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(POV: Marco)
The hallway stank of blood, piss, and cowardice.
Saya-chan was just ahead of me, crouched behind a stacked metal filing cabinet turned into a makeshift barricade. Her Widow-style suit clung to her in a way that would've gotten most men killed mid-battle for staring too long—but right now, all that mattered was the shitshow unfolding in the control center ahead.
I reloaded one of my .38s with a soft click. The cylinder spun, then locked. One down the hallway, the control room door was sealed. Reinforced, maybe. Probably two or three assholes guarding the inside, at least one of them armed to the teeth, and likely with a hostage between him and my bullet.
I tapped my wrist-comm.
"Hirano-kun. Izana-san. Status?"
Kohta's voice came in steady. "All rooftop snipers neutralized. Visual confirmed. You've got a clear path."
"Copy."
Saya gave me a sharp nod. Her visor HUD was scanning the walls for traps or movement. She mouthed, "Two inside. One pacing. One stationary."
I raised a brow. "You sure?"
She tapped her visor. "Thermal overlay. Fuckers lit up like lanterns."
I cracked a grin. "Alright then."
We breached fast. No countdown. Just steel and fire.
I kicked the reinforced door right on the hinge point—it gave under my boot with a crunch and a scream of twisted metal. The guy pacing barely had time to raise his SMG before I put a bullet through his windpipe.
He gurgled and collapsed.
The other man shouted, grabbing the girl by the neck—barely older than fifteen—and dragging her in front of him. Human shield. Predictable.
Saya didn't hesitate.
She fired a high-velocity electric charge from her wrist teaser. It cracked across the room and hit the metal plating on his shoulder. He seized up, screaming as his muscles locked up—and I didn't even blink.
Bang.
.38 slug through his temple.
The girl shrieked and dropped to the ground. I moved fast, scooping her up and ducking behind cover.
"You're safe now," I muttered. "You hear me? We got you."
Saya scanned the room. "Three more heat signatures in the wall room. Hidden corridor."
"Fuckers think they're clever."
I moved to the server terminal. The control center was lined with dirty screens and improvised power cells. Cables like veins ran from the panels to a reinforced wall—whatever security net they had in place, this was the nerve center.
"Saya-chan. Light this place up. We don't leave them any way to crawl back."
She pulled two charges from her utility belt and planted them with care. "Two minutes on the timer."
From behind a metal door, muffled voices—panic.
"Sounds like they know we're here," I said.
"Good," Saya replied, her voice cold. "Let them feel it."
I took point at the hidden door. It was jammed—old rusted sliding panel with biometric bullshit long since disabled. I slammed my shoulder into it.
It cracked open.
And three dissidents rushed out.
The first went for Saya. Big mistake. She ducked low, swept his legs, and drove a stun baton into his spine. He twitched like a fish out of water before going limp.
The second raised a combat knife. Came for me.
I let him get close.
Then twisted left, grabbed his wrist, and drove my elbow into his jaw hard enough to snap bone. He slumped over.
The third had a shotgun.
I dove left—
BOOM.
Buckshot shredded the server panel.
I came up behind the bastard and emptied two rounds into his kidney.
He screamed.
I shot him again. Quieted him.
Saya cursed, checking the girl who'd been hiding inside. "Alive. Minor injuries. Another rescue."
"Time?"
"Thirty seconds."
I hit comms. "Extraction, this is Marco. Phase Two complete. Package secure. Building rigged. Moving to evac."
Rei's voice came through next. "We've got eyes on you. Rendezvous at sector Zeta-4. Shizuka-sensei is inbound."
I grabbed one girl in my arms. Saya lifted the other on her back.
We ran.
As we exited the building, the distant boom of controlled demolition shook the street. Fire burst from the windows as the whole control center was erased in a plume of ash and smoke.
The heart of their sick little operation—gone.
Saya glanced back once. "Good fucking riddance."
I looked ahead. Toward the smoke, toward the evac beacon in the alley.
Toward the survivors we were bringing home.
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(POV: Marco)
The convoy rolled into Fortress One just as the sun was rising behind the horizon, bathing the world in a shade of light orange. The Hammer's reinforced doors hissed open with hydraulic grace, and survivors—dusty, wide-eyed, and still in shock—were ushered out by Rei-chan and Shizuka-sensei. Their expressions were masks of discipline, but the lines beneath their eyes told of battles both internal and external.
Marco stood waiting by the gate, arms crossed, his .38s holstered, his eyes sweeping over the new arrivals like a commander inspecting the next pieces on the board. One by one, the survivors were brought forward. And one by one, Marco activated his system overlay, analyzing the incoming profiles with clinical precision. Four in particular stood out, all of them girls—each survivor not just alive but with potential.
[SYSTEM ANALYSIS - NEW SURVIVORS]
Name: Miho Misono
Age: 18
Survival Level: 2/10 - Tier 1
Abilities: Keen Reflexes, First Aid Knowledge, Emotionally Stable
Weaknesses: Physically Undertrained, Clumsy
Bust: E-Cup
Waist: 63 cm
Hips: 96 cm
Recommended Role: Auxiliary Nurse/ Logistics
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Mizuho Kazami
Age: 20
Survival Level: 5/10 - Tier 2
Abilities: Tactical Training, Firearms Proficiency, CQC (Close Quarters Combat), Reconnaissance
Weaknesses: Old Injury (Left Shoulder), Mild PTSD
Bust: F-Cup
Waist: 70 cm
Hips: 98 cm
Recommended Role: Recon Team 2 Leader / Instructor Liaison
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Ruri Kurimizaka
Age: 17
Survival Level: 1/10 - Tier 1
Abilities: Photographic Memory, Civilian Navigation Skills
Weaknesses: Physically Fragile, Mild Asthma
Bust: D-Cup
Waist: 64 cm
Hips: 97 cm
Recommended Role: Communications Support / Record Keeper
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Name: Shinka Nibutani
Age: 18
Survival Level: 3/10 - Tier 1
Abilities: Charismatic Presence, Minor Athletic Training
Weaknesses: Insecure, Unpredictable Under Pressure
Bust: C-Cup
Waist: 68 cm
Hips: 99 cm
Designated Role: Morale Officer / Guard Rotation Assistant
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Marco sighed quietly, sending the compiled profiles wirelessly to Kyoko's encrypted tablet. She was already in the operations room, updating base logistics with Kaede-san and Saya-chan.
The rest of the night unfolded with military precision. Kaede and Saeko, sleeves rolled up, worked the kitchen like culinary warriors, feeding a base full of exhausted bodies. Some of the survivors, now freshly showered and outfitted in temporary gear, sat on folded benches, eating silently.
"I want the residential block cleared," Marco ordered to Rei and Takashi. "We'll expand housing. Chika, Miho, Shinka—assign them to Dormitory C. Kazami-san gets a room on the command hall's second floor. She's earned proximity to the TacNet."
Kohta added between mouthfuls of rice, "Hiroki and I can sweep the next lot east of the perimeter wall tomorrow morning. If we build a raised catwalk along the roofs, we'll have visual on the highway too."
Marco nodded. "Do it."
Outside, the night was falling fast, but Fortress One was alive with electric lanterns and tactical coordination. Kanako was overseeing the drone surveillance footage, Ayumu was rechecking the medical inventory, and Shizuka was already deep into recharging the Hammer's fuel cells with the newly acquired stabilizers.
They were stronger now.
Not just in numbers—but in purpose.
And Marco Di Balla, the man with the guns, the plans, and the women who trusted him, knew the next phase would determine whether this new world would be a graveyard or a kingdom.
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