Shadows of Suspicion
Major Smith stepped out of the briefing room with two special forces members, heading toward the helipad. "Hey, Bram."
At the major's unusually serious call, Captain Bram, who had been following half a step behind, looked up. Smith’s overwhelming build made even the armed Bram seem small.
"Something's off about this one. Stein's reaction was one I've never seen before. And that woman's response."
"Yes, sir. It was unexpected for the to bother attending the meeting at all."
"Feels like they came just in case Stein said something he shouldn't."
"Same thought here."
Smith curled one corner of his mouth. "An entire reconnaissance platoon wiped out—an unprecedented situation. No time to even send a distress signal. And they're not just any unit; they're under the Science and Technology Division proxies. They'd have been running recon steadily. Weird, right? Getting wiped like that, total annihilation, all so sudden."
Bram nodded silently. Smith resumed walking.
"Lieutenant Ri is the key to this op. If she's alive, bring her back no matter what. If not, secure definitive proof from the site. Understood?"
"Orders received."
"Sergeant. Support Bram properly."
The soldier following behind replied, "Don't worry about it, sir."
Major Smith slowed a step, throwing an arm around both their shoulders and whispering low. "...And if you find evidence, don't report straight to HQ. You get what I mean. Our barrier commander~ the general's too gung-ho with Grand Marshal himself."
Bram answered with a single look in his eyes. The sergeant replied with silence, then asked, "By the way, this is the first time I've seen air insertion approved so hastily."
Smith released the arm-around-shoulders and smirked. "Yeah. Normally we'd go in by ground vehicle. Can't go blaring around outside the barrier when that 'hole' Aria bitch might reactivate and make noise."
They continued toward the helipad. Bram felt a mix of excitement and slight doubt at the rare helicopter insertion.
"HQ's been passive ever since total war gutted our forces and firepower. This feels like wartime orders."
"What can you do? When the big shots say jump, we jump. If shit hits the fan, I'll flip the table myself."
Bram just smiled quietly. By then, Smith had arrived at the helipad perimeter and eyed the lined-up special forces troops. Top-notch gear. A vibe worlds apart from regular army. The total war's survivors—the best of the best—scraped together into this elite unit. General Hassel's lust for power had built it up this far, but that same ambition was why they were on this awkward mission now.
Still, Smith found it amusing rather than unpleasant that a proxy was in danger and his unit had been deployed for it. No matter the monsters out there, humans always beat monsters in the end.
That said, the idea that one of those monsters had slipped into peril was uncomfortable. Smith cherished his subordinates fiercely, for all his lighthearted air. One of them especially.
"If she took a hit bad enough to wipe a platoon, odds are she's dead already. If it's too risky, abandon and pull back. Got it?"
Bram nodded. "Understood, Major. Heard Lieutenant Ri's got skills in intel analysis on top of science and tech. Makes me worry she poked something important."
Smith stroked his chin. The suspicious reactions in the briefing room. Like some cliché—they found something they shouldn't and got annihilated. It fit the picture all too well.
"Bram, you watch too many movies. And don't think like that. Plot-wise, it'd put our unit in danger too."
Bram chuckled at the major's banter.
"With combat troops and a proxy, what could go wrong? Anyway, heard about Red Eye's abilities but never worked with one. Looking forward to it."
"Yeah. From rumors and declassified intel, she's a combat proxy with x-ray vision and prediction. Looks-wise... eh, just a kid."
Smith recalled Bell's appearance and clicked his tongue. A tiny girl like that, same generation as that terrifying brigadier general? A 0th Generation proxy? The world was beyond common sense now.
"Kinda exciting. Wonder how big the gap is."
Bram spoke with genuine interest. Smith grinned and added, "See if we can take her. Make it part of the investigation."
Smith clapped Bram's shoulder. "Don't push it. I'll be wishing you luck. Good hunting."
"Roger."
Bram efficiently briefed the unit on the insertion objective. Soon, the troops boarded in perfect order, ran final weapon checks, and the helicopter blades began to spin.
Thud-thud-thud-thud—
As the roar filled the pad, Bell appeared at the entrance. Her expression was stiffer than usual today.
As Bell boarded, the troops glanced at her discreetly. Everyone had their own thoughts, but they all agreed: aside from Grand Marshal and Brigadier General Jack, proxies always looked ridiculously young.
