TriPlex: Hello World!

Chapter 0: Captain

position yet, sir?"

"Yes, about two hostiles inside, nothing special. They all seem to be badly armed with only pistols and electric batons, not exactly as tight as the security outside. Neutralizing both in a firefight won't be a hard task, but causing too much noise won't exactly do us any good.

How's the situation outside? Confirm any changes in patrol patterns."

It's been almost half an hour since I've had them in my sights. No changes in patrol patterns whatsoever- I will notify you right away if anything comes up."

"Alright, I too will call you back; I'll have to get a move on."

-CALL END-

In a dimly lit storage space filled with old crates, two guards in light armor held electric batons and pistols. They chatted casually, trying to pass the time until their shifts ended. The air smelled of metal, and shadows concealed someone watching them from afar. Unaware of the danger lurking nearby, the guards continued their mundane conversation, oblivious to the impending threat.

"Man, I got this vintage grill from F-bay yesterday, and boy, did it really cost me a buck...

But hey, sometimes you just want to make tomahawks sizzle old school."

The first guard shared, seemingly trying to grab the attention of the other.

The other guard, hearing him, redirects his face towards his colleague.

"You know, a good modern industrial grill cooks that stuff five times faster, right? Honestly, I don't get the point of all this collection s**t. Vintage or not, they're there to do the same thing; hell, that vintage crap of yours probably grills slower than a toaster."

He replies, looking to spark a debate.

"Listen man! It's not always about what it does; it's about what it 'was' back then. Sometimes it really just feels good thinking that people used to do those things outdoors, y'know? Barbeque parties and stuff. Plus, this one's named after a famous fighter from way back then. I don't hear much about the sport nowadays, but the seller told me that this, Big George Foreman dude was a heck-of-a name back then."

He explains, hoping that the other person gets his side of things.

Pff, you probably got scammed with that famous fighter bogus by the vendo-."

Clink

A small metal object bounced on the floor as he spoke, abruptly causing him to cut his response short. It bounced two times, the second one causing it to land on a certain spot inches away from the two.

"Hey, what's that?"

The other guard curiously asked

Meanwhile, the other, having sharper reflexes, quickly pulls his comrade away from the object, causing them both to fall on their backs in a quick effort to create distance between them and the unknown object.

THUD

as both of them lay on the ground.

The guard reacted quickly, speedily moving his forearm towards the visor of his colleague while using the palm of his other hand to cover his own.

"IT'S A STUN GRENADE, STAND DOWN!"

The guard yelled.

1

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2

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3

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"..."

Nothing happened.

"W-what the hell, this grenade's takin' it's time"

One of the guards, commented.

The expected explosion never came. A decoy? Well, it doesn't matter now, because before an ounce of realization could even come to any of them, a figure suddenly emerged from behind one of the metal crates. It was a strange man wearing an old brown trench coat. His right hand was holding a pistol with a suppressor.

The weapon was already aimed at one of the guards.

In an attempt to save themselves, both guards try to pull out a weapon of their own but fail miserably, as before they could even reach their gun holsters, a pair of bullets would have already flown towards one of them, landing two fatal shots on an unarmored part of the target's neck. Blood gushed from his wounds, painting the wall with a crimson streak.

The wounded guard thrashes around in response, rolling like a rabid animal before eventually taking his last breath a few seconds later. The other guard beside him could only watch in horror as his comrade suffered. Such an event was too sudden, even for a trained guard like him. His body couldn't move a muscle; he could only witness the gruesome sight before him.

He braced himself for the inevitable, watching as the man took aim. Memories of his life flickered before his eyes, each moment stretching into an eternity as he awaited his fate.

But then, an unexpectef thing happened. The man with the pistol hesitated, his resolve faltering. For a short moment, their eyes met with a silent exchange

With a subtle movement, the man lowered his weapon, his gesture signaling him to stay down.

"You know what I'm capable of, so let's cut to the chase. I'll give you a chance if you tell me where they took all of those crates."

He offered, standing near the still-warm corpse just lying down beside the guard.

The guard, still feeling anxious about what happened earlier, attempts to quickly pull out his pistol from its holster. Unaware that his body hasn't recovered yet from shock, he loses the ability to grip it properly. He claws at a part of the grip, causing it to slide down and fall on the floor. The man, seeing his attempt to retaliate, quickly responds by kicking the pistol away, which causes it to slide further away from the guard's reach.

"Now, now, I'm trying to work with you here. Just tell me where they're hiding the materials they've shipped here, and I'll guarantee that you will walk away safely, and to add some to top that off, you won't be given a sentence."

The man replies once again, now aiming the gun between his eyes, implying that he is more serious this time around.

The man could only stare at him in terror, his throat dry as he swallowed hard, his fists clenched tightly as he watched the gun's barrel inch closer and closer to his face.

"Okay! Just get that thing away from me! I'll tell you everything! "

He replies, his voice shaking in fear.

"Now, isn't that a little bit better?

Alright then, I'm listening; tell me everything you know.

I'll have my little friend here confirm if you're lying or not. If you are, then i will carry out necessary procedures to ensure your silence"

The man responded.

