Chapter 224 – Unaware
"Pong!"
The impact and shattering noise from downstairs reached Unit Ten on the second floor. He gripped his dual axes tightly and shouted into the squad channel:
"Unit Three, what happened?! Report!"
But only silence answered him.
Taken out already?
That fast?!
Barely two seconds had passed since the sound!
"I'm heading down now, Ten."
Unit Four's voice came in from the third floor, calm and emotionless.
"I'll expose myself directly. The rest is up to you."
"You're seriously using yourself as bait?!"
"He's a threat. A strong one. Sacrifice is necessary to defeat such strength."
Unit Four held his Militech Saratoga SMG and crouched beside the staircase leading to the second floor. His exosuit was carefully concealed behind the wall. Once the target stepped onto the stairs, he would open fire to draw attention, masking the moment Unit Ten would unleash an EMP blast from his axe to disable the target's cyberware, followed by a clean kill in close combat.
The target likely had a Sandevistan. Since the engagement began, Unit Four had observed at least six activations. Even for a top-tier merc in Night City, that kind of use should be nearing the system's limit. The opportunity to force him into using it so much while protecting his so-called superior was more than expected. Now, it was time for the final clash.
Militech. Our so-called superior. Bullshit.
As memories of his fallen teammates flashed by—those who had uncovered the truth and died trying to reach Night City—rage swelled in his chest.
They used us. Treated us like trash. Like test data. They underestimated us.
They were the elite—chosen from over a million candidates. Ten of them. Razor-sharp weapons, destined to stand above the rest.
Reduced to pawns. Tools. Test subjects. They'll regret it.
Only he and Unit Ten remained. If he died as bait, so be it. As long as Ten escaped with the internal data—information that would interest Arasaka, Kang Tao, and every weapons manufacturer out there—they'd still have a shot. If Ten could infiltrate one of those corps, Militech would pay.
The revenge of the elite… would be catastrophic.
Despite the storm raging inside, Unit Four's grip on his SMG was steady.
No emotions in combat. Stay cold. Stay sharp.
Even the best of them—Unit One, who'd already fallen—hadn't mastered this discipline as he had.
But time… time made even steel bend.
Ten seconds had passed since Unit Three's signal dropped. Long enough for any Night City citizen to leisurely climb a floor. Yet there wasn't a single footstep.
No scuffle. No cries. No gunfire.
Only silence.
Too quiet.
Even his own breathing began to sound heavy.
Inside his exosuit helmet, filtered air hissed softly.
"Huff... huff..."
"…Huff."
That last breath—it didn't come from him.
It came from right beside him.
His skin crawled. But before he could react, two steel-like arms wrapped around his neck in a rear naked choke.
His exosuit had protective plating at the neck—but it shattered instantly under the force. No resistance.
Air—cut off.
Fragments of broken exosuit dug into his throat. He tried to breathe, but could only produce faint hissing sounds. Blood foamed in his mouth.
His vision dimmed.
Yet even as consciousness faded, one question burned in his mind:
How did he get behind me?!
His cyber-eye caught something.
The open balcony on the third floor—the very sniping position he had used earlier.
He killed Unit Three… then climbed the wall back up? With just his arms?
A feat even a low-tier cyborg could pull off. And he hadn't even thought of it.
Final moments always brought clarity.
With the last flicker of thought, Unit Four sent a warning to Ten:
"Run... get out..."
"Crack."
The sound of his neck and suit breaking.
Unit Four—dead.
Down on the second floor, Unit Ten heard the final message.
But before he could make sense of it, he heard footsteps.
Not the heavy stomp of an exosuit.
But light steps—from above.
"...Heh..."
His chest tightened. He could barely breathe. Panic crept in.
Unit Four's signal was gone.
He was alone now.
From ten chosen elites, forged from over a million, they had been his comrades—rivals maybe, but family still. The only connection he had left.
Gone. All of them.
For the first time, true loneliness wrapped around him like a shroud.
No one left.
"Damn it! Come on then!"
Unit Ten clenched his axes and charged toward the stairs.
"You think someone like you can scare an elite?! We're not afraid of you!"
Was it fear?
Desperation?
Madness?
Karl didn't care.
Standing silently on the third floor, he watched as the axe-wielding man stormed up, thumb reaching for the EMP trigger.
Karl simply raised Midnight and pulled the trigger.
The bullet tore through Ten's skull.
No exosuit protected his head. Against Midnight… there was no survival.
Amid the red and white explosion, a chip flickered in the air—ripped free from his brain.
Karl's eyes narrowed as he lowered his gun.
"Another one... completely unaware they'd been implanted with a control chip."
.
.
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