The armory door began to buckle under the relentless assault from the puppets. The metal groaned and warped as they tried to force their way through. With a final violent push, they managed to tear a jagged hole through the reinforced steel, creating an opening just large enough for them to crawl through.

  “They’re climbing through!” Titus shouted. “Open fire!”

  The sharp cracks of rifles and shotguns echoed violently off the concrete walls, filling the air with smoke and the smell of burning powder. Each impact knocked the puppets backward, but more continued to force their way through the breach, bending the torn metal outward and widening the gap.

  Bodies began piling outside the armory as the puppets maintained their assault.

  “Reloading!” Emmett called out, as his ears were ringing from the gunfire.

  He quickly fed shells into his shotgun while the others kept firing. Unlike the others, who were emptying their magazines in bursts of panic, Emmett kept his breathing steady, remembering his training. He fired slowly with each breath, one shot at a time, conserving what little ammunition had remained.

  “I’m out!” Dr. Vulcan shouted.

  “Last mag!” one of the armorers yelled, tossing him a fresh magazine.

  For several minutes, the battle had raged on. These puppets kept climbing over the pile of bodies at the doorway, like a hungry pack of rats.

  Then finally, the last one appeared. It struggled to climb over the mound of twisted bodies blocking the entrance. Emmett raised his shotgun, putting a single shot which echoed through the armory. The puppet collapsed inside, with silence that followed.

  For a moment everyone remained still. The ringing in their ears was apparent, but it slowly faded as the smoke drifted through the room.The strange metallic substance that coated the puppets during their assault, had withdrawed into the bullet wounds that penetrated them. What remained were shredded clothing, broken bones, and blood-soaked corpses.

  Emmett remained alert, scanning the bodies carefully.

  “What now?” he asked.

  “Well,” Dr. Vulcan replied, catching his breath, “now we need to reach the hundredth floor and access the main security terminal.”

  Titus shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  He pointed toward one of the many security monitors mounted on the wall.

  “There is still a live camera feed from that floor.”

  Everyone turned to look.

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  “All I see are bodies.” As he began rewinding the footage.

  “Let’s see what happened.”

  The rewinding video showed several armed guards desperately firing their weapons at the puppets who were forcing their way through a mangled security door, just like they had attempted here. Everyone in the armory watched in silence as the scene unfolded.

  The guards fought bravely, but it didn’t matter. One by one they were overwhelmed. Many even attempted to fight hand-to-hand, but each punch resulted in the metallic substance taking hold and spreading across their arms like liquid metal. Within seconds it consumed them completely.

  “That has to be Zavon technology,” one of the armorers said quietly.

  “Whatever it is,” Titus replied, “it’s not ours.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Vulcan added. “The Zavons had never used technology like this before, or at least not during the initial attack. Either it’s something new… or something entirely different.”

  Titus then fast-forwarded the footage.The puppets had systematically destroyed every monitor and computer terminal in the room before leaving the area behind as a smoldering wreck.

  Suddenly a thunderous explosion shook the building. Everyone instinctively looked up and around.

  “What was that?” someone asked.

  Emmett turned toward Titus.

  “Do we have any cameras outside? I was wondering if—”

  Another deafening explosion interrupted him as the entire armory rattled violently. It sounded as if a massive object had just slammed into the building right outside the armory wall.

  As the noise faded, the red-haired woman cautiously approached one of the holes blasted through the wall and peered outside. As she investigated, she vonfirmed that something had struck the building. The pile of puppet bodies near the door absorbed some of the impact, stopping the object from crashing deeper inside.

  “What in the goddess’s name is that?” she whispered. “It looks like an angry beetle with a turtle shell on its back, nothing like I've seen during the attack.”

  “That might be the craft that was flying around outside,” Vulcan said. “The Air Force must’ve finally shot it down.”

  “Well great,” Titus muttered. “Now it’s blocking our only exit.”

  “Why do you call it a turtle shell?” Emmett asked.

  “Because it looks like one,” the armory supervisor replied. “That nickname stuck after the invasion.”

  He stared at the wreck.

  “I never thought I’d see another one. I thought most were shot down and or destroyed.”

  The craft began to glow. Red and blue lights pulsed across its curved surface as the entire structure began to vibrate. After a few seconds it shifted slightly, turning toward the armory.

  Focusing on the red-haired woman.

  A beam of red energy fired from the craft. She vanished instantly, reduced to a cloud of fine dust. Panic exploded inside the room.The turtle shell began firing rapidly as green beams had blasted through the armory walls, with each impact sending violent flashes of light and explosions across the room. Smoke and burning metal filled the air, making it hard to breathe.

  Emmett felt his heart pounding violently in his chest as another explosion ripped through the back wall of the armory, blasting open a jagged hole into the room beyond.

  “Move!” Emmett shouted, noticing the opening.

  Without thinking, he sprinted toward the new exit and dove through it. The others followed close behind. The armory supervisor was the last to jump, but agreen beam struck him square in the back. He vanished instantly in a cloud of greenish dust.

  The survivors barely had time to react before more explosions followed them into the new room. Small spheres of glowing energy slammed into the walls and ceiling above them.

  Emmett dove behind a large conference table for cover. The others scrambled around it as well.

  “Where does this exit lead?” Emmett shouted.

  “A hallway corridor,” Titus replied. “Go left. There should be a stairwell at the end on the right.”

  The table began splintering as blasts struck it repeatedly. Seeing a brief lull in the explosions, Emmett crawled out from beneath it. He pushed himself to his feet, sprinted to the door, and threw it open.