Nyz stripped out of his clothes and left them sitting on the bench before he pulled on the skintight bodysuit for the Class S combat suit. Once that was pulled on, he began pulling on the combat suit, before checking his weapons and equipping them. As soon as he finished, he pulled down his visor and picked up his NKMAR-17 and slid a magazine with a crystal pack within into place.

"Ready," Nyz said, holding the gun at the ready.

"Transferring in three… two… one!" Kal said.

Nyz found himself inside of a building, glass windows along one wall, three-foot-thick square pillars dotted here and there in the large room he had appeared in. Potted plants surrounded each pillar and sat beside the handful of desks and at the ends of the couches in the space.

The majority of people who saw him simply stared in shock and confusion, which Nyz knew was because there was no known teleportation magic. However, two people acted immediately. One, a custodian pushing a cart, pulled out a gun wrapped in a bag from the trash and dove behind a pillar. The other, a woman at one of the reception desks, who stood up with an assault rifle, firing at Nyz.

The custodian reappeared a moment later, the bag removed from his own assault rifle, and began firing at Nyz as the employees and guests panicked and began to run, a few screaming in terror. Meanwhile, Nyz simply allowed the bullets to strike his suit.

The receptionist ran out of bullets first and pressed a hand against her ear.

"The Class S is here!" She called. "It's taking our bullets with ease!"

She replaced her magazine, then unleashed another volley of bullets at him. Nyz turned and faced the custodian as his gun ran out of bullets, aiming and firing, releasing a single shot of a magical bullet, the blue shot flying through the air and impacting the man's forehead. Immediately, the man's head burst from the force and magic of the shot, and the woman paused. Nyz swiftly changed targets and shot her, then scanned the floor using his helmet, reading the data appearing in his glasses to see who was guilty and who was innocent.

Nyz began moving through the floor, encountering individual attackers and groups of them. Each time, he allowed the bullets to strike his suit as he shot them, delivering one-hit kills each time.

"There's another factor," Kal said. "Keeping them from just manually blowing the bombs now that they know they can't remote trigger it, even if they thought it might bring you down."

"What's that?" Nyz asked as he shot another gunman down.

"If they only blow up part of the building," Kal said. "It won't take out the full building. Your appearance was a worst-case scenario for them. They can't just take out the building because you're taking them out, preventing them from accessing several of the bombs. Sure, they could do some damage to it, but not enough to cause the upper floors to collapse the way they need them to to actually drop the building."

"Ah."

Nyz finished dealing with the terrorists, then looked around to make sure he'd gotten them all. Everyone but the terrorists had fled the floor, and his glasses showed an alert had been made and soldiers were approaching.

"Asterox soldiers?" He asked. "In one of the Nubala Towers?"

"They're authorized to act as military in some situations," Kal reminded him. "They were on-scene outside already, helping the local military contain the area around the north tower. I've uploaded the locations of each of the bombs in there to your suit. Pair with one of them and download, then I'll perform the transfer."

Nyz hooked his gun to the backpack, then waited for the Asterox soldiers to arrive in their own black, Class B suits. They aimed their guns at him, taking up a formation.

"Put your hands in the air and surrender!" One of them called as Nyz read the names of each of them on his glasses, his suit identifying the soldiers even with their identities concealed by their suits and visors. "I repeat-"

"Isabella," Nyz turned his head to the soldier next to the one calling out, then held out his arm. "The terrorists placed bombs throughout this floor. The trigger is on a man dressed in a blue-gray jumpsuit with a vending machine logo on the left breast. You'll find it in his front right pocket. The signal is currently jammed. If you sync with me, I will give you the locations of each bomb, they're already recorded in my suit."

"How did you identify me?" She asked, holding up a hand to silence the other soldier.

"I'm with the Novran Division," he read off the name the appeared on his glasses. "I have other business to attend to if we're to stop these Gairal terrorists. Please sync up with me now so that I may move on to my next mission."

Isabella stepped forward as her fellow soldiers maintained sights on him, in case he tried something. Nyz almost laughed at how pathetic their attempts would be. Even military-grade equipment wouldn't work against him.

And that was before he put on a better-than-military combat suit.

She placed her arm beside his and they synced, then he transferred the locations of the bombs to her before taking several steps back.

"Perhaps we will run into each other again," Nyz told her.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Perhaps you'll find out," he told her.

