Will leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the edge of the console as he stared at the monitors. Something about this whole thing wasn't sitting right. The railgun had been a dead giveaway. You didn't lug around that kind of firepower unless you planned to use it, and yet, here they were—hours in—and the blast doors guarding this room hadn't so much as budged. They could've melted through them by now, drilled a hole clean through like opening a can of soup. So why hadn't they?
He frowned and pulled up one of the feeds showing the assault team, tracking their progress through the facility. They weren't rushing. No movement or firefights to suggest desperation. No real urgency at all. They were moving like they had all the time in the world, sweeping sections but making no serious effort to breach this room.
It was… off.