Armone tabbed his eyepiece, listening to what his overseer had to say. In while his four subordinates waited patiently in their squad room, anticipating for what to come.

After a moment, Armone removed his hand from the helmet, then he turned to meet his squad, a grim expression on his face “An attack at medicine storehouse. We need to be there in ten.”

“Finally!” Paul said with a wide smile. He quickly went to the gun stand and threw each squad member their respective weapon. Armone caught his, which had silver linings across its surface, manufactured only for the use of a sergeant, with more firepower and options. This would be the first time he would use it against real people.

“Garret, it is your shift to be in charge of the extra equipment, do you have them prepared?” Armone hastily asked.

The teen in question nodded, gesturing to the bag that slung by his side.

“Let’s move then,” Armone told his squad, and they exited out of their squad room in great haste. From there they half march-half ran through the great barrack and into the street below, the moon glow light their way through the nightly path.

“Sergeant…” Jackson called Armone as they moved to their destination, raising his speed to match up with his pace “I know I’m ready…but my hands are shaking.”

Armone shifted his eyes to the boy, though not very noticeable, his solar gun was vibrating through his palm.

“This will be your first real battle, so it is natural to be nervous.” He told Jackson in an effort to calm his nerves.

The boy shook his head “But even Yillid…”

“Everyone had their own way of handling stress.” Armone said “Even now, she might be dreading the experience as much as you do. But for the moment, try regulated your breath and remembered your training.”

Jackson nodded; the face under his visor seemed to be slightly more relaxed “As you say, sergeant.”

Armone returned, though a small concern started to form in his mind. From the training he arranged for his squad these past few weeks, he found Jackson to be the least talented member of their group, only slightly better than Hillar when starting out.

Armone gave a careful look at his subordinate. With his dark hair and sharp feature, Jackson had the look of Jacob, though sadly none of his talent. The late sergeant was a man of legend, after all, so no doubt the recruiter wished for another in his younger brother, and perhaps that was the reason this boy rise this far.

‘It makes no matter. What not good can always be improved.’ Armone thought, Jackson was quite eager to prove himself on a battlefield, so he would surely become an excellent guard in time.

Paul tabbed his wrist device, displaying the map of industry district “A few more turns and we should be there.”

Armone nodded and turned on his gun “Everyone, have your weapons ready. We do not know what to expect.”

Finally, his squad reached their destination, a medium-size warehouse stood by the road, intercept on both sides by other warehouses with tiny alleyway between them. Several watchmen were at the scene before they did, standing over its entrance. They gave a respectful nodded when his squad arrived.

“What’s the situation?” Armone asked the guards. He remembered their names in his time as a watchman, but it would be unprofessional to greet them now, with so much occurring.

“A group of commoners, several of them armed, had sneaked into the warehouse in an attempt to steal medicine.” One of them explained “Luckily we were patrolling this very area at the same time and managed to trap them inside. Our overseers, however, had told us that the order will send a squadron to handle the situation.”

Armone nodded “Thank you very much, we will take it from here.”

They nodded and moved aside, no doubt waiting by to serve as a backup. Armone turned to look at the warehouse, which seemed to have a sign of recent battle, with shattered and blasted wall and door wedged together.

“Paul and Jackson, you two secure the perimeter.” Armone commanded, trying to remember what was taught to him in leadership training “See if there are any other entrances. For Yillid and Garret, go secure the door, the thieves might come out at any moment.”

All of his squad gave a salute and split to do as he commanded, while Armone himself tabbed his earpiece to gather more information.

“Quinn, I need footages from the security camera inside the warehouse.” He told his overseer.

“I’m afraid that is not possible, sergeant.” Quinn replied, her voice distorted through the communication line” They had broken all surveillances in the area upon entering.”

Armone shook his head “Then can you check on the camera’s last footage to determine their numbers and how many of them are equipped with weapons?”

“I will see what I can do.” She said and cut away.

Paul and Jackson choose this moment to return “There is a bigger entrance for truck outback, but there is a fingerprint scanner, and only distributioners or the supreme leader can open it.” Paul reported and pointed at the wedged door “That door is the only one they got.”

