Captain Cuvie squatted, his Scopedog mimicking his action. The lower center of gravity allowed it to reach top speed. The treads on his feet were at full power as he dashed down the empty road.

There were the occasional XM211 trucks with the Rabbits on guard. Their white armor made them stand out as they oversaw street corners.

As they approached the downtown core, they left peaceful communities, and dead bodies appeared. The soft, mutated bodies that unnerved him. The soldiers seemed alert, which was a good sign.

He was a trained soldier. Elite military family that had served Val Verde since its founding. He was a man who valued self discipline. Something they selected him and his squad for.

These monsters… broke that. No matter how much discipline you had, once infected you lost it all. Your control. Your mind. Yourself.

The rest of the Red Guard followed behind. The other five were behind him. Ready to engage in what they considered an organic version of their Scopedogs.

“General Fenris is down, Starfire is down, and Supergirl is playing tag with the Type-3,” Maya explained as Cuvie watched the world speed by.

“Acknowledged. Engagement in 30 seconds,” Cuvie stated as he armed his weapons.

With the data showing that small arms fire, and weak energy weapons having no effect, their gear changed to heavy melee weapons. Diamond tipped titanium alloy gear. They had melee claws to grapple and tear.

Four units also had robust pile bunkers. To punch through the flesh and lock it down to the ground. To pierce a vital organ or three.

Two units had plasma cutters instead of the pile bunker. They were to hack the monster’s head off and then the limbs. Hard to fight when you couldn’t see or move.

Their shoulder launcher were grenade launchers. They loaded napalm grenades. They were going to cook it from the outside in. Napalm was excellent for that.

The Type-3 had shown great resilience against heat, but not immunity. Captain Cuvie licked his lips as the roar of the Type-3 reached him.

“Type-3 sighted. Red Guard is engaging,” Captain Cuvie said as he broadcast the message to command, and to his soldiers.

Operation Start.

The six units fanned out. The first three, the closest, retracted the treads and forcing them to a slow jog. R&D never designed the Scopedog to run. That was what the treads were for.

The heavy stomps of their power frames caught the Type-3’s attention. It shifted from the small target to something more interesting. The last big metal box was fun to fight. Now there was more!

Cuvie was the first to reach the monster. He launched the grenades, allowing them to break the liquid onto hits massive frame. Coating in sticky goo.

Kara heaved as she leaned against the conveniently parked white warthog. She gratefully accepted the bottle of water. The cool water was very refreshing.

She waited until the third grenade hit and exploded on the monster’s body.

Then she concentrated. It had become harder as she became more tired. Lasers shot from her eyes and hit the massive, goo covered chest. The beam of energy hit volatile naphtha and ignited it.

The Type-3 vanished as fire obscured its body. It roared through the flames, but it did not fall. It took several steps towards the thing that threw the goo.

Captain Cuvie grinned as he opened his 4-pronged claw hands. They rotated as he moved his wrists.

The Type-3 saw him as he got closer. It punched him. The Scopedog shook as the power of the monster rattled its entire body. The power reserves held, and the metal barely dented.

The combat claws clamped down onto the outstretched arm. The monster roared as it tried to pry its arm away. It couldn’t.

The Scopedog was now restricting the monster’s ability to move. Captain Cuvie smiled.

Just as planned.

—

Thomas Beowulf Fenris, Supreme General of Val Verde’s military forces, groaned as he got up. He was getting old.

He had crawled out of the ruined power frame. The Scopedog was missing its right arm, and both legs were missing chunks.

Luckily, the cockpit absorbed as much shock as possible. The bulky chest area was if he remembered properly, was spherical in design. His new favorite shape.

Was being the proper word as the misshapen and warped chest area looked like crumpled paper. Proof that the monster had inhuman levels of power, even for its massive size.

The R&D teams had focused on survivability. Which explained why he was still alive.

He stretched once he was sure he would not fall over. Joints popped as he changed posses. Overall, not too bad, despite the various yellow warning about his health flashing in his HUD. He ignored them, just like he did the various doctors telling him to retire.

