Inside the fast-food restaurant at that moment—
Mike sat by the floor-to-ceiling window, eating the local synthetic meal while his in-ear implant intercepted every special signal fluctuation within three kilometers — including the encrypted communications of the tower's security system.
Suddenly, his pupils contracted slightly, and he warned, "They've increased scanning stations. From B2 to B6, biometric monitoring precision just went up three hundred percent."
Hearing this, Chris immediately sent a warning to Leon:
"Pull out now. If necessary, we'll execute Contingency C and release the strategic-class bioweapon."
Over in Leon's location—
The server room lights abruptly shifted to a harsh blue, the precursor to a system scan.
Reacting instantly, Leon pulled the data spike free and, from his waist, took out a small device which he affixed to the server rack.
It was an "Memory Worm," developed by the Imperial Engineering Institute — able to continue data theft autonomously without human oversight.
By the time the first scanning beam pierced the walls, Leon's figure had already merged into the shadows of the ventilation ducts.
The spectral beam swept through the spot where he'd stood moments before, detecting only the normal heat signature of server cooling systems.
"Scan complete," the security AI's voice echoed down the corridor. "No intrusion detected."
Meanwhile, in the building's mid-level auditorium—
The seats were steadily filling with delegates from all sectors.
The front rows held well-dressed military brass and politicians, their seats equipped with privacy shields to block any possible surveillance.
The middle was crowded with the hovering spherical holo-recorders of major media outlets, shifting focus like a swarm of hungry eyes.
The back rows were lined with junior officers and clerks, standing at attention; even a cough had to be kept under regulated decibel limits.
Leon, crawling through the ventilation system, "accidentally" arrived above the auditorium — from here, he could clearly overhear the generals in the front row whispering:
"Heard about that Mar Sara portal…"
"…First Expeditionary Fleet needs more psi-disruptor warheads…"
"…Reliable intel says the Terran Empire has a War Goddess. We should try to capture her alive…"
Condensation beaded on the metal surface of the duct, breaking Leon's silhouette into fragmented reflections.
His implant recorded every arrogant declaration below.
Those UED dignitaries sat in their leather chairs, the stars on their collars glinting under the spotlights, oblivious to the fact that death hung right above them, separated only by the ventilation grate.
"The Terran Empire's War Goddess Athena has immense research value."
The speaker, a gray-templed fleet admiral, his cybernetic eye glinting coldly, traced an attack route across the holo-map. "Capturing the target alive is now SS priority. This will be the key to breaking the bio-tech of the other universe."
Heh.
Leon's lips curled into a faint, disdainful smile.
These office-bound bureaucrats had no idea what kind of being they were discussing.
He had personally witnessed Athena on the battlefields of Char, single-handedly tearing through a Zerg tide.
The radiance of her Spear of Victory was enough to make even the most fanatical Protoss zealot tremble. And now this bunch of fools — who didn't even comprehend what a Warp Demon was — thought to shackle a true deity?
A faint tremor ran through the duct.
Leon's AR visor immediately tagged the source —
Two security drones patrolling a lower duct, their spherical joints giving off that telltale metallic scrape.
Slowly, he drew the pulse dagger from the sheath strapped to his thigh. Its special coating could instantly disable any electronic system. If it came to it, the robots would be first, followed by every high-value officer and general within his reach.
At that moment, Chris's encrypted voice cut in:
"The Memory Worm's at 87% completion. Hoffman's schedule says he'll head alone to the underground garage in three hours."
Once the drones moved off, Leon's muscles loosened.
An "accident" in Hoffman's private skimmer would be far more in line with their mission than chaos in front of an audience.
The midday press conference, as expected, was painting the situation in the Koprulu sector and laying groundwork for a full-scale campaign against the Terran Empire, which had replaced the Dominion.
UED intelligence had confirmed suspicions — a possible inter-universe portal on Mar Sara. For a massive-population state like UED, the lure was irresistible.
Leon, Mike, and Chris's plan was to gather enough intel, then quietly eliminate certain power-holding UED officers and generals to stir disorder and derail UED's immediate deployments.
Leon shifted in the duct, letting the nano-suit mold perfectly to the walls, continuing to listen.
Below, the projection switched to an orbital scan of Mar Sara. A red-circled area was magnified, but the resolution was pitiful — clearly UED spies couldn't approach the core zone. That was where the portal lay.
"The expeditionary fleet will be outfitted with our latest quantum anchors," Warp Technology Director Raines said as she rose, her manicured nails pointing to several blue dots on the map. "Once we lock onto Mar Sara's frequency, we can establish a stable two-way warp corridor — at four times the speed of our existing FTL drives."
Leon frowned.
The officials and generals below had locked their sights firmly on Mar Sara.
Clap~— Clap~—!
His thoughts were broken by a sudden swell of applause.
The projection shifted to a grand fleet, thousands of warships arraying in synchronized orbit.
A young officer leapt to his feet, flushed with excitement: "This is the kind of power that will crush any barbarians!"
Leon shook his head silently.
These poor fools didn't realize the Terran Empire's ships were "bigger hammer, bigger brick" designs, with "caliber first" as doctrine. Even the macro-cannon shells of the Emperor-class battleships were packed with antimatter rounds blessed by Hera herself.
If the UED fleet warped to Mar Sara, they wouldn't be facing the savages they imagined — but "angels of death" forged in millions of battles.
"Anomalous airflow detected."
A security AI's voice rose from below.
Leon froze.
His presence had indeed altered the duct's airflow patterns. He activated his mimicry layer, syncing his surface temperature perfectly with the duct, and pressed the dagger's tip to the grate's edge, ready to throw.