“We can try going through the back.” Jackson suggested, “I try the front door, and it seems to be locked from the inside.”

“Jackie, I once see that sort of door opening before.” Yillid spoke out against it, when she and Garret came to join them “Seeing how slow it is, they will probably be alerted far before we can squeeze ourselves in.”

Jackson bit his lips “I suppose you are right.”

Yillid smiled, which would have been pretty if half her teeth were not broken “I always am.”

Armone decided to ignore them and tabbed on his headpiece, for Quinn had returned to make her report.

“From the footages, I managed to gather, there are thirteen of them inside the warehouse, six with solar guns, the rest armed with sticks and knives. Their position scattered around the warehouse.” She told him “But that was near 20 minutes ago. So be careful, sergeant.”

Armone nodded “Thank you, I will call again if we need anything.”

“And one more thing, you do realize who they are, right?”

“I do,” Armone responded, his throat tightened as he did.

“Best of luck then, sergeant.”

Armone turned back to his squad, who was hearing to the first half of the report as well “Six guns, one more than us, huh.” Paul said.

Garret glanced at the few watchmen waiting by the corner “If we request for their helps we would have the advantage.”

Armone shook his head “Our squad is tasked with this mission, we must do it by ourselves” He then pointed at the warehouse’s front door “We are going in through there. Garret, ready the explosive.”

The boy gave a quick salute and went through the bag of equipment, bringing out a brick-like object, attached with multiples set of wire and counter screen, and started implanting it on the door.

‘He is more or less the most reliable of the younglings.’ Armone thought. Light hair and tall for his age, Garret was always dutiful and obedient, always put the good of the mission first. That was why Armone made him the third-in-command, after him and Paul. His lover, on the other hand…

Armone turned to Yillid, who was checking on her wrist device again, swiping through map and information to pass the time. Quite a wildcard, that one, considerably the most talented fighter of the three. From her curved features and short brown hair, she might have been a beautiful young girl, but her broken teeth hindered it completely. Armone had heard a rumor that on her picking day, Yillid used a hammer to smash her mouth, ripping apart half her teeth as to not be picked as a courtesan. He did not know if it was true or not, and hoped it was just that, a rumor, for such a capital offense that bordered near treason was a crime punishable by death. As her sergeant, Armone had the ability to command her to tell the truth, but he rather not knew.

‘Not to mention her stupid feud with Jackson is getting problematic.’ Armone thought with a shook of a head. Though they were willing to cooperate with each other when they were commanded to, he afraid that such a resentment that born from virtually nothing might compromised the squad one of these days.

Armone gave out a long sigh, a few days after he was selected as a sergeant; Hillar had had told him ‘You are not the one who picked your squad members, so you must learn to live with them.’ And he supposed those words had some truth to it. He shifted his sight to the three of them, all still needed guidance in their own way…

‘With Mathos and Markis gone forever, they are likely the closest thing to a son I will ever going to get.’ Armone thought sadly.

He shook the thought of his two lost sons away and looked at the warehouse. There was little to no doubt that the people trying to steal the medicines were part of the same rebel group that spirited away a large amount of city’s populant in the recent picking day. But ever since then, it was complete radio silence on what they were up to. For all Armone knew, this might be the first time they remerged from their hiding hole.

‘Perhaps one of my sons might even be in that very warehouse…’ Armone thought, and his hands started to shake. Quickly, he swung his solar gun over his shoulder and reached to his armor’s belt. Strapped on it was a bottle of pills, which he pulled open the lid then swallowed a handful of it, which managed to calm his nerve. For the past few days, the distributioners were conscripting these medicines to him, and though it had taken it tolled to his daily points, the pills helped Armone dealt with his emotions very well.

Armone lets his eyes refocused as the medicines took effect, letting the rush of chemical flew through his body. In the process he looked at the night sky, the only things that could be seen tonight was a shining full moon, its glow’s strangely beautiful. He wondered what was left of his family was doing right now. Since he knew early on that he would had a night shift at this day, Armone had asked his wife to pick up Beth from school, so by this time they should be in bed by now. Silva had been getting a little better now lately; she managed to get back to work and taking care of herself. Though everything she did was somewhat sluggish, like she always got something in mind, and every morning Armone would found her sitting in the living room, gazing out through the same window…

“Sergeant” Garret called, handing him a switch to the explosive “It is done.”

