Mendez scanned the data streaming to her visor's HUD while keeping her component salvage device ready. The system was still sorting through the debris of W-9's destruction, logging materials, power signatures, anything of use.
"How are we looking, Jackson?" she asked.
Jackson was methodically retrieving the four Scorpion bullets that hadn't triggered, plucking them from the air where they still hung, their energy spent but intact. The rifle's ability to reclaim unused shots was a strange advantage—one that still felt like an exploit.
"Could use a top-up if you get one," Jackson replied, his tone calm as ever.
Mendez fished through her hip pack, fingers closing around the last small round component she had stored there. Compact, unnaturally dense, pulsing faintly with energy.
"Already had an extra one," she said, tossing it to him.
Jackson caught it without breaking stride, slotting it into the same chamber where he'd just reloaded the reclaimed rounds. The weapon hummed slightly as it registered the addition, the kinetic charges resetting.
Mendez turned back to the wreckage of W-9, lining up a scan with her salvage tool. The available components scrolled across the lower corner of her HUD, but not the one she needed.
No high-yield capacitors. No new energy dispersal nodes.
Damn.
"Should have nine left, right, Jackson?" Mendez asked, meaning the bullets still in play for his Scorpion. Her HUD confirmed it, but she wanted verbal confirmation.
"That's what it says," Jackson replied.
"That's three down," Chen cut in over comms.
"At least two are close," she said. "If we engage the pack to the right of the next intersection, that might draw them out."
The wasps hadn't been the nightmare they originally feared, but Mendez wasn't convinced yet. Were they adapting to Jackson's Scorpion rounds, or was their hesitation part of a pre-programmed response? Had they already seen the value in attacking from outside its range?
She didn't like unknowns.
Right now, she and Jackson were completely dependent on Stewart's shield or their own positioning to stay out of the line of fire. If the enemy adjusted—if the wasps started coordinating with the raptors—they would be in trouble.
And then there was Chen.
Chen was thriving. The way he moved with the KMS-Alpha vest, the way he trusted the gravitational pull, adjusted his fall mid-motion like it was second nature. It wasn't just quick thinking—it was natural.
How much of this was luck?
Or was it like Chen had said days ago—that this system was running things like a video game?
Mendez exhaled. That question had been hanging in her head for too long.
She thought about Chen's plan as they engaged the next pack. In between Eagle shots, her mind wandered.
If they could reach the territory they had already claimed, they should be able to control the battlefield. That was the theory. Okay, it was Chen's theory. But they had run it by the Hub, and the Hub had introduced its imaginary infrastructure expert correspondent.
Madame Tzunko had started talking about environmental studies, permits, and community surveys until she'd threatened to fill the Hub Station with the five gallons of nacho cheese they had found in the restaurant pantry.
That had shut it up.
She fired again, dropping another standard raptor with a clean shot to the core. In her peripheral, something shifted.
Without hesitation, she swapped her Eagle for the Hammerhead, the motion smooth and practiced. Unlike the others, she preferred to keep both weapons mounted to the front of her armor, angled for easy access.
They were there in her HUD, but how had she missed them?
"Heavies," Stewart said at the same time she fired.
Her slug round slammed into the first heavy raptor, the one with the glowing blue sensors.
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They had been there the whole time but she had gotten distracted. Thinking about Chen's wall idea instead of watching the fight.
She pivoted, bringing the Hammerhead up on the second heavy, this one with the standard red sensors, ready to fire—
Chen dropped in from above.
Chen landed directly behind the hulking unit, his Dinpa SMG whining, the flywheel spinning up. The first burst tore through the machine, rounds hitting deep, its core flickering, then dying.
"Never mind," Stewart said.
"That was on me," Mendez admitted.
Chen pulled himself toward her, body tilting forward mid-motion. It really was like jumping off a cliff, she thought as she watched him falling headfirst—horizontally.
It was hard to judge his speed from this angle. A dark blur in sleek black armor, coming almost directly at her.
