Chigozie

  I raised my head at the sound of Mr. Adeyemi’s voice, dragging my attention away from the floating screen in front of me and forcing the swarm of questions in my mind to retreat to the background.

  There would be time to analyze ter.

  For now, I needed to listen.

  “Now where was I again?” Mr. Adeyemi asked aloud in his usual carefree and charismatic tone, carrying an aura about him that seemed to ease us despite the fact that we were being sent on what could very well be considered a suicide mission.

  “You were expining the swarm, sir,” his assistant, Ms. Destiny, replied curtly, stepping in with practiced efficiency.

  “Ah yes, the swarm.” He csped his hands together lightly. “… as you’ll all come to discover soon, the trait that makes these creatures particurly special and dangerous is their ungodly regeneration and their ability to adapt to any given situation as quickly as possible in order to better combat their enemies, making them extremely hard to kill…” He paused, letting the weight of that statement settle over us. “But not impossible.”

  His eyes swept across our group, sharp despite his rexed posture, measuring everyone in the room and making sure we understood exactly what we were walking into.

  “Worry not,” he continued smoothly, “as we have weapons designed through the combined effort of our head geneticist and our engineers.”

  At that, he began walking, and we followed instinctively, drawn toward the rows of weapon racks I had been trying not to stare at since the lights came on.

  “You all will be outfitted with weapons that have been tried, tested, and had their effectiveness confirmed. Now, all these might seem a bit new, but they are not that different from what you are accustomed to from your training.”

  I nodded unconsciously.

  Even without the simution training, I was already familiar with firearms from my time serving.

  He stopped in front of the racks and turned his back to them. With a small gesture of his hand, several holograms materialized in the air before us.

  One image rotated slowly — a shotgun that looked like a futuristic reinterpretation of a Beretta A300 Ultima Patrol. Its body was sleek, reinforced with composite pting. The finish was patterned in a dark Realtree Trace Blue camo, yered with subtle glowing circuitry lines that pulsed faintly beneath the surface.

  “Before you is the Maestro B13.”

  The hologram zoomed in, dispying internal schematics.

  “Fitted with ammunition that, once embedded in your target, releases a compound that causes an internal bioelectrical misfire. It effectively overloads neural transmission pathways, frying the victim’s nervous system and causing instant motor control loss. It incapacitates any swarm host shot, deying their return to action by a long shot.”

  A visual dispy appeared next to the schematics, giving us a demonstration.

  A host rushed forward, fungal growth stretching across torn skin, muscles bulging unnaturally — then a shot. The round buried itself beneath the surface. A fraction of a second ter, the compound detonated through their nervous system. Its muscles convulsed violently. Limbs snapped backward at impossible angles. The jaw locked so hard its teeth shattered. Veins stood out like cables as the body spasmed uncontrolbly, small trails of smoke emanating from the now-deceased body as nerve tissue burned from within.

  Once the feed ended, we all turned our faces to Mr. Adeyemi, everyone carrying expressions that showed how impressed they were despite the gory and violent dispy.

  “They are good for controlling the flow of enemies coming at you — hence the name Maestro.” He smirked. “Why the B13? Even I don’t know.”

  A few mild chuckles were all that answered his attempt at a joke.

  “Alright. Next.”

  Another hologram came forward.

  This one dispyed a rifle — heavy, angur, and intimidating. The barrel was elongated in a rectangur shape, the body reinforced with yered composite pting. Blue energy veins ran along its frame, converging near the magazine well.

  “This is the T17,” Mr. Adeyemi expined. “Each round, upon impact, injects a rapid-expansion catalytic agent that interacts violently with organic tissue.”

  The hologram dispyed another simuted impact.

  A projectile pierced a host’s abdomen.

  For half a second, nothing.

  Then the flesh began to swell grotesquely.

  Cells over-absorbed fluid at a catastrophic rate. Muscle fibers ballooned, stretching skin to its limit. Veins darkened as pressure built beneath the surface.

  Then rupture.

  The torso burst outward in a wet explosion of meat and fungal mass. Shredded muscle spped against nearby surfaces. Bone fragments spun away like shrapnel. The fungal growth embedded within the host tore open, its regenerative ttice violently disrupted.

  “Not as effective as the Maestro for direct incapacitation,” he continued calmly, “but it will definitely help in deying enemy regeneration as much as possible.”

  Deying. That was the keyword after listening to him.

  “Next, we have the Z30.”

  A handgun rotated into view.

