Pling.


    The elevator doors slid open, revealing a vast underground expanse where rows upon rows of towering server stacks stretched into the distance, their blinking indicator lights flickering in rhythmic pulses like artificial constellations. The air was cold and sterile, carrying the faint metallic tang of ionized dust.


    Unlike most of the facility, this floor was kept on its entirely own closed electrical system, using a small tokamak reactor powering everything from the binary servers to the quantum storage unit, air conditioning and cooling.


    Overhead, thick bundles of insulated wiring ran in perfect alignment along the ceiling, branching out like the veins of an enormous digital organism. The sleek conduits glowed faintly at their junctions, forming a vast, circuit-board-like network that disappeared into the depths of the facility. Occasionally, a soft electronic hum rippled through the air, the very walls seeming to vibrate in response, as if the system itself was breathing.


    The five men stepped into a small glass-enclosed antechamber, a buffer zone between the elevator and the gargantuan databanks beyond. A decontamination sluice hummed quietly beside them, its vented nozzles ready to mist intruders with sterilizing agents. The thick, glass-like wall separating them from the servers was reinforced with a faintly blue shimmer, likely some kind of electromagnetic shielding to prevent interference.


    They were dressed in tightly fitted suits, at first glance resembling high-end wetsuits, though a closer look revealed a subtle texture of woven insulation and reactive fabric, designed for temperature regulation rather than moisture resistance. The fabric clung to their bodies, limiting loose folds that could generate static, an ever-present danger in a facility like this.


    A monotone female voice echoed across the chamber, calm, sterile, and devoid of humanity.


    Welcome to the EduNet Core – The central intelligence hub for Edu-4.


    Please be advised that it is prohibited to bring any magnetic material into the server room. Furthermore, all personnel and guests must carry their ID tags visible at all times. Failure to do so may lead to severe bodily harm. The quantum area in the facility is restricted to all personnel without formal written authorization. Keep clear of all..."


    "Shut up, you automated piece of shit,"


    Lorien muttered, raising a compact 3D-printed device with an iron sight, aimed at the hidden ceiling speaker. A dull pop sounded as half a dozen aluminum pellets embedded themselves into the mesh grille.


    The voice stuttered for a moment before resuming, its pitch slightly distorted:


    Also, be advised that you must stay within the yellow lines at all..


    "Arrh, for fuck''s sake."


    Lorien sighed, grabbing two plastic chairs from under a nearby terminal, with his muscular arms he dragged one beneath the speaker. With a huff of frustration, he climbed up and began continuously stabbing with the second chair overhead, slamming its leg directly into the ceiling speaker.


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    A burst of static and shredded audio crackled through the chamber.


    Scrrzt—the thssc quantum storage is maintainssc at an optimal temperatu—scchhh—of minus scchwohundred-zzzevencchythree degrees Celsiusszz. Proper sscrr protective equipmzzzz is mandacchory—ssccchhh—to avoid potential frzzozzctbite. zzzhailure to comply may resssulcchz in lossz of—sssccchhk—limb zzunction and deacchz.


    Lorien went rampant, smashing the speaker with ferocious strength, each impact send out small sparks of electricity, punctuated by an audible grunt of annoyance.


    "Mother—" smack


    "Fucking—" smack


    "Piece—" smack


    "Of—" smack


    “Ro—” smack


    “botic—” smack


    "Shit—" smack


    "Shut—" smack


    "The—" smack


    "Fuck—" smack


    "Up"—“ smack


    "Bitch”! CRACK!


    Each hit sent splinters of plastic flying, tiny shards of composite raining down, catching the glow of the server lights as they fell. The distorted voice warbled and stuttered, trying to complete its safety warnings, but finally—after thirty seconds of relentless destruction—the voice cut out entirely.


    The only sound left was the faint ambient hum of the servers beyond and the heavy breathing of the muscular man standing on a transparent plastic chair.


    Lorien exhaled, rubbing his forehead, small beads of sweat visible on his brow.


    "Much better."


    With a sigh, he lazily tossed the broken chair to the floor, climbed down, and collapsed into the other chair, panting, his head between his legs.


    His companions couldn’t hold back their laughter, and for once, Lorien let his guard down, realizing just how stupid he must’ve looked, standing on a blue plastic chair, screaming and beating a speaker to death like some crazed technology hating caveman.


    All five of them laughed briefly, a fleeting release of tension, before snapping back into focus as if nothing had happened.


    "Let’s go, brothers!" Lorien declared, his booming voice cutting through the cold air.


    In unison, they pulled on their frost resistant combat helmets, securing the hoses to the oxygen canisters strapped to their backs, the setup making them look less like intruders and more like a group of divers preparing for descent.


    Bee had already begun hacking the Quantum Resonance scanner, to a point where the system would always return a positive check. He knew exactly how they worked, as he had been on the team that developed the software. Bee quickly got access and uploaded the new software, deleting the old. The whole ordeal taking no more than five minutes.


    A tall, slim man stepped forward, approaching the decontamination sluice. Beside it, a type of scanner stood idle, its matte black screen waiting for input. He slung his duffel bag onto the conveyor belt before stepping inside the spherical chamber.


    The transparent, half-spheroid door spun shut behind him, sealing with a soft mechanical hiss. A set of LED''s flickered red, followed by the sharp hiss of sterilizing gas flooding the small chamber. The sound echoed unnervingly in the enclosed space, a high-pitched whine that seemed to pierce through the walls.


    Meanwhile the bags were being scanned for anything


    A moment later, the lights flicked green.


    "Decontamination process complete."


    Another detached, synthetic voice announced from a speaker above. The sluice door unlocked with a low click, granting access to the vast underground expanse beyond.


    One by one, they passed through the sluice and scanner, until they stood on the other side of the perimeter, deep within EduNet Core.


    Lorien glanced up at a digital clock mounted above one of the seemingly infinite pathways, its red numbers glowing against the sterile white light of the facility.


    No need to rush, he thought, then motioned for the others to follow.


    They moved in combat intervals, rifles low but ready, eyes scanning the empty corridors. There was no reason to expect resistance here—this level was restricted to only a handful of engineers and scientists, the select few who kept the plant running.


    But with the hub on high alert, it never hurt to be prepared.