At what felt like the last moment, Chen's hands shot upward.
Both hands.
For a brief second, he must have grabbed onto the skyscraper behind her, his trajectory snapping into a pivot. The momentum nearly threw him off balance as his boots skidded across the icy pavement.
His body pitched too far forward, dangerously close to a full wipeout.
But he reached out again, fingers flexing against thin air—except he wasn't falling.
He was leaning against something invisible.
Mendez blinked.
Was that possible?
Chen had tried to explain how the KMS-Alpha vest worked, but she had tuned him out halfway through—something about gravitational gradients, relative positioning, and inertia redirection. She'd filed it under don't need to understand it to use it.
But now, watching him casually rebalance himself against seemingly nothing, she realized just how little they had tested the limits of that thing.
She gave him a quick nod, which he returned.
"Wasps?" Chen asked.
The patterns were still too chaotic. Mendez's visor tracked movement vectors, but nothing consistent. The wasps weren't retreating or committing.
She needed data.
"Hub, I don't have time for your nonsense," she warned.
"As a valued user, would you like to purchase our premium tactical analysis upgrade?" the Hub chimed in. "Includes real-time strategic advisement, enemy trajectory predictions, and—"
"En serio?" She shook her head. "Just—"
"Here's a free preview," the Hub interrupted. "Our premium behavioral model predicts two exciting opportunities if you act now."
Mendez gritted her teeth. At least it was getting to the point.
"Make it quick," she said.
"I'm highlighting the projected trajectories of units designated W-2 and W-6, beta and zeta if you prefer."
Mendez’s HUD refreshed, the latest enemy movements mapped out in real-time. W-2 and W-6 were maneuvering into a predictable attack cycle, shifting based on their team’s position.
They were grouped up inside a coffee shop, taking a moment to check angles.
Chen was already working through the possibilities.
"If we can draw W-6 here—" he gestured toward an intersection on his projection, "which is great anyway because that gets us closer to the Defense Force border—then Jackson—"
"Yeah, what you got?" Jackson asked, his attention flicking from his weapon to Chen.
"Check this projection."
Chen activated Jackson’s emblem with a quick gesture, the Scorpion rifle's stock illuminating as the projection linked to his HUD.
"You want to get these two wasps?" Jackson said.
"Hold on," Chen continued, fingers moving through the projection, adjusting the angles. "If you can set up a corridor here and here with your Scorpion—"
He drew in the air, the emblems translating his gestures into tactical overlays, refining the concept in real-time.
"This is a regular pack, right?" Stewart asked, cutting in.
Mendez glanced at him. She wasn’t sure if he was questioning the enemy composition or reminding her about her earlier mistake. The two heavy raptors had been right there, and she’d missed them.
She should feel annoyed, guilty—even frustrated.
She did feel those things.
Just… distantly.
She eye-clicked her scan data, double-checking.
"Nineteen regulars," she confirmed.
Stewart nodded.
"Stewart and I can handle that group, and then I can lay down the trap," Jackson said.
"Only nine bullets left," Jackson added, tapping the side of the Scorpion. "What do you think—four here, five there?" He pointed to each location Chen had marked.
"Yeah, that sounds great," Chen said.
"If we time it right, we might be able to get both wasps at the same time."
"Like a two-for-one," Jackson finished.
Mendez exhaled.
It was a good plan. A clean setup, logical, efficient.
Chen studied the projection a second longer before giving a firm nod. "This is perfect. If we time it right, we don’t just take them down—we make them look stupid for walking into it."
Jackson smirked. "We are still just winging it though."
"Eh," Chen said.
"I mean," Stewart chimed in, "who are we trying to impress, really?"
Mendez raised both hands, palms out. "That's not what this is about."
The team quieted, waiting.
She looked at them, at the mix of artificial calm on their faces, the absence of fear where it should be. The system had given them that. But the real confidence? That was up to them.
"We're proving it to ourselves."
