With the remaining rods, he launched forward, propelling himself with a violent burst of repulsion energy.
His blade slammed into Gilbert.
Gilbert dropped to one knee, holding both swords across his chest as the Seneschal bore down on him. Sparks flew as energy scorched metal. The pressure nearly split his blades.
Then—
CRACK!
Adam's rifle roared from the hallway, a single round striking the Seneschal's shoulder. The Stygian staggered, a metallic grunt resonating through the walls.
"Hit confirmed," Adam called out. "But I think I just pissed him off."
The Seneschal twisted.
One rod snapped outward and fired a pulse—not explosive, but crushing. The entire wall between him and Adam folded like tinfoil under invisible force.
Gilbert surged forward again, twin blades slashing in a storm of arcs as his serpent rifle auto-fired from his back. Sparks and plasma filled the hallway.
William came crashing into the Stygian's side, like a raging bull, the Earthdrake armor's extra weight sending him stumbling. Then came his spear lit crimson as it struck.
The Seneschal's barrier finally shattered, but he slipped free again—until—
FWOOSH!
Vivian emerged behind him, twin flamethrowers igniting the corridor in a hellstorm of fire. The air shimmered with distortion, bending under the weight of raw heat and energy.
The housing unit trembled.
Metal screeched.
The Seneschal was staggering now.
Sparks gushed from his broken rig. Two of his six glowing lenses had gone dark. Obsidian armor once regal was now cracked, leaking thick smoke. But he moved still—with inhuman savagery.
Gilbert's HUD screamed warnings. Bio-engine heat rising. Muscle strain. Suit stress is nearing failure.
His swords were chipped. His flight unit spat sparks. His ammo count blinked empty.
He didn't stop.
He couldn't.
The Seneschal spun, striking with a crackling kinetic blade. William barely dodged. Vivian, limping, fired one last desperate burst.
And then—
It happened.
Gilbert's vision shimmered. His limbs felt light, like thought and instinct were one.
A strange hum began echoing in his chest.
RADION LEVEL: 202.
He didn't see it. Didn't even realize.
But the system did.
The spike pushed him past the barrier that separated regular Knights from High Knights. He moved faster, clearer. Time seemingly slowed in vision.
His swords reignited—one wrapped in unstable white lightning, the other flickering red-hot, breaking down under strain.
He launched.
The Seneschal turned too late.
One blade slashed upward. The second cleaved across.
The headless body twitched once… then went still.
The porcelain mask shattered mid-spin, revealing scarred alien flesh before it drifted away in silence.
Only the soft hiss of pressure leaks and flickering emergency lights remained.
Gilbert hovered for a beat, chest heaving.
Then his boots locked to the floor.
"…Target eliminated," he said quietly over comms. "Zone C is clear."
"Knight 141, repeat that," Edward's voice came back, laced with disbelief through static.
Gilbert exhaled slowly. "We've killed the Seneschal. Continuing objective: retrieve data from Dr. Vos's home terminal."
Zone A.
Aisling froze mid-firefight.
"Did he say… he killed it?" she whispered.
Zone A, further down.
Askel stood from the servant corpse he'd been using as a seat. Blood stained his armor—servants and beast—but his tone was pure awe.
"That wasn't just a servant…" he muttered. "That was a f***ing Seneschal."
He cracked his neck.
"…Wish I'd been in that fight."
Zone C.
A groan of shifting metal dragged Gilbert's attention back.
The housing unit was collapsing. The last support beam cracked, dropping part of the roof.
"Kean! Mei! Ana!" he shouted, sprinting forward.
The team froze. All eyes were locked on the debris.
Gilbert dropped beside it, wrenching a beam free. William joined him, using his massive strength to lift collapsed wall panels. Vivian limped to help. Adam secured the perimeter.
Finally—
They found her.
Anastasia was pinned under wreckage. Her arm was mangled, chestplate dented—but her eyes were open.
Beside her, Chen Mei lay unconscious, shallow breaths fogging her visor.
Kean knelt in front of them, arms spread, shielding them from the worst. His armor was crushed in places. Blood streamed across his inner display.
He looked up, gave a crooked smile.
"Hey guys… ain't bad for the weakest combatant," he muttered, blood dribbling from his mouth.
Gilbert barked a short laugh.
"You're insane," he said, grabbing Kean by the arm.
"Gil… are we alive?" Kean asked dazed.
"Barely," Gilbert muttered. "Ana—did you get the data?"
She blinked up, eyelids fluttering.
"I… don't know. I think—"
THUD.
Boots.
Multiple.
Lieutenant Edward stepped through the wreckage, flanked by his squad.
He took one look at the Seneschal's decapitated corpse, then at Gilbert, scorched and cracked.
"You really killed it," he said, low.
Gilbert stood straight, swords still humming.
"Yeah. We killed it."
Edward nodded once. His gaze shifted to the fallen team.
"And the data?"
Gilbert's jaw tightened.
"We don't know."
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Then Edward looked around, his voice harder now.
"Secure the wounded. Reinforce this position. I want that drive recovered or confirmed destroyed. Understood?"
"Understood," Gilbert said, eyes locked on the flickering terminal in the dust.
Gilbert stood just outside the wreckage, armor scorched and shoulder twitching involuntarily from overexertion. He flexed his fingers to make sure his suit still obeyed—barely. The twin blades on his back hissed as they cooled, coils flickering and dimming.
Lieutenant Edward stepped in front of him. The two Knights behind him flanked the crushed apartment like sentries. Silence stretched between them.
Edward's visor retracted.
His eyes were sharp. Older. He'd seen a hundred battles and likely buried twice as many soldiers. But in that moment, his expression was unreadable.
"You disobeyed protocol," Edward said.
Gilbert didn't flinch. "Yes, sir."
"You engaged a high-value Stygian threat without waiting for confirmation or backup."
"Yes, sir."
"You wired a combat suit into a compromised terminal mid-firefight."
Gilbert nodded again. "Correct."
Edward's gaze lingered on him.
Then he slowly nodded.
"And you killed a Seneschal."
Gilbert's voice was quieter this time. "We did, sir. As a unit."
Edward stared at him for a moment longer, then glanced over his shoulder—at the ruined room, the wounded teammates, and the now-headless corpse of the enemy commander still drifting in zero-gravity.
"…Damn impressive," he muttered. "Not clean. But impressive."
Gilbert didn't respond.
Edward stepped closer. "Radion levels spiked during your final exchange. Your suit registered 202 before the kill."
Gilbert blinked. "I didn't see that."
"You wouldn't. Your HUD blacked out for four seconds after the overload."
He studied Gilbert like one might an unstable prototype.
"Do you feel anything different?"
Gilbert hesitated. "I feel… sharper. Like everything slowed down for a moment. But that's it."
Edward nodded faintly. "Then you're the same as me now."
Gilbert tilted his head. "Same as you?"
"You've crossed the line of a knight, you are now a high knight.."
He clapped a gloved hand on Gilbert's shoulder.
"You'll be evaluated back at headquarters, but for now—we've got a war to finish."
He turned to the rest of the squad.
"5A9—fall back to Second Line. I will request another squad from Alpharomero to finish the sweep of Zone C and secure the wreckage. You're squad is to fall back to the command station."
William helped lift Kean, who groaned but gave a thumbs-up.
Vivian limped forward, muttering, "About damn time."
Anastasia, pale but focused, pointed at the cracked data drive in her hands.
"Still got something. Whether it usable? No clue."
"Bring it," Edward said. "Command will want a look."