The troops checked gear, and as the chopper lifted off, they crossed the barrier in seconds. Ruined, crumbling buildings sprawled below, poorly maintained.
Bell shut her eyes, wanting to think of nothing.
"Target point reached. All personnel, prepare to rappel."
The in-copter alarm blared with the pilot's voice. Bram unbuckled smoothly. The rear door slid open slowly, and Bram signaled the team. The rope dropped with a sharp metallic clang.
Wind rushed in as the door opened fully. Below: shattered mall roof and elevated highway debris.
Special forces took rappel positions in sequence. Amid them, Bell grabbed her whipping hair, stepped forward, knelt at the door.
"Captain Bell, will you rappel first?"
Before Bram could finish, Bell gripped the rope and hopped out. No posture, just a leap. Bram peered down in surprise.
Whoosh—
She slid halfway, released, and dropped free.
"What the hell."
One trooper gaped. Even at fast-rope height, it was over 5 meters. Ground littered with debris—normal drop from midway would've shattered legs.
Thud!
Yet Bell landed perfectly, balanced, stood unfazed. Scanned around like it was nothing.
"That make any sense?"
A trooper muttered in disbelief. Bram let out a dry laugh.
"That's why they call 'em proxies. Let's go."
Troopers rappelled one by one, eyeing her. Bell ignored them, toed debris aside with her combat boot.
"Final survival signal point reached."
Bram spoke into his in-ear comm. Last ground signal: open plaza near ruined subway station where the platoon moved. Presumed wipeout: mall first-floor lobby.
The half-collapsed mall loomed like a monstrosity. Eerily so.
"Breach."
At Bram's order, the assault team deployed. Lead element signaled clear with a hand gesture. Bell followed Bram quietly inside.
Interior: tangled debris ready to collapse anytime, regular army corpses strewn near lobby center.
"...Gunshots. Precise fire."
Bram muttered, flipping a body. Chest hole matched Dist proprietary rounds.
"Not sniper from position or angle. Some shotgun-like scatter—standard-issue Dist fragments confirmed."
A trooper approached with analysis, glanced at the cold regulars, added, "Recover bodies?"
"Rescue Lieutenant Ri first."
"Roger."
Around regular corpses: several wrecked Dists. Chests holed by rifles, joints shot per doctrine, some anti-restart fire.
Bram halted. Signs of combat.
"No way they got wiped instantly."
Bell frowned, sharing the thought. Troops looked puzzled too.
"They engaged before wipeout, for sure. But..."
"No distress calls at all."
Bell scanned scattered casings and broken Dists. Definitely off. Didn't add up.
"Looks staged like a fight."
Bell muttered, noting similar numbers of Dists and regulars. She knew proxy senses best—hers animal-like for danger. An intel/tech proxy missing that in a hot zone? Beyond instinct; impossible.
"Captain's got a point."
Bram's face grew serious. Bullet holes and traces perfect. Real fight. But as she said, fights mean cover. Site felt off.
"Snap pics, send to HQ. Move out."
Trooper confirmed transmission. Bram tracked Ri's signal: deeper urban, debris mountains beyond nearby building. One held her last ping.
"Buildings are a pain."
A trooper joked. Bram shrugged.
"Not zombies. Just scrap. Push."
Bram gestured Bell, then noted her massive sniper on back—no other arms.
"Sniper's too long for CQB. Seems your signature weapon. Got backups?"
Bell recalled Stein at the armory: 'Upgraded it. Better than that revolver now.'
"Hold up."
Bell yanked the hefty sniper close, inspected. Amid cluttered thoughts, Adolf's words surfaced: 'Being rude to adults doesn't look good.'
Why now? Regretting random crap?
Bell fiddled, added softly, "...Wait a sec, please."
Bram chuckled at her awkward tone, nodded. Bell spun the rifle lightly on her palm. Troops gave up being shocked at the massive gun whirling.
'Upgraded, huh? Accounted for this?'
Bell spotted new "Mode Switch" near safety. Flipped safety back, to switch—muzzle cover deployed differently, barrel thickened, extended part retracted shorter.
Clack—whirr—
Troopers and Bram gawked equally.
"Usable."
Bell's flat response left them stunned. Their primaries had max optics vs. regulars. Science tech's proxy gear transformed like a toy.
"Boss, we lodging complaints with tech management?"
A trooper deadpanned.
