Chapter 80- Retreat

The battlefield was still, save for the quiet crackling of flames in the wreckage. Rion leaned back against the overturned truck, watching the Sentinel Mark-1's optical sensors blink slowly before shutting down with a faint hiss. The battle bot had performed perfectly, and the panic on the faces of Kyle and his men had been worth every second of programming.

He sighed, a small smirk on his face, admiring the machine's handiwork. It was a rare sight for things to go this smoothly. Though his body still tingled with the after-effects of [Overclock Mode], he was in control now, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline begin to fade.

From behind the wreckage, footsteps crunched over the gravel as the rest of his team approached. Kellen, their no-nonsense leader, was the first to appear, flanked by Reynard, Stone, and Vance. They all looked worse for wear—Reynard's sleeve was singed, and Stone had a fresh gash on his arm—but they were alive.

Kellen stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms. She looked down at the smoking battlefield, then back up at the towering robot.

"Forger," she started, her voice laced with something akin to admiration, "I don't suppose you're going to explain where the hell that thing came from?"

Rion grinned, pushing himself off the truck and dusting off his pants. "Oh, this?" he gestured to the robot as if it were an old friend. "Just a little side project. You know, for situations like this."

One of the mercenaries whistled low, his rifle still in hand but lowered. "Side project? You built that thing?"

Vance, who usually had a quip or two ready, was for once speechless. He walked up to the bot, examining its massive frame, and then looked back at Rion with raised eyebrows.

"How long have you been hiding this, man?" Reynard asked, tilting his head. "Because I could've used a little warning before this monster tore through our enemies like tissue paper."

Rion shrugged, not quite hiding the pride in his eyes. "Surprises are part of the fun. And besides, I didn't know we'd need it until...well, they crashed our trucks."

"Fun?" Stone's deep voice rumbled as he came up behind Kellen, a slight frown creasing his normally impassive face. "You call that fun?"

Rion winked at him. "I call it efficiency."

Kellen sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Efficient or not, you saved our asses. I'll give you that much." Her eyes lingered on the bot, clearly impressed but too stubborn to show more than a grudging acknowledgment. "But that thing...we could've used a heads-up."

"Where's the excitement in that?" Rion replied with a widening smirk. "Besides, you all handled yourselves pretty well before the big guy showed up. Stone over there looked like he was having the time of his life smashing people around."

Stone, still holding the pieces of the massive truck door he'd used as a makeshift shield, shot him a dark look but remained silent, his gaze locked on the Sentinel Mark-1.

Vance chuckled, giving the bot a pat on its armored leg. "Yeah, until you brought out that walking death machine and stole the spotlight. I swear, that thing took out half of them in seconds."

Kellen's eyes narrowed. She took a few steps back, casting one last look at the bot before her expression turned more serious. "As much as I appreciate this...backup, we've got bigger issues right now."

She turned, motioning for Stone to follow her. "I need to make contact with base. Stay put."

Rion watched her go, Stone trailing close behind her. The two of them moved off through the mist, heading to a quiet spot a bit further from the wreckage. Kellen's silhouette was barely visible through the fog as she pulled out her communicator and began talking in low, quick tones, Stone keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings.

Harker, now fully invested in the robot, walked around its bulky frame, inspecting its twin gun mounts. "I still can't believe you didn't tell us about this sooner, Forger."

Rion grinned, arms crossed. "What can I say? I like making an entrance."

Vance, who was rummaging through a pack for a clean cloth to wipe his rifle, nodded. "Well, you sure made one today. I'm sure those poor bastards will be having nightmares for days to come."

The conversation died down, leaving only the distant murmur of Kellen's voice. Rion took a moment to assess the situation. The battlefield was littered with bodies, most of them from Kyle's ambush team. Their jeeps were still parked a safe distance away, and though Rion's team had survived, they were bruised and battered. He knew what Kellen's call would mean.

A few minutes later, Kellen returned, her expression grim. Stone trailed behind her like a shadow, his posture as rigid as ever. She approached the group, hands on her hips, and sighed deeply.

"We're not continuing the mission," she stated flatly.

Rion raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Kellen crossed her arms. "Base says we're in no condition to press forward. We've got injured, and we're out of vehicles. We'll rendezvous with reinforcements halfway back to Coca Town. They'll cover us in case of another ambush."

The eyes of one of the remaining retainers lit up in happiness. "We're retreating?"

"It's not a retreat, it's a regroup," Kellen corrected sharply. "We need to re-assess and get our people to safety first. That's an order."

Rion glanced around at his team. Stone looked indifferent as usual, Vance seemed more focused on wiping down his rifle, and the other members looked like they'd found their savior. Most of them were thrilled about the decision, and no one argued. Kellen's judgment was sound, and there wasn't much point in risking another engagement with their injured teammates.

"Alright, fine," Rion said, finally breaking the silence. "So what's the plan?"

Kellen pointed toward the jeeps that Kyle's team had abandoned. "We'll take those vehicles. See what supplies we can scavenge, load the injured into them, and head back. Simple."

Rion nodded. "I'll get the bot out of the way."