"Transferring in three…"

"Or maybe you won't."

"Two…"

"What's the Novran Division?" She asked.

"One!"

Nyz found himself in another room. This one had a carpeted floor rather than tile, wood-paneled walls, decorative plants, and illuminated aquariums, along with plusher chairs and couches, polished wood tables, and several dozen men and women who were gagged, their hands tied behind their backs.

None of the hostages looked scared, which Nyz assumed meant they were past the initial terror of being held hostage and were waiting for rescue or release. Even if they were still afraid, which he knew they were, it was easier for them to deal with it after more than ten hours of waiting with little happening.

There were also six men walking about, each with an assault rifle, bulletproof vest, two handguns, and at least one combat knife and several spare magazines on them and in their cargo pants. All six of them aimed their guns at Nyz the moment he appeared and began firing, and the teen waited until they ran out of bullets from their initial attack.

"Before you attack again," Nyz spoke as they ejected their magazines and slid new ones into place. "Why don't we talk? If you refuse, my boss will detonate the bombs in this building himself."

The gunmen hesitated at his words, and Nyz noticed the prisoners starting to look worried, sensed their fear levels rising. He didn't plan on actually blowing up the building, but he still found that threat on his glasses, so he used it. Nyz never questioned why Kal had him say what he did.

"You shut down our operation in the west tower by force," one of the gunmen steps forward. "Then come over here for a talk? How did you appear in here, anyway?"

Nyz frowned as he read the question he was meant to ask, feeling his temper flare at the words. Two words that told him exactly why Kal wanted him to talk to them rather than simply eliminate them.

"How do you know about the Kumix Project?" He asked.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," the gunman said.

"You don't," Nyz said. "But someone above you does. Several someones. Tell them that unless they answer that question and my other ones, my boss will detonate the bombs himself. If someone attempts to prevent him from doing so, he will do so immediately."

The gunman put a hand to his ear.

"We have a situation," he said. "The soldier in the Class S is here, and he's wanting some answers I don't have. He says that unless he receives them, his boss will detonate the bombs, and will do so if any attempts at stopping that from happening occur. The first question is how we know about the Kumix Project, whatever the hell that is. Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Understood."

The gunman pulled his hand away from his ear.

"Someone will be here shortly," he told Nyz. "They'll bring you to a conference room where a video call with an upper member of our organization will speak with you."

Nyz waited a few minutes for the person to show up, then followed them to the next floor down, where he was shown into a dim conference room, the screen at one end showing the familiar face of the head of the Gairal terrorist organization, a gruff man in his late forties with salt-and-pepper hair and dark brown eyes. He was dressed in a suit and seated on an armchair in front of a wall, nothing identifying around him.

"Rikal Wern," Nyz said. "How interesting it is for you to be the one to answer the call."

"This is a secure conference," Rikal told him. "No one is able to access our communication here. You want to know about the Kumix Project."

"'No one is able to access our communication here'," Kal mocked in Nyz's ear. "You know, I was inside of it under a second the moment I tried. Then again, I'm a top-tier genius that puts all other geniuses to shame."

"Correction," Nyz said. "I already know about the Kumix project. I want to know how you know about it. All records of it were destroyed as far as I knew."

He and Kal were the ones who destroyed all traces of the project, killed everyone they found were aware of its details and purpose. With Kal's abilities, they'd thought they had found everyone linked to it.

"They were," Rikal told him. "Quite thoroughly, I might add. When I sent a crew to bring me the research, it was gone, even the servers they had been backed up on in a secure vault destroyed. Your presence confirms to me that it was the government who destroyed it, considering the illegal nature of the Kumix project."

"He's stalling," Kal muttered as a message appeared on Nyz's glasses.

"Stop stalling," Nyz said. "You're hoping to delay me long enough to avoid me stepping in and helping the military reclaim the gear you've requested. What I care about isn't that. I care about how you know about the Kumix Project and why you want it. Everyone associated with the project or aware of it was supposed to have been eliminated."

"I wasn't on any file regarding the project," Rikal told him. "At least, I am assuming that to be true. I was not a part of it. Fifteen years ago, I was approached by an old friend I had not heard form in a few years. He contacted me around the time I took over Gairal from its previous leader. The acquaintance informed me of the project over some drinks and told me that if I wanted a head start over others, he could ensure I could bid on the finished product when it was first ready for sale, though he said it might be another decade."

