They entered the fourth warehouse through a service entrance, the metal door hanging askew on corroded hinges. Arthur led with his rifle raised, prosthetic fingers steady on the grip. The interior was darker than the previous structures, with fewer collapsed sections allowing natural light. Emergency lighting strips along the walls flickered intermittently, powered by some forgotten backup system that had survived a century of neglect.
The space was configured differently than the others—less industrial shelving, more specialized equipment. Workstations lined the walls, their surfaces covered in dust and debris. In the center of the warehouse floor sat something that made Arthur's tactical instincts scream warning.
A containment unit. Military grade, pre-war construction, still sealed and apparently functional. Its surface was matte black composite, roughly two meters tall and half as wide, with a control panel that glowed faintly amber.
"6O, are you seeing this?" Arthur said quietly.
"Yes! Oh wow, that's—hold on, accessing historical databases." Her usual cheerfulness had shifted to focused intensity. "Commander, that's a military research container. Pre-war encryption, biometric locks, the whole secure package. Whatever's inside was important enough to rate maximum protection."
"Can you access it?" Miranda asked, moving closer with professional curiosity.
Ocean was scanning the perimeter, her sensors sweeping for threats. "Still detecting Ant signatures outside, but nothing in here. It's like they were guarding the building but not entering it."
"That's because of what's inside," 6O said, excitement building in her voice. "I've bypassed the encryption—it's old security protocol, really sophisticated for its time but not designed for modern quantum processing. Opening now."
The container's locks disengaged with sequential mechanical clicks. Pressurized seals hissed as the door swung outward on smooth hydraulics. Cold vapor spilled from the interior, dissipating quickly in the warehouse's stale air.
Inside, secured in a cushioned cradle, sat a crystalline cube roughly fifteen centimeters per side. It pulsed with internal light—soft blues and purples that seemed to flow through its structure in hypnotic patterns. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, clearly pre-war technology that exceeded anything Arthur had seen in the Ark.
"What is that?" Flower breathed, her earlier nervousness forgotten in the face of genuine wonder.
"It's a Harmony Cube," 6O said, and Arthur could hear the awe in her voice. "Oh my goodness, I can't believe I'm actually seeing one. Commander, do you understand what you've found? This is lost technology. Pre-war research into Nikke enhancement systems. Harmony Cubes were designed to optimize neural-synthetic integration, improve combat performance, reduce memory fragmentation—everything that makes being a Nikke difficult, these were supposed to fix it."
Miranda stepped closer, her expression shifting from curiosity to something more vulnerable. "Memory fragmentation? This could help Flower remember?"
"Potentially. The research was never completed before the war started. Only a handful of Harmony Cubes were ever manufactured, and Command assumed they were all destroyed or lost when humanity retreated underground." 6O paused, and Arthur heard other voices in the background—she was reporting to someone. "Commander, I'm being told to relay new orders. The Harmony Cube takes absolute priority over all other mission objectives. Secure it immediately and return to extraction. Command is scrambling additional security for your return transport."
Arthur studied the cube, tactical instincts recognizing something wrong. "The Ants. They weren't defending the warehouse randomly. They were guarding this."
"Affirmative," 6O confirmed. "Raptures demonstrate instinctive behavior around certain pre-war technologies. They don't understand what they're guarding, but something in their base programming recognizes high-value targets. They'd hold position here until a higher-class unit arrived to claim it."
"Meaning we need to move fast," Ocean said. "If a Lord-class or higher is en route, we want to be gone before it arrives."
Arthur reached for the cube, his prosthetic fingers closing around its smooth surface. It was surprisingly warm, vibrating faintly with some internal process he couldn't identify. He secured it in a reinforced pouch on his tactical vest, making sure the container was sealed.
"Package secured," he reported. "6O, update extraction. We're moving—"
The wall exploded inward.
Arthur's augmented reflexes threw him into a combat roll as debris erupted across the warehouse floor. His squad scattered, finding cover behind workstations and support pillars. Through the dust and smoke, something massive entered the warehouse.
Lord-class. The designation flashed through Arthur's tactical assessment even as his conscious mind processed what he was seeing. The Rapture stood perhaps four meters tall, its torso a dense mass of armored plating and mechanical systems. But its limbs were unnaturally thin—spindly legs that seemed too delicate to support its bulk, arms that tapered to points glowing with intense orange-red heat.
Thermite. Arthur recognized the designation from Academy briefings, though he'd never expected to face one. Lord-class Raptures were supposed to be rare, appearing only in major Rapture strongholds or coordinated assaults.
"Contact! Lord-class Rapture!" Arthur shouted into the comm. "All units, evasive action!"
Thermite's legs moved with disturbing speed, carrying it across the warehouse floor in a skittering rush that defied its apparent fragility. One superheated arm swept toward Ocean's position. She dove clear as the limb carved through the workstation she'd been using for cover, metal and composite materials erupting into flame where the heat made contact.
"Those arms are plasma-based!" Miranda called out, her force shield flickering to life as she positioned herself between the Rapture and Flower. "Avoid direct contact!"
Flower's rocket launcher boomed, the explosive round catching Thermite in its central torso. The detonation was spectacular but ineffective—the Lord-class's armor absorbed the impact, scorch marks appearing on its plating but no significant damage penetrating.
"Core location?" Arthur demanded, firing controlled bursts from his assault rifle. The rounds sparked off Thermite's armor, achieving nothing but drawing its attention.
Which was exactly what he'd intended.