Five seconds…
Ten seconds…
No alarm.
The press conference moved into the Q&A. A reporter wearing a neural link headband stood: "General, how would you compare the combat strength of Dominion remnants and the Terran Empire?"
An elderly general on stage gave a confident smile:
"Mengsk's old guard is a snake with its fangs pulled. As for the so-called Terran Empire—"
He paused deliberately. "—nothing more than nouveau riche scavengers of higher civilizations' scrap."
In the duct, Leon's fists clenched.
Truth be told, he wanted to drop down right now and show this old bastard how a "nouveau riche" blade sliced through a throat.
But the mission timer on his HUD kept him in check — 6 minutes 23 seconds until the Memory Worm's data pull was complete.
Chris's voice returned: "Mike's tagged seven high-value targets. Their personal devices are seeded with trackers. Recommend prioritizing Raines — her research poses the greatest danger."
Leon tapped his throat mic to confirm.
His gaze locked on the female scientist below.
Just then, a rush of air surged through the duct as the building's climate system adjusted.
Leon used the chance to slide backward, the shadows wrapping around him like a living thing. Before vanishing fully into the dark, he took one last glance at the ambitious faces below.
When night fell, death would ride the datastream to visit every one of them.
And when the UED fleet finally warped to Mar Sara, they'd find not prey, but hunters who had long since set the trap.
Creak.
From the duct's metal seam came a faint, almost inaudible sound.
Leon paused — the nano-boots told him the steel beneath his feet was sagging slightly.
Muscles tensed instinctively — too late.
Bang—Crack—!
With the brittle snap of metal fatigue, the entire section of duct collapsed like a snake losing its spine!
Thump—!
The plush carpet absorbed most of the impact, but the rush of air sent the scientist's datapad spinning away.
Leon twisted in midair, landing on one knee, left hand bracing, right hand already drawing the pulse dagger.
In the next instant, he was a lightning bolt ripped into reality, utterly out of place amid the blue glow of holos and the white flashes of reporters' cameras.
??!!
The hall froze into an eerie stillness.
Thousands of eyes locked on the intruder who had dropped from the ceiling.
Closest to him was Warp Technology Director Raines. Her perfectly shaped brows had just risen, lips parting for a scream—
Leon moved faster than her vocal cords.
He lunged like a hunting cat, the dagger's spine striking her carotid with precision — enough to disable without killing.
As she collapsed, he caught her around the waist, pulling the high-value hostage against him.
The dagger's point pressed to her temple, the special coating glinting ominously purple under the lights.
"Good afternoon, everyone."
Leon's tone carried a self-mocking edge, as if joking about his "luck," then added, "Looks like UED's building quality is just as full of… surprises as your military strategy."
Click—Click—!
The reporters snapped out of their shock, ordering their cameramen to work. A flood of blinding flashes erupted.
One bold drone pilot sent their camera buzzing right up to Leon's face.
"Don't move! Release Director Raines!"
From multiple angles, over a dozen security personnel closed in. Their neuro-paralysis guns crackled with blue arcs, fully charged.
But none dared fire — Raines was worth more than all of them combined.
Leon's visor mapped the nearest breakout route. In his ear, Chris's calm voice said, "Mike's hacked the fire system. East corridor will be full of smoke in thirty seconds."
"Release the hostage now!"
The security captain's voice cracked from tension, finger tight on the trigger but unwilling to risk it.
Leon smiled suddenly.
Backing away with Raines, every step was calculated to stay out of direct fire lanes: "Relax, gentlemen. I just want to discuss a little quantum physics with the lady."
The grand UED fleet still cycled in the holo projection behind him — now a perfect satirical backdrop.
The gray-templed admiral's face was dark as iron, his cybernetic eye twitching focus wildly — as if refusing to believe someone could get through all that security to stand here.
"Seize him!" the admiral barked at last. "Mobilize—"
Bzzzzzzz!
The blare of the fire alarm cut him off, echoing through the building.
The east corridor's sprinklers roared to life, flooding the auditorium with thick gray smoke that rolled in like a living tide, swallowing a third of the space.
Leon took the opening, dragging Raines toward the nearest emergency exit.
The camouflage layer of his jacket began strobing at high frequency, making him flicker in and out of sight in the haze.
A neuro-dart hissed past his shoulder, bursting into a web of blue plasma on the wall.
"Mike, I need a clean path!" Leon called.
"On it," came the reply, keys clattering. "Elevator shaft's ours, but you've gotta cut through the press pit — watch the one in the red suit."
From the smoke surged a figure — a high-clearance security agent, pupils dilated with adrenaline, a weapon flashing from his sleeve:
"First kill's mine!"
Leon didn't even break stride.
He slipped past, the dagger's hilt cracking the man's jaw, sending him limp into a rack of holo-recorders.
"Sorry," Leon quipped to the unconscious man, "I'll give you the credit some other time."
Kicking open the fire door to the stairwell, the building's lights abruptly went black.
As emergency lights flicked on, Leon saw a dozen nano-suited figures waiting below—
"Tardiness is a bad habit,"
Mike's voice came from behind the lead visor.
He tossed Leon a pulse pistol. "We've jammed the entire floor's surveillance — ninety-second window."
Chris was calibrating his wrist display, the holo-map showing the tangled underground conduits. "Garage is forty meters straight down. Hoffman's skimmer's already in place — though the owner probably won't be using it."
The scientist squirmed weakly in Leon's grip — until Mike stepped in and injected a sedative.
"Sleep, Doctor," he said. "When you wake, you'll understand… you've provoked something you shouldn't have."
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