  It had a distinctive “H” frame structure, dark silver with blue light channels glowing along its sides. Its design was impractical by conventional standards; it was the most sci-fi-looking of the group, and its core chamber pulsed faintly, indicating it contained some form of energy.

  “This right here is your best chance against the swarm, as I’m sure you’ve discovered. The swarm finds it incredibly hard to regenerate from severe burns — or outright cannot when their entire mass is destroyed.”

  When he said that, he looked directly at Kamcy.

  All heads turned.

  Kamcy simply stared ahead, expression unreadable.

  “Well, what do they do?” Orezi asked.

  I gnced at him, surprised.

  The split lip he had suffered earlier had nearly healed. The swelling had gone down. Only a faint pink line remained where skin had torn open.

  He showed no sign of embarrassment from the earlier event.

  He either had remarkable composure, or he was good at burying grievances.

  “Well, to answer your question, Mr. Orezi, these are fitted with high-level containment chambers that fire compacted psma bsts.”

  The hologram shifted to show internal structure.

  “The psma is generated through controlled ionization of superheated gas confined within a magnetic field. Upon discharge, it exits as a concentrated bolt of high-temperature ionized matter. When it strikes organic material, it transfers thermal energy instantly, causing fsh carbonization. In simpler terms, it sears tissue so rapidly that the cellur matrix is destroyed before regenerative processes can initiate.”

  The simution dispyed a host being struck.

  The psma bolt impacted center mass.

  For an instant, the target glowed white.

  Then the flesh charred bck. Skin cracked like burnt paper. Fungal growth shriveled, colpsing inward as moisture evaporated explosively. Internal organs liquefied under extreme heat. The smell of vaporized blood and cooked tissue would have been overwhelming if it weren’t just a projection.

  If the entire mass was consumed, then there would be nothing left to regenerate.

  That was reassuring.

  “Now for your combat wear.”

  A new hologram formed — a full-body suit, with boots and gloves dispyed on a digital model wearing it.

  “Fitted with nanofibers that offer resistance to ssh and impact damage. The suit distributes kinetic force across its surface, reducing blunt trauma. It grants the wearer a measurable boost in physical output and, most importantly, enhances sensory feedback to keep you in tune with your àse control.”

  My eyes flicked instinctively to the àse status on my HUD.

  Inert.

  And then my mind fshed back to Kamcy earlier — that pressure, that fear that had crept into my bones.

  “And as a fun tidbit,” Mr. Adeyemi continued, “your boots are fitted with repulsion technology that allows you to glide a few inches above the ground in all directions, enabling quick terrain transitions, with the added function of being fully responsive to your thoughts.”

  That earned genuine smiles. I couldn’t lie — it sounded cool, and most importantly, hover mobility changed everything in combat.

  Less friction. Faster directional shifts. Better evasion.

  “Now you will be given the chance to select from our stock of ‘àse tools’ that match with you. Their information will be dispyed once you grab them, so don’t worry about expnations. As I had said earlier, much of the expnation you need will be delivered by your group handlers.”

  That eased tension.

  With structured support and clear communication, this felt like a proper operation.

  “Now meet our elite squad members who will be paired with your team on this mission.”

  He gestured behind us.

  Four figures approached.

  They wore suits simir to ours. Like the bck-uniformed soldiers earlier, they wore breathing masks. However, these masks were fully transparent and appeared seamlessly fused to their suits, with no visible straps or holsters. The design resembled advanced tactical respirators — a clear reinforced face shield molded perfectly to the contours of their faces, with slim filtration units integrated along the jawline and subtle rebreather modules built into the colr area, allowing them to operate in hostile environments without obstructing vision or communication.

  Looking at their faces, they were calm, measured, and prepared.

  They formed up in front of us, stepped forward in unison, saluted Mr. Adeyemi, and turned to face us.

  “Everyone, meet our elite squad — Ms. 1, Mr. 2, Mr. 3, and Ms. 4.”

  I found it strange that they bore numbers instead of names, but their bearing told me enough.

  These were not trainees.

  These were veterans.

  They had served.

  And that was all I needed to know.

  This was what I had signed up for.

  The chance to fight alongside those dedicated to ending this war.

  To put an end to the suffering it had caused.

  To make sure no one else had to watch someone they loved torn apart and hollowed out by something that wore their face but no longer contained their soul.

  I closed my eyes briefly.

  ‘Rhoda… watch over me. I’ll make sure to avenge you and end all this suffering, once and for all.’