"But then the incident happened," Nyz said. "Where everyone associated with and all research and items relating to it were destroyed."

"It wasn't until after I learned of that," Rikal told him. "My friend told me it might be years before he contacted me again. It was three years ago when I finally learned it was being developed in Troak. I sent a unit out to investigate, but it was gone. When I attempted to look into it, I found that almost no one knew of the existence of it, and of those who did, they only knew that those associated with it had been slain by a mysterious assassin."

"Yet you believe there are still those who know its details," Nyz stated. "You wish to obtain either a finished product or the research so that you may produce it yourself."

"Yes," Rikal said. "If your superiors would negotiate with me regarding this matter, then I would be more than open to discuss payment regarding either the research or the final product."

"You believe my organization obtained the research?" Nyz asked.

"It was your organization which killed those associated with it, was it not?" Rikal asked. "Who destroyed what appeared to be all of the research, was it not? That is why you were insisting on learning how I knew about the project, was it not?"

"It was I, personally, who destroyed the research and killed them," Nyz told him. "I and one other person. We do not have records of the research. It was our belief that such a project was best left dead.

"Now," Nyz said. "It is time to turn Gairal into an even larger enemy of the world. After receiving the mech and combat suits, they destroyed the tower anyway, their operatives within giving up their lives to keep their secrets."

"Transferring in three…"

"The plan is to wait until-"

"Two…"

"-they're out of the city."

"One!"

Nyz found himself on a rooftop, then a moment later, heard the explosions. Turning, he faced the Nubala Towers, watching as one of them began to fall starting at the twenty-seventh floor. Due to being on a second-floor roof halfway across the city with buildings between him and the towers, Nyz was unable to see the ground level action. However, he knew that the soldiers on the ground would find their defensive barriers flickering on, shielding them from debris and dust.

"We aren't terrorists," Nyz said. "Why did you blow it up?"

"We aren't, you're right," Kal told him. "But Gairal is. I simply did what they were planning on doing, and have sent a message to the press under the guise of one of them saying they warned against any interference, and having military soldiers attack after dropping off the suits and mech counted. The military will release the video showing the agents dropping off the suits and mech, then leave as requested, the Gairal agents leaving without being hindered. This is to ensure the military takes them more seriously. The sacrifice of a few for the greater good. With these murders, the military will give Gairal no rest until it's effectively reduced to nothing. Back to the mission. Nyz, you're near where the group with the mech and suits are at, go intercept. You'll spot them in a moment."

Nyz listened, then turned to the direction he could hear twenty-six sets of wheels rolling. Bending his knees slightly, Nyz launched himself into the air, landing on the street several over from where he had been, blocking the path of the two-dozen terrorists in combat suits and the mech.

Built to take damage, the mech was modeled off a tiger in its form, complete with bright orange paint, though lacking stripes. Each leg ended in a foot with twelve wheels underneath, allowing it to roll across the ground with ease. Its mouth was fixed with a magic cannon, while a normal cannon was mounted to its back. Panels on its sides could open up to reveal guns able to fire up to seven thousand rounds per minute.

The enchanted plating made of an alloy of the resilient magical metal adamant allowed it to shrug off any attack from a Class C or lower weapon, and Class B weapons would be hard-pressed to damage it without repeated attacks. Only Class A or better could cause the combat mech problems. It was built to value power and defense over mobility, though it still had plenty of that as well.

The Gairal soldiers were positioned in a formation around the tiger mech, and the moment they saw Nyz, they stopped moving, the mech slowing to a halt as well.

Though they had the mech, the soldiers on the ground shot at Nyz, the mech itself remaining still as those in the back moved forward to assist with the fight. Several of the soldiers swapped out their magazines for more powerful rounds or crystal cartridges, though it didn't matter. All of the attacks which struck Nyz failed to penetrate his armor, rounds ricocheting off into the street around, others missing him entirely and striking the road or vehicles.

"Why aren't they using the mech?" Nyz asked with the helmet's speakers off, so that only Kal would hear.

"Probably to avoid doing too much damage to the town."

"They planned on blowing up two buildings," Nyz pointed out as the terrorist soldiers continued their assault. "And they're worried about a few more buildings when facing someone their attacks aren't having an effect against?"

"I'm not going to question it," Kal told him. "Kill the soldiers, disable the mech, kill its pilot. Minimal damage."

Nyz pulled a handgun from his hip.