The room was in ruins as he tried to concentrate on anything else. Broken desks. Shattered glass was everywhere.

The nice fountain he had seen from the outside was now leaking water.

Water.

His body and mind had a quick talk, and it turns out he was thirsty. Very thirsty.

“System, inject water,” Fenris ordered and opened his mouth as a small rubber pipe popped out. He bit on it and tried to suck in water.

A red warning sign showed that his water compartment had broken during his tumble.

“Great…” the man muttered as he stood up. He was still fairly fit despite his age. 58… or was it 59 now?

He slowly made his way to the fountain. Didn’t the suit have an emergency carbon filter? Like those life straws?

Did he order them, or did Rico?

Okay. He might have a concussion. Which wasn’t as bad as it could be. He could be dead.

Fenris rotated his right shoulder. The stiff one from an assassination attempt against Supreme Leader Jackson. It was during the man’s first term, and there was a lot of competition for the job. Jackson had cleared up that problem quickly.

The man was competent, but too short-sighted. It was the reason he died so easily. Skimped on the proper security force and get bombed out of office. Too comfortable, and too greedy.

Rico at least had a proper head on his shoulders.

Take these new fancy suits, for example. Built for survival, and not for simple mass production. He recalled the boy giving Sue a lecture on why they were not cutting corners, despite the logical argument presented.

All made locally too. Using those new print factories that Supreme Scientist had set up. The woman was fishy from beginning to end, but the Supreme Leader had welcomed her into the island. The Supreme Leader’s decisions were law.

Fenris kept an eye open, however. AIM was always a risky business.

The risk in this case paid off. Like winning the lottery on a national level.

Tech was now flooding into every corner of the military, and it will trickle down starting in the fall. People would enter the modern era.

Fenris sighed as he fished out the tiny tube and stopped. Wait. Wasn't this infected water?

The old-ish man screamed and slammed his hand onto the fountained. It shattered further and chunks slid away as the shallow pool found a way out and into freedom.

In frustration, Fenris ripped out a chunk and threw it against the centerpiece. The chunk of fake marble smashed into porcelain. They designed it to replicate the town square’s fountain.

The entire thing broke and fell away. The shattering ceramic took revenge on the fake marble. The stone underneath broke as the weight cracked it open.

A pulse of red light briefly flared and then vanished.

Fenris stared. He waited when nothing happened.

A pulse of red light briefly flared and then vanished.

Fenris scraped away the cheap stone. It broke under his hands. Less stone and more porcelain mixed and layered with some stone?

The pulsating light revealed itself to be a slow, blinking light with the label ‘Active’ underneath.

Nice, simple square font. Something he saw often on military goods.

Fenris pulled away at the rest, revealing something that would have him shitting a brick. Or would have if he already hadn’t shat earlier in the day. The joys of old age. Not that he would get much older now.

“Maya,” Fenris tapped into his communication channel.

“Supreme General! You are alright!” the chipper voice greeted him. Then it turned strained as her terminal patched into his system. “What is that doing there!?”

“Please patch me through to the Supreme Leader,” Fenris said as he sat down on the metal edge of their doom.

—

I watched as things went horribly south.

The Red Guards had locked down the limbs. Then the cutting units took off its head.

Which then promptly grew a giant tentacle and was now using a warthog as a mallet to bludgeon the others.

Kara was sunbathing on the hood of his warthog, trying to energize.

I ran a hand down my face. At least this couldn’t get much worse. There would need to be an alien invasion or something.

[Rico. We have a problem.]

I took in a slow breath. I let out a slow, ragged breath. Why me?

“Rico here,” I said as frowned. Fenris was talking, which was good. Fenris was using my first name, which wasn’t.

[We have an N-2 Mine in the lobby of Umbrella’s building. What do you want to do with it?]

I stared across at the fighting robots and monsters. My view narrowed down onto the shattered glass.

[Confirm. You said an N-2 MINE!?] I calmly yelled into my throat communicator.

————

Chapter 38: It Gets Worse