Thermite pivoted toward him with mechanical precision, both superheated arms rising. Arthur's augmented legs launched him sideways as the Rapture struck, its limbs slamming into the concrete floor where he'd been standing. The impact sent cracks spider-webbing through the foundation, and the heat was so intense Arthur felt it through his combat gear even at five meters distance.
"6O, I need tactical data!" Miranda shouted, her SMG chattering as she fired at joints and seams, searching for weaknesses.
"Thermite-class Raptures have their cores in the central torso, but they're protected by ablative armor plating. You need to compromise the armor first—expose the core before you can destroy it. Recommended approach is sustained fire on the chest cavity or explosive ordinance to penetrate the plating."
"Already tried explosives," Flower said, reloading her launcher with hands that trembled slightly. "Didn't work!"
"Try again," Arthur ordered, his tactical mind racing through options. "Ocean, can your sensors identify weak points in the armor?"
"Scanning—yes! The plating has seams along the lower torso, junction points where the armor segments connect. Structural weak points, but small targets."
"Miranda, can your shield hold its heat?"
"Briefly. Maybe ten seconds before the generator overloads."
Arthur's prosthetic hands reloaded his rifle with mechanical efficiency. "Then here's the plan. Miranda, you draw its attention with the shield. Ocean, suppressing fire on those seam points. Flower, when the armor's compromised, you hit it with everything you have. I'll provide covering fire and adjust as needed."
They moved before he'd finished speaking, professional discipline overriding fear. Miranda advanced with her shield raised, the energy barrier flickering as it absorbed ambient heat from Thermite's proximity. The Rapture's attention fixed on her immediately, recognizing the threat or perhaps simply targeting the nearest combatant.
Thermite's arms swept toward her in a devastating combination attack, the superheated limbs moving faster than something that large had any right to move. Miranda's shield flared brilliant blue-white as it absorbed the first impact, energy readings spiking into dangerous territory. The second strike nearly broke through, the force shield generator screaming a warning alert.
But it held. For exactly long enough.
Ocean's SMG hammered at the identified weak points with surgical precision, her enhanced targeting allowing for accuracy that would have been impossible for an unaugmented human. Rounds punched into the seams where armor plates connected, exploiting microscopic gaps with cumulative damage. One plate cracked, then another, structural integrity compromising under focused assault.
Thermite's chest cavity was still protected, but now there were openings. Vulnerabilities.
Flower's rocket launcher roared twice in rapid succession, both rounds entering through the compromised armor seams. The explosions were contained within Thermite's torso, the internal detonations catastrophic. Armor plates blew outward, mechanical components erupting in sparks and flame.
The Rapture's red core became visible through the devastation—a pulsing sphere of energy in the center of its chest, partially exposed by the damage.
"Core exposed!" Arthur shouted, advancing with his rifle firing. His rounds struck home, each impact causing the core's glow to flicker. But the core was resilient, still protected by internal structures.
Thermite wasn't finished. Despite catastrophic damage, it pivoted toward Arthur with mechanical hatred, both superheated arms rising for a killing strike. The limbs came down like judgment, and Arthur knew his prosthetic legs couldn't move him fast enough.
Miranda intercepted. She lunged between Arthur and the attack, her shield generator already overloaded but still functional for one desperate moment. The force barrier collapsed under Thermite's assault, but it deflected the strike just enough. One superheated arm missed Arthur entirely. The other grazed his shoulder, combat gear erupting into flame.
Arthur felt the heat through his prosthetics, sensors screaming damage warnings. He rolled, extinguishing the flames against the concrete floor, and came up firing. His final rounds punched directly into Thermite's exposed core at point-blank range.
The core shattered.
Thermite collapsed, its spindly legs giving out as central processing failed. The massive torso crashed to the warehouse floor, superheated arms losing their glow as power systems shut down. Within seconds, it was nothing but inert metal and dying energy signatures.
Silence fell over the warehouse, broken only by cooling metal and labored breathing.
"Status report," Arthur managed, checking his shoulder. The combat gear was destroyed, and his prosthetic had heat damage, but he was functional.
"Operational," Miranda said, breathing hard. Her shield generator was completely burned out, wisps of smoke rising from the unit.
"I'm okay," Ocean confirmed, checking her weapon.
Flower stood frozen, staring at the destroyed Rapture. "We killed a Lord-class. We actually—I've never—"
"You did well," Arthur told her firmly. "All of you did. That was textbook squad coordination."
"Commander, are you injured?" 6O asked urgently. "Your biometrics spiked!"
"Minor damage. Still operational." Arthur checked the pouch containing the Harmony Cube. Still secure, still intact. "Package is safe. Requesting immediate extraction."
"Already en route! Extraction shuttle will be at your location in four minutes. Command is... well, they're very interested in what just happened. And very relieved you survived."
Miranda approached Arthur, examining his damaged shoulder with professional concern. "You took a hit protecting the cube."
"I took a hit because that thing was fast," Arthur corrected. "You're the one who intercepted. Thank you."
She smiled, something warm and genuine replacing her usual calculated expression. "You would have done the same for any of us. You already proved that with Squad Thirteen."
They moved toward the exit, covering each other through the warehouse complex back to the extraction point. Four minutes felt like forever when carrying pre-war technology worth more than their lives, but the shuttle appeared on schedule, descending through gray clouds with military precision.
As they boarded, Arthur realized something had shifted. Squad Seven wasn't just following orders anymore. They'd fought together, trusted each other, survived the impossible.
They'd become a team.