That afternoon, after Kiriya went home to rest—his head still spinning from everything that happened, especially with his best friend Ren—the base fell silent. The usual chaos of Kiriya's voice was gone, leaving a calm that felt strangely empty.
Ren stared at the main console, eyes tracing the faint, pulsing projection of Ultro's digital brain. Man, he thought. He should be relaxed about this.
But Ren couldn't stay still for long—not when his mission wasn't finished. He refocused on the AI's power source before him.
His arms lifted, fingers tapping across the holographic interface. "Yesterday in Sudan I was stuck firing plasma cannons, my Mark I shot to hell and riddled with tank rounds," he muttered. "It was brutal… but I survived."
He sighed, looking at the Mark I armor he'd left on the nearby rack. "Alright, Ultro. Can you give me intel on old and new weapon systems from every major world power?"