As Kellen organized the group to check the jeeps, Rion walked back to the Sentinel Mark-1. With a few quick taps on his remote, the bot powered down completely, folding its guns back into place. The red glow from its eyes faded as it deactivated, becoming little more than a large, lifeless hulk of metal.

* * *

The team spent the next half-hour scavenging supplies from the jeeps. Kyle's squad had left behind a surprising amount of gear—first aid kits, rations, even some extra ammo that Vance quickly pocketed with a nod of approval. The injured members of their team, including a few non-combatants who had barely survived the crash, were carefully loaded into the jeeps. Stone, ever the muscle of the group, handled most of the heavy lifting with ease.

Rion watched all of this unfold from a distance, his mind already running through the logistics of the retreat. It was a tactical retreat, sure, but it still stung a little. The excursion to Sector Delta-24 had ended shortly after it began, and now they were heading back to Coca Town, licking their wounds.

He rubbed his face again, feeling the small tears in his face mask from the ambush, the fabric stretched too thin to hide the damage. Ever since the attack, he'd kept his hands near his face, hoping no one would notice the cracks. The urgency of the situation had helped him slip under the radar, but Rion knew it was only a matter of time before someone caught on.

Fortunately, while scavenging the remnants of Kyle's gear, he found something useful—a full-face mask. He grabbed it without hesitation, quickly pulling it on over his head. It fit snugly, the smooth material cool against his skin. He felt a wave of relief, knowing that at least for now, his appearance was no longer a concern.

I hope we don't run into the murder chickens on the way back.... I've had more than enough excitement for one day.

Once everything was packed and the team was ready, Kellen took the lead, signaling for them to move out. Rion hopped into one of the jeeps, taking the driver's seat. As the convoy began to rumble forward, he glanced in the rearview mirror at the smoking battlefield behind them. He couldn't shake the feeling that something bigger was on the horizon.

* * *

A day earlier, elsewhere in Tempest Grove.

Far deeper within the twisted expanse of the anomalous region, an eerie silence hung over a small clearing, broken only by the occasional whirr of scanners. A team of archaeologists stood huddled together, their tools clutched in tense hands as they combed the ground for any signs of what they had been searching for.

Dr. Lucas Monroe, the team leader, wiped the sweat from his brow and adjusted his wide-brimmed hat. He leaned over one of the scanners, watching as the readings on the screen flickered erratically.

"This can't be right," Monroe muttered, frowning as the scanner's output went haywire, the signals jumping off the charts. "It's like the ground itself is...unstable."

The other members of his team were equally confused, murmuring amongst themselves as their equipment struggled to make sense of the data. Whatever lay beneath the surface of this part of the grove was clearly unprecedented.

One of the younger archaeologists, Sarah, walked over, her expression anxious. "Dr. Monroe, I think we've found something."

Monroe straightened up, his heart skipping a beat. He motioned for the rest of the team to follow Sarah as she led them toward a particular patch of earth. It looked like any other part of the grove, but the scanner in her hand was going wild.

"What is it?" Monroe asked, his voice hushed.

"I'm not sure," Sarah admitted, glancing nervously at the readings. "But whatever it is, it's massive."

Before Monroe could respond, the ground beneath them trembled, a low rumble echoing through the clearing. The team froze, eyes wide, as the earth beneath their feet began to shift.

"Earthquake?" one of the archaeologists asked, voice shaking.

Monroe's eyes narrowed. "No... It's something else."

The rumbling grew louder, and then, to the team's horror, the ground split open. The earth cracked apart with a deafening roar, forming a gaping hole in the middle of the clearing. Dirt and debris tumbled into the expanding abyss, and the archaeologists scrambled to step back, their hearts racing as they watched the ground give way to a seemingly bottomless pit.

The hole continued to grow, the edges crumbling as more and more of the earth disappeared into the dark void. It stretched wider and wider until it was nearly the size of a small building. The team stood at the edge, staring down into the blackness, their scanners going haywire with readings they couldn't comprehend.

Monroe's breath caught in his throat. His hands trembled as he removed his hat, wiping his brow again. His voice was barely above a whisper.

"Area 69…" he muttered, his eyes wide with awe and fear. "We've found it."

The rest of the team exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what they had just witnessed. The ground was no longer shaking, but the massive hole in front of them seemed almost alive, like it was breathing in the energy around it. The air felt heavier, charged with a strange electricity that prickled their skin.

Sarah, standing beside Monroe, took a hesitant step forward. "What...what do we do now?"

Monroe didn't respond right away. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the discovery. They had been searching for Area 69—the mythical underground city rumored to hold powerful secrets of a nation forgotten to time. But none of them had expected this. None of them had been prepared for the ground to literally swallow itself.

"We proceed with caution," Monroe finally said, his voice tight. "We document everything. Carefully. This is the find of the decade. No—this is something much bigger."

He turned to the team, a mix of excitement and fear in his eyes. "We need to notify headquarters immediately. But no one—and I mean no one—gets too close to that pit until we understand what we're dealing with."

The team nodded, though their faces betrayed their unease. Monroe gave a final glance at the massive hole, his pulse quickening.

Things were about to get a whole lot more complicated.