The squad searching for the seal halted in the shadow of the stadium's broken archway.
"I've tracked the signal—it's right here." Anyu glanced down at his tablet, pointing toward the field ahead.
"You sure about that? I don't see anything," Kevin muttered, scanning the ruins. No trace of the seal.
"All I can tell you is that it's nearby. Exactly where—no idea." Anyu shrugged. "It's a civilian scanner, not military issue. Getting this close is already impressive."
The nonchalant attitude made Kevin bristle. The man had bragged about his professional precision earlier, and now the search radius was huge. Finding the seal could take hours.
Still, they couldn't navigate the Hollow without him. Kevin forced down his anger, deciding he'd find some excuse to shave the man's payment once they were out.
Frustrated, the balding programmer moved to start searching himself—but Ignis's massive hand stopped him.
"I see it. On the field." The HUD's telemetry had marked it—an etched seal lying amid the dead grass.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Kevin surged forward, only to be caught by Ignis's arm again.
"Something's off," the giant said flatly. "Anby and I will go. You stay here."
Kevin hesitated, but he knew better than to argue. The Space Marine had done most of the fighting and scouting during the mission. Even a layman could see the giant warrior's caution wasn't paranoia—it was instinct.
Anby nodded, following close behind. The wind howled through the open structure, the only sound in the air. Yet Ignis's sensor suite picked up faint chemical traces—someone else had been here recently.
He raised his head, switching to Fire-Sight. The world shifted into hues of infrared—but there was nothing. No heat signatures beyond their own squad. Everything was cold, lifeless.
Then—a flicker. A faint glimmer of yellow-green on the stands. It flashed for a split second, then vanished.
Hallucination? For a moment, even the Space Marine wondered if the Ether radiation was beginning to toy with his vision.
"I don't like this," Ignis muttered quietly. "Stay alert. There's something here."
"Understood." Anby tightened her grip on the chainsaw sword, her yellow eyes glinting under the dim ether light.
The seal was just beneath their boots—one step away. All Ignis had to do was reach down and take it.
He never got the chance.
A low thump—then the ground beneath him erupted, turf and dust scattering across his armor.
Ignis's HUD traced the bullet's trajectory instantly. The shot came from the grandstand—beneath one of the tattered plastic tarps.
Anby immediately shifted to cover his rear.
"Good afternoon, my dear sir and madam."
A man stepped out from a doorway under the bleachers, wearing a Defense Force combat uniform. He looked to be in his forties—a Canine Thiren, his head shaped like a wolf's, a red beret perched neatly between his ears.
"You can't touch that thing." He approached calmly, crouched, and picked up the seal.
"Who are you?" Ignis demanded. The man's uniform bore an emblem—two crossed hammers.
"Well, normally I'd expect the visitors to introduce themselves first," the officer said, tossing the seal up and catching it lazily. "But since I'm in a good mood today…"
He removed his beret and performed an exaggerated bow.
"The name's Captain John Redfield of Ironhammer Security—Third Battalion, Second Company. Some call me as the Little Red Riding Hood, though anyone who does rarely keeps their throat intact."
"Our company was contracted to ensure that this seal remains untouched—by anything."
John's eyes glinted with amusement as he looked Ignis and Anby over.
"That includes people. We worked hard to clear the surrounding Ethereals to keep this area secure."
"Now then—who exactly are you?"
"Ignis Demara of the Cunning Hares. This is Anby Demara." The giant's voice was firm. "We were contracted to retrieve that seal."
The red-bereted captain's gaze lingered on Anby's weapon. "Interesting piece you've got there, miss. But as I said, my job is to make sure no one touches this item. So, if you don't mind—please leave."
Kevin, watching from the entrance, felt his stomach twist. A Defense Force officer? Or something even bigger? He wasn't sure anymore whether he'd stumbled into corporate trouble—or a military black op.
"I can get you out alone," Anyu whispered. "We can ditch them."
"No. I need that seal," Kevin shot back immediately.
"Our client, a partner at Intellision Tech, hired us to retrieve this corporate seal," Ignis said evenly. "You can verify it—there's text engraved on its surface."
"I don't care." Captain John shook his head. "Our contract states that no one touches it until the mission timer expires. So, either wait here… or leave."
He raised a gloved fist, signaling.
The tarps on the bleachers flipped up—revealing entrenched heavy machine gun nests, barrels already trained on the intruders.
The soldiers wore insulated gear—that's why there were no heat signatures.
"In that case," John continued coolly, "Ironhammer Security will be forced to use lethal force."
He looked utterly confident. His unit had already cleared the Ethereal swarms—these two interlopers were nothing compared to that.
"What if I refuse?" Ignis's voice dropped low. "I'm taking that seal—today."
"Then negotiations are over." The captain bared his fangs in a predator's grin, his tail flicking with excitement. "We settle this the old-fashioned way."
He clapped twice. The bleacher wall cracked open—and a squad of heavily armored troopers marched out in sync.
They wore "Gray Rhino" heavy combat armor, elite gear even by Defense Force standards. Each carried a shoulder-mounted laser cannon folded along their back, connected to a multi-barrel rotary gun via a massive ammo drum.
Their firepower was overwhelming. A head-on clash would tear Anby apart before she even reached the front.
"I think, Mr. Demara," John said smoothly, "you now understand the situation. We hold the field, and the firepower. Walk away."
"Hey, Ignis," Anby whispered. "Remember when you threw me that one time?"
He turned slightly. "…Yeah?"
"Do it again. Into their heavy line. There's a blind spot in their firing angle—they won't risk hitting their own men. I'll break the line and destroy their gun nests. After that—it's your turn."
Her tone was calm, surgical—dangerous and determined.
"Believe me," she added softly, catching his worried look, "I know what I'm doing."
"If you get hurt, Nicole's gonna kill me," Ignis muttered, exhaling through his teeth. "Be careful."
He took a few slow steps back, raising his hands as if to de-escalate. "Alright, alright—we're leaving. Don't get trigger-happy."
He shifted Anby behind him, his armored frame shielding her from sight.
"No need to panic," John said, satisfied. "We're professionals, not mercenary thugs. No one's dying today."
He smirked. "Good. That's it. Keep backing up. No one gets hurt."
Anby braced herself, gripping the seams of Ignis's Mark X Gravis Power Armor, crouched like a coiled spring.
"Little Red!" Ignis suddenly bellowed, his voice echoing through the arena. "You've got a lot of men here—and a decent setup—but you look like a damn basket case! I'm taking that hat off your skull!"
"What the—?!" John's ears flattened.
"The seal's engraved, you blind mutt! You can't even read it?!"
The captain's composure cracked. He couldn't let that insult slide—not in front of his men.
"I told you!" he snarled. "Anyone who calls me Little Red—I slit their throat!"
He swung his hand down. The heavy troopers raised their cannons, laser cores flaring to life.
"Die, you bastard!"
Ignis charged forward, the ground trembling beneath his boots—drawing every eye, every barrel—
—then hurled Anby through the air like a missile.