Phase One (1): The success of the mission is the only thing that mattered

"The target is hiding in the sector east of the building. You have five minutes before the bomb explodes. If it does, you will be infected, and we will be in the obligation to execute you. G-G...o...d-d lu-u-u-k J-Jaeger. Ove..."

The message ended in a wave of electronic interferences. The man let out a fustrated sigh: the line had been disconnected.

"Damnit," cursed Rhett, throwing the transmitter to the ground. The blue screen cracked, letting him see a deformed and static version of Zacharius and his hideous VR glasses before it shattered under the weight of his heel.

A few sparks emitted from the device before the electric components burst out, tangled with ripped and mashed copper wires. A sudden electric blue flashed as a small metallic spider emerged from the remnants, crawling at an unnatural speed.The hunter shot two times. Ultrasound waves escaped from the weapon, destroying every electronic object in a range of ten meters. Around him, he watched the buildings turn dark as the light source died. The bug exploded into thin iron dust.

"I hate those things," he commented to himself, sliding back the rectangular-like gun into his belt. The weapon retracted until it became a small cube fitting in the empty hole. An horrific cry echoed underneath his feet.

Rhett clenched his jaw. Through the roof, he could see a massive, blurry silhouette wandering in the main hall. The infected knew about his presence; it won't be long before he finds his position. The hunter cursed himself for neglecting to check his transmitter. 'It will teach me to trust Alexei.'

He checked his watch; four minutes and twenty-one seconds remained before the explosion. He didn't have time for regrets or thoughts. The success of his mission was the only thing that mattered. He took a deep breath before taking out a second gun.It was an old model from the twenty-first century, one that shot real bullets. Without any hesitation, he pulled the trigger, aiming for his feet. The fragile glass roof broke, and he fell down forty stores.

Protecting his face from the shreds, he felt the gravity pulling him toward his death and the harsh wind running through his hair. The dark mass grew closer.

"Lupus!" he yelled, his voice invading the hall.

The sound of his voice awakens the AI trapped in his suit; the thin bulletproof vest instantly becomes hard plaques; his combat boots morphed into steel thick hard protection. His collar expanded, enveloping his neck and face. It left no bare skin, creating a black armor striped with dark crimson codes. The lines flowed around the smooth surface, programming it at each movement to offer him the best protection.

Nanotechnology, this damn invention. It was the root of their deadliest problem, and ironically, their only solution.

He opened his eyes as information and figures appeared, pointing out the best exit routes and searching for any survivor. His vision turned red. He fell on his knees just on time, as an electromagnetic blast exploded where his head was an instant ago. He pivoted and threw a powerful kick to the infected. The humanoid-like creature looked at him with blue pixelized eyes, glitching at every step it took. The deformed face let out a twisted robotic snarl, leaving an opening. He didn't waste any time and landed another punch at its throat before shooting in its eye. A burst of pixel-like clouds escaped from the wounds, blinding the Jeager for a short instant. The infected fell on the floor.

Something felt hot and burning inside his legs; he lowered his gaze. The red program bandelets were swirling around them at an alarming speed. He broke some bones in the fall. He pressed down on the red line, turning on the medical protocol. He couldn't see the long needles, but he clearly felt the sharp tips plunging into his flesh.

Two minutes and five seconds

The message blocked part of his vision before a map appeared, leading him to the next room. Rhett tapped two times his forehead before the nanomaterial slid off his face like a snake, melting into his collar. Rushing through the empty building, he didn't pay attention to the destroyed desks, the torn walls, or the two corpses blocking his way.

'How could an infection this weak manage to cause this amount of damage?' he thought before shaking his head. He had better things to do than pay attention to the rampage of random glitches.

One minute and thirty-eight seconds

He kicked the broken door before bursting into the room. A woman was lying in a pool of blood. She let out a scream of horror as he walked toward a white cubic device sitting on a glass desk. Taking it in his left hand, he crushed it immediately, ignoring the intense heat radiating through his fingers. When he opened his fist, only a strange-shaped ball was left. He threw the destroyed bomb away and tapped his ear.

"Start. Here Rhett. First Division. The two threats have been dealt with. Heading to the headquarters right away. Requesting a team of healers. At least one survivor. Over."

A small clicking noise confirmed that his message has been sent.

'Finally,' he sighed, 'it's over.'

The image of a hot bath and a night of sleep imposed itself in his mind. He allowed himself three seconds of rest, feeling an unpleasant mist starting to shroud his focus. The anesthetic was stronger than he expected, leaving him wondering to what extent his body was injured. He could not afford more; even if he killed the infected, the risk of staying inactive was too high. He turned back around, his heavy combat boots mantaining firmly his injured legs like a metallic cast. He strated to walk toward the exit, crushing the pieces of pots, glass, and printers. Something moved in the corner of his vision.

"W-Wait! Please help me!"

The plea of the woman barely reached his ear, but he still tilted his head toward her. She was in a pitiful state. Her glasses were broken. The left side of her face was covered in blood. Her messy blond hair rested on her shredded silver sleeveless shirt.

"I called a team of healers; they will be there in three minutes," he responded flatly, without blinking in front of her appearance.

She opened her mouth in shock, letting out a silent gasp. She grabbed his sleeve, his suit turned hard, ready to protect him. "Please," she begged, putting her forehead against his palm, "it hurts so much."

The contact was lumewark and unsettling: 'I don't want any more blood on my suit.'

"Your injuries will get life-threatening in fifteen minutes; you are going to be alright. A team will arrive before this deadline," he answered with any once of sympathy in his cold voice.

He pulled away from her grip, abandoning her to her fate. He walked back down the main entrance, hearing the faint sound of hesitant steps.

'How reckless,' he sighed, closing his eyes before shrugging: it wasn't his problem after all if she didn't want to listen to him. Whether she lived or not wasn't his problem. He saved the rest of the suburb. Sacrifices were necessary, and the deaths of the victims should be honored, but caring for someone who was willing to endanger themselves by ignoring the direct advice of a Jaeger wasn't a loss worth caring about.

His sharp gray eyes lifted, and he observed the area. The ninty-meter ceiling, the transparent walls, the stillness of the wind, and the minimalist offices lining into a perfect symmetry made the entire place look like an infinite reflection.

"How empty."

The comment escaped from his lips without any notice. He lifted his hand and placed it on his chest. With the layers separating his palm from his skin, it was impossible for him to even feel the slight warmth of his body, not even the movement of his chest changing with every breath he took. Let alone the faint sound of his heartbeat.

He knew he wouldn't find what he sought, yet a cold stubbornness drove him forward.

A faint sound made him turn around. He grabbed one of his cubs. When he pointed his hand toward the source of the disturbance, the small object had turned into a gun. Fifty meters away from him, the injured woman had stumbled down holding her stomach with a firm clutch, her face paler than a few minutes ago.

Rhett clicked his tongue, feeling his body tensening, "Damnit! I told you to wait! I..."

The rest of his sentence died as, next to the woman, an exact copy of her appeared looking completely clueless. The two women judged each other with widened eyes, mirroring their movements as they touched their faces, necks, and hair. Despite the gruesome circumstances, an uncanny curiosity pushed the original to stay still in front of her copy, if it wasn't another emotion. Whatever her motive was for not running away, he didn't have time to ponder about it.

Rhett reached for his ear, "Start. Here Rhett. First Division. New threat. Infected skill: shifter."

His aim swung between the two women, who was real and who was fake. There was no way to know before the infected released an attack and spread its virus to them. The healers were going to arrive at any second down. He couldn't hesitate.

He inhaled and shot.

Both of them.