"Jealous? Become a proxy."
Bram laughed, eyed her now-bulky rifle. 'Converted to large-caliber rifle. Flexible for situations. Tech weirdos, as rumored.'
Perfect for urban with her drop durability—beyond human.
'Sharp insights too.'
Bram eyed her curiously. "Ready, Captain?"
Bell looked up seriously. "Let's go."
"Full team, building breach. Maintain CQB formation."
They crossed the plaza fast. Textbook vigilance and advance. Reached entrance: compound shop exterior, dark warehouse inside. Dust, cut materials, sagging ceiling. Rifle lights distorted shadows grotesquely.
Bram clenched fist—halt signal. Troops froze. He spoke slowly to them and Bell.
"Positions. Captain. Sorry, but I know your ability vaguely from records."
They knew her public powers. In building, max her out—wallhack. But low-angle gaze from her? Bram shook head, corrected.
Who puts who in front? The tiny girl? Didn't compute.
"No issue. Advance."
"I'll take point."
"Ah, if you in—"
Bram turned, words failed. Girl's blue eyes now rabbit-red.
'Fascinating. Simplistic, but that's why Red Eye.'
Bram twisted aside, clearing path. Bell gripped rifle, led.
"Dists ahead, 3 meters up stairs."
Quick intel, crouched low.
"I'll go first."
Tap.
Bell toed door lightly. Instant—BOOM!!!!
Gray torso burst through wall. Dist. But Bell sidestepped diagonally, precise double-tap.
Bang-bang!! Cranch!
Head and power core pierced—shattered. Unthinkable for standard rifle. Metal tumbled rattling.
Troops peeked from cover, froze at power and proxy speed. Someone muttered.
"...Kid looks younger than my daughter, what..."
Bell pretended not to hear, crept on. Passed pitch corridors multiple times. Boot snagged unidentifiable bones. Second floor: tangled decayed skeletons. Humans ambushed fleeing years ago.
Troops and Bell averted splattered wall blood.
Bell stopped. Lowered rifle slowly, gaze from ceiling to floor. Dry blood? No—fresh, glossy trail, broken then continued.
"Here...!"
A trooper whisper-shouted. Half-open steel door passage: handprint blood on wall, drag marks to corner.
Bell bit lip unconsciously. Lieutenant Ri through this dark. More blood than thought. Heart pounded heavy.
If too late. If really... losing another approaching her?
That instant. Bell's eyes widened at corner, yelled.
"Contact, 2 o'clock!"
Corridor end: power hum, three biped Dists leaped in.
"Rear! Cover!"
Bram shouted.
Crash—
Opposite stairs window: two more Dists jumped down. Pincer in seconds. Bram bellowed.
"Formation shift! Team A, stair fire!"
Bell dashed beyond block—inhuman speed—wall-run, aerial flank.
Enemy Dist turned—ratatat!!
Rounds pierced optic sensors. Shrapnel flew; rear Dist instinctively turned to shooter.
"Captain! Two more!"
Bell slid-roll suppressed lunging one.
Bang!
Then right advance. Double-tap precision.
Pop.
Two Dists dropped, neck joints severed.
Bram and troops scanned, panting. Bell unscathed.
Nearby trooper laughed hollowly. '...Really human?'
Ruined hall filled with cordite, crunching metal.
Bell stood dazed before smeared passage blood. Ri's last trace. Gripped rifle taut, followed like drawn.
Troops followed unquestioning.
Long lead, Bell halted. Blood stopped at stairs. Pulled rifle close, team ascended cautiously.
Opened to mid-building lobby. Stench wrinkled noses.
Bell scanned railing end, red eyes glowing brighter.
'Why'd I miss that?'
Bell scowled irritated. Saw zones climbing. Missed before.
'Tired? Me?'
To Bram quick: "Below, management gear. Science tech metal box... emergency beacon."
"Exact spot?"
"Past railing, first floor corner room. Big one."
Stepped forward. Bram blocked.
"Hold, Captain. Means down stairs. Troops climbing—secure zone first."
"No, my miss. I'll check solo quick."
Bell neared railing. Bram scanned calm.
Red Eye eased ascent. But misses? Proxies tire?
"Your power ever miss?"
Bram asked. Bell paused, recalled tests, frowned slightly.
"Science tech experiments, couldn't x-ray grade-1+ shields."