Armone shook his head; he had time to think about his personal problem later. For this moment, he had to focus on the now. And with that, he took the switch and turned to face his squad.

“Everyone, get out of the blast distance,” Armone told them. The last thing he wanted now was getting his squad injured on their first proper mission. When everyone was safely stood back, Armone took a deep breath and pressed the button.

Immediately the explosive set at the center of the door gave a click and exploded into a blast of fire and smoke. The force of explosion swung the door inward, bending it inside out and ripped away from the wall. The explosive also caused a loud ringing sound as well, which could easily fracture an eardrum if stood near it enough, and even not could still make anyone temporary lose their hearing. But guard helmets prevented that, so his squad was completely protected.

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” Armone shouted, and his squad burst into the warehouse.

As per expected, a few of the rebels had stood next to the door, with the intention of ambushing any guards who tried to force themselves in. Two of them now lied on the floor with burnt skin and raptured ear, both equipped with solar guns. Upon entering, Paul fired his weapon at both of their heads to put them out of their misery.

“Spread out!” Armone commanded his squad, and they split apart to attack all of the area at once. Since the rebels were still in a state of shock from the explosion, He employed a fast attack strategy to subjugate them as effectively as possible.

Armone took a left turn around the stand crate, and then quickly climbed up the ladder to the hanging over the stack of crates filled with medicines. Of course, before coming to his squad had studied the warehouse’s layout, so they knew where to go and where to strike.

When Armone emerged to the metal hanging, he found three rebels standing over it by the other sides. Only one of them was armed with solar guns, other twos only wielding a hard wooden stick and a crowbar respectively. All three were still dazed from the explosion.

Armone quickly kneeled behind the railing and steadied her breath, which gave him enough time to see that none of them were one of his sons, nor anyone he knew. He then pressed the solar gun’s trigger, firing a blast of concentrated energy across the warehouse, piecing through the solar gun-equipped rebel’s head, killing the thief instantly.

The other twos, though perhaps had not regained their hearing, still noticed their friend falling lifeless onto the ground. One of them yanked the solar gun from the corpse of her dead comrade, while the other swung himself around and ran along the railing toward Armone.

‘That one is either brave, or mad.’ He thought as he cocked his gun, the boy was barely fifteen, no older than his son. But Armone then instead aimed his weapon at the girl, who was trying to activate her newly acquired solar gun. At a quick glance, Armone could see that she had rarely handled a gun before, but regardless Armone knew she could still cause harm with that weapon, his decade of experience taught him that. So with another shot, he took her down.

But when Armone managed to cock his gun again, the last rebel had reached him faster than he expected. The boy swung his crowbar at Armone, and for being caught off-guard, he instinctively raised his left arm to block the attack, letting it take the majority of the blow instead. Armone had to bit into his lip to endure the pain.

Despite that, he knew he must make a comeback. He let himself backed up against the railing to stay balance and use his unhurt arm to fire his solar gun’s third blast. But alas, such a fire could not be done accurately, so the blast instead hit the thief in the shoulder, which though luckily managed to knock the boy backward.

“The upper level is neutralized,” Armone spoke into his headpiece quietly, his left arm still throbbing with pain from the crowbar. Though his body armor protected him from breaking any bone, he had a feeling that he would be feeling this agony for a few days. Not to mention, with the pain so great now, he would not be able to use his solar gun properly for a while.

Armone swung his gun over his back then turned to the wounded rebel, who was trying to hold in the blood that was gaping from his shoulder. With a quick contemplation, Armone kicked the crowbar off the platform then used the handcuff from his belt to tie both of the boy’s hands to the railing, taking away his ability to move.

“Stay here,” Armone told him. The boy’s wound was not fatal, though perhaps would render one of his arms useless forever, but it made no matter. If these thieves truly were the same rebel group from the picking day, which they likely are, then perhaps some interrogation and torture could make this boy spit out where their base of operation was. Armone knew he was acting out of order, for he was commanded to simply subjugate the thief, but maybe, just maybe, it might mean a quick end to the threat of the city.