Deep within a facility that existed between the cracks of reality, in a chamber that was less a room and more a conceptual space for planning, eight figures were assembled. There were no chairs, no table. They stood in a circle, their forms shimmering with restrained power, their silhouettes illuminated by the cold, blue light of data streams that flowed around them like spectral rivers. These were not the silver-masked Architects, the masterminds. These were their instruments. Their scalpels. Designation: Strike Team Epsilon.
The leader's voice was the first to cut through the digital hum. It was a voice like grinding glaciers, calm and utterly pitiless.
"The directive is confirmed," spoke General Valerius Kael. His form was the most solid of the eight, broad-shouldered and clad in what appeared to be segmented, onyx armor that seemed to drink the light. His face was sharp, severe, with eyes that held the cold, strategic emptiness of deep space. A veteran of a hundred silent wars on a hundred broken worlds. "The experiment has produced an unacceptable anomaly. Two targets have been designated for immediate culling."
A holographic schematic materialized in the center of their circle. It showed a mountain range, with a thermal and topological overlay zeroing in on a subterranean structure—the bunker.
"Primary Target: Designation Eva-01, Prime," Kael continued. A file image of Eva appeared, her genetic code streaming beside it. "The unchangeable constant. Her existence proves a flaw in our foundational control parameters. She represents a potential for rebellion that cannot be allowed to propagate. She is to be erased."
A second image flickered to life next to Eva's. It was a blur, a heat signature that defied conventional analysis, a figure wreathed in impossible energies.
"Secondary Target: Designation Wolfen Welfric, Anomaly," Kael's voice held a rare note of caution. "An outside-context problem. His capabilities remain unquantified. He operates on principles that predate and resist our Directive. He is a wild variable that threatens the integrity of the entire experiment. He is to be terminated with extreme prejudice."
A slender figure to Kael's right, her form seeming to be made of interlocking silver filaments, spoke next. Her voice was a whisper of slicing wires. "The parameters of engagement, General?"
"The parameters are absolute, Silas 'Stitch' Mordain," Kael replied, nodding to the team's infiltration and sabotage expert. "You are authorized to penetrate their defenses by any means necessary. The bunker is irrelevant. Any and all ancillary subjects found within are classified as expendable assets. You have permission to kill anyone in your way."
A low, guttural chuckle came from a massive figure whose body was a patchwork of thickened hide and exposed, pulsating muscle fibers. 'Brute' Korgath cracked his knuckles, the sound like rocks grinding together. "Expendable assets. I like that. The little ones… the broken one… they will be… fun."
"Do not underestimate them, Korgath," chided a tall, androgynous figure whose skin had the iridescent sheen of insect chitin. 'Shifter' Nyx's voice was a melodic, unsettling hum. "The data-streams indicate significant combat evolution in the subjects designated Leo and Jordan. Their templates have been refined under pressure."
"Refined?" scoffed another, a man whose form was wreathed in a faint, electrostatic haze. 'Surge' Jax crackled with contained energy. "My lightning will fry their refined circuits and boil their meat. The Prime and the Anomaly are the only true threats."
A seventh figure, who had been silently interfacing with the data-streams, spoke without looking up. 'Lens' Oracle's eyes were replaced by spinning, crystalline lenses that refracted the light into a thousand tiny points of information. "Probability of success fluctuates between 74.3% and 81.9%, contingent on the Anomaly's unquantified upper limits. The presence of Subject Maya-07 introduces a high-level chaotic variable. Her entropic state is… unstable."
The eighth and final member of the team, a woman who seemed to be composed of living shadow, detached herself from the darkness of the chamber. 'Umbra' Nisha's voice was the soft sigh of a grave opening. "Chaos can be managed. Shadows can smother even the most erratic flame. The Prime's constancy will be her downfall. She cannot adapt to what she cannot predict."
General Kael let the assessments hang in the air. This was his unit, a perfect blend of destruction and precision.
"Our strategy is threefold," Kael laid out, the holographic schematic zooming into the bunker's entrance. "Umbra Nisha and Silas 'Stitch' Mordain will make the initial entry. Nisha will disable their senses; Mordain will compromise their structural integrity and any internal defenses. You create the chaos."
The shadows around Nisha deepened in acknowledgment. Stitch gave a thin, cruel smile.
"Phase two: 'Brute' Korgath and 'Surge' Jax will be the spearhead. You will engage and eliminate the ancillary targets—Leo, Jordan, Derek. Cause maximum carnage. Draw out the Primary and Secondary targets."
Korgath let out another pleased rumble. Jax's electrostatic field flared.
"'Shifter' Nyx," Kael continued, "you will infiltrate their ranks during the confusion. Assume the form of one of the wounded. Get close to the Prime. Your sole objective is to deliver a killing blow when her guard is down."
Nyx gave a graceful, predatory bow.
"'Lens' Oracle," Kael's gaze fell on the data-savant. "You will remain at the perimeter. Monitor everything. Feed us real-time tactical updates and predict the Anomaly's movements. Find his pattern."
Oracle's lenses spun faster, absorbing the data. "Acknowledged."
"And I," General Kael said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm, "will handle Wolfen Welfric personally. I will break the Anomaly on the anvil of my will."
He looked at each of his seven killers, his chosen instruments of death.
"The Architects have given us a sacred duty. To prune the garden of imperfection. Eva-01 and Wolfen Welfric are not just targets. They are heresies against the ordained future. They are a disease, and we are the cure."
He raised a hand, and the hologram of the bunker vanished, replaced by the stark, glowing runes of their launch sequence.
"Strike Team Epsilon, you are weapons. Nothing more, nothing less. You have your targets. You have your permission. Go forth and cull."