The soldier's thoughts shifted.
A young man of unknown background.
Strong.
Completely unshaken by danger.
And guarded by a Rank 3 who behaved like a personal protector.
The conclusion ford instantly in his mind.
He is from a high family... an important one.
After all, only noble or elite families assigned personal guardians to their heirs.
Of course, he had no idea Spartan was undead.
He could not have known imdiately. It would take a good amount of observation.
Rank 3 advancent changed undead physiology drastically. Their aura beca closer to undead races like vampires.
The man could sense Spartan was powerful and had a strange aura, but not an inhuman one.
Michael did not let the silence drag.
"If they did not co through the Federation gates," he said at once, "then it can only an one thing."
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "What?"
"They have their own gates," Michael replied quietly. "The demonic supernaturals opened their own way into Hell."
For a heartbeat, nothing moved.
Then the soldier's face twisted with hate.
His fist slamd into the ground again.
Boom.
The strike was harsher than before. The red sand blasted outward in a ring. Cracks tore across the hardened earth, racing in all directions.
The Starborn jerked back on instinct, armor tightening around their body. The faint light along their plating brightened as defensive patterns ford.
They kept their distance now.
Very firmly.
Yet at the sa ti, a strange relief flickered in their molten silver eyes.
So the first floor is chaos now...
Good thing I did not go down there...
Michael watched the spreading cracks under his boots and did not
move.
His expression remained calm, but his thoughts were not.
If demonic supernaturals had their own gates into Hell, this was no longer only Aurora's problem.
It affected every race that used these floors to train.
He exhaled slowly.
Why the first floor, though?
If they only wanted destruction, there were simpler paths.
So why start from there?
The sa thought ford in another mind at the sa ti.
Michael and the soldier turned to each other together.
They spoke almost in unison.
"The demonic supernaturals only have a gate to the first floor," Michael said.
"If they had gates to the other floors or to Aurora itself," the soldier added, "they would have already unleashed demons directly on our realm."
Michael finished the line of thought calmly.
"They would not need to stage a large scale attack on the first floor and declare war on the Federation as a whole."
The soldier's jaw tensed, but his eyes grew clearer.
"So this is both their limit," he said slowly, "and their opening move."
Michael's gaze drifted toward the distant horizon of red sand and crimson sky.
He did not speak at first.
The soldier pushed himself to his feet, dust sliding off his scorched
armor as he steadied his breathing.
"Then what we need to do right now," he said firmly, "is stop the demonic supernaturals from holding the Federation gates."
He clenched his fists, ready to move.
Michael raised a hand.
"That is not the only thing you need to worry about."
The soldier froze mid-step.
"What?" he asked, confused.
This ti, Michael did not answer.
He turned slightly and nodded at the Starborn.
"You explain."
The Starborn hesitated for a mont, then stepped forward. Their armor folded into a more flexible form, light pulsing weakly beneath
the tal plates.
They pointed upward.
"The twentieth floor."
The soldier blinked. "What about it?"
The Starborn shook their head slowly.
"No demon from above should have been able to descend without
being stopped. On the floors above twenty, there are guardians. Many
races place overseers there."
The soldier's expression began to shift.
The Starborn continued.
"And yet... a demon half a step into Rank 4 went past all of them
without being stopped."
The soldier took two sharp steps back.
"That should be impossible," he whispered. "The floors above are
fortified. The guardians there..."
He stopped.
His voice dried up.
The three of them looked at each other at the sa ti.
A cold realization crept into the air.
Michael voiced it quietly.
"Sothing happened to them."
The soldier's face paled as the truth settled.
"The guardians... the higher-ranked protectors... all of them..."
Spartan adjusted his glasses.
"Probably dead," he said calmly. "Or worse."
The Starborn's shoulders trembled as he started to think clearly now
that there was no imdiate danger.
The soldier paced once in disbelief, boots crushing the red sand
beneath him.
"No... no, does that an..."
Michael simply nodded.
"Everything was planned?"
The soldier stopped pacing. The Starborn whispered.
"And that ans the attack on the first floor is not the main event."
Michael looked at the sky.
"It is just the beginning." Spartan fixed his glasses again.
"Master," he said smoothly, "it seems Hell has beco far more
interesting."
Michael exhaled slowly.
"Interesting is one word for it."
His gaze fell on the two n, one soldier of Aurora and one Starborn
survivor.
The Starborn swallowed once, then asked the only question that
mattered now.
"What do we do?"
Going up was entering chaos.
Going down ant facing whatever had erased the guardians of the higher floors.
Both paths were danger.
The soldier crossed his arms, pacing in a tight circle as sand shifted
under his boots.
"If we go up," he muttered, "we might be able to reclaim the Federation gates. But if sothing killed the overseers above floor
twenty, then heading up is suicide."
Silence fell again.
This ti, Michael broke it.
"We go up first."
Both heads snapped toward him at once.
The soldier frowned.
"If the demon on the lower floors is not handled, then even if we
retake the gates above, Hell will empty itself downward eventually." The wind blew a thin line of red dust across Michael's boots.
"If the chaos above can be resolved, we can contact the other races
stationed there." Michael's eyes narrowed slightly.
"And once they know the demon's location, soone strong enough
will co to kill it."
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