He then releases a small, disk-shaped piece of metal onto the floor, not much larger than a coin. Upon impact, it springs to life, unfurling tiny spider-like appendages from its base. Crafted for stealth, it could effortlessly glides under doors or slips into wall crevices. Topped with a microcamera, its minuscule size rendered it nearly invisible to the naked eye unless observed closely.

The guard watched in horror as the drone activated. The man's menacing threats prompted him to lean back slightly in terror, his lips trembling behind his helmet as he cautiously formulated his next response.

"It's on the underground floor! The only way to access the entrance is through the stairwell located near the secondary gateway. That's the only place I saw them carry the containers, I promise! "

He explains.

Fear had already conquered the guard's emotions, voice, and actions. It was evident; once more, fear had expelled the truth from his heart. Yet, despite this, the man remained skeptical of his claims, understanding that assumptions wouldn't suffice as reliable information, at least not for him. A faint click emanated from his headpiece, echoed by an even fainter one from the ant drone he had deployed earlier.

Green text abruptly illuminates his screen, accompanied by the dulcet tones of his virtual assistant's feminine voice.

"Device Synchronized"

The device notified

After loading for a bit, the headpiece's point of view would switch to that of the tiny ant drone's. The ant drone, which had very limited parts due to its size, had a fairly weak camera, so instead of displaying high-definition footage, it had a low-quality black-and-white video display. Nothing fancy, but sufficient enough to show the man what was going on within a certain proximity. The ant drone then started to move, having eight limbs attributed largely to its movement speed, casually cruising through small gaps and holes throughout the facility, exploring the halls like a bug in the wall. Meanwhile, the guard, who was once at the mercy of the stranger's firearm, was now given a chance to either flee or attack the preoccupied stranger. His arms slowly extended towards the ground, crawling away from the man one palm at a time, hoping to avoid the man's attention. Eventually, he was able to reach one of the crates, using it as a support to assist him in standing up due to his legs still dysfunctioning from the events that had occurred earlier. Afterwards, he slowly limped away, creating more distance between him and the man, going farther and farther, nearing the emergency exit in the room, but for a brief moment, a sudden thought struck him. The guard's head slowly turns around, seeing both his friend's bloody corpse, the man busy as he was operating the ant drone, and his loaded pistol not far from where he currently stood.

"He's right there, waiting for me to blast his head out."

He thinks to himself.

The glint of the gun just lying down on the floor caught his attention. It was just sitting there, waiting for him to pick it up. Slowly and silently, his feet glide across the floor, approaching the firearm one small step at a time.

"Oi!"

The man yelled.

The guard, startled by the sudden noise from the man, drops to the floor as he curls up like a ball.

"Damn it! Cobwebs are all over the place. You know, for some underground organization that somehow managed to smuggle expensive genetic material, you really need to give your cleaners a raise. Jeez."

He monologues.

Luckily for the guard, however, the noise was nothing but a false alarm. Not wanting to waste any more time, the guard quickly went back up, scurrying back towards the weapon. It wouldn't take long before he had finally managed to make his way towards his weapon.

"This is it..."

He thought to himself, using both hands to get a hold of the pistol.

Just as he held both his hands upwards, he swiftly turned his body towards the direction where the man was last seen operating the drone, pulling the trigger repeatedly before his mind could even process the scene. The sound of one, two, no, eight shots reverberated throughout the room, covering what was in front of him with the smoke coming from the gun's muzzle.

"How'd you like that?"

He taunted.

No response ever came; silence filled the room as the guard sat back, letting out a sigh after sorting out the situation. Everything was covered by a veil of gray smoke; eventually it would also reach the small light hanging down from the ceiling, causing the room's atmosphere to slightly darken to a point where he could barely see anything beyond two feet of his own position.

Wanting to inform the higher-ups of the scene, the guard quickly holds his shoulder radio, which gives out a click sound followed by some slight static as the radio signal connects to the intercom located within the facility's security room.

"Admin, this is Fred from unit three. Some bogey broke in the storage room just now. I took care of it, but bogey took out Coralles before I could respond. He's dead; nothing we can do about it now. He was alone, but he may have some buddies with him. Make sure to alert the rest of us."

He explains.

He stood there and waited for the administrator's response, but nothing came, and the only thing that greeted him was the radio's incomprehensible static.

"Admin! For Pete's sake, I am not screwing around here! Someone... I do not know who the hell-...somehow got in the storage room and was tryna find the lab. If you think I'm playin' around, then i have Coralles' Corpse just lyin' over here!."

He yelled furiously, incredibly frustrated by the administrator's silence despite the situation.

Just a few moments later, a voice from the other end of the intercom would respond to Fred's prompts.

"Fred, please confirm your statement. Are you implying that someone went through our security undetected? Furthermore, have you confirmed the neutrilization of the infiltrator? If so, please do try to search the body for any sort of additional information. Also, one last thing, please hold your position. I will notify the rest of the personnel and send reinforcements towards your location. In the meantime, you can do the first task I've assigned to you."

The voice answers, instantly severing the radio connection between the two, right after his last statement.

"Admin wait!...Admin!-Bastard hung up on me. Damn it."

The guard muttered, seemingly agitated.

Now having no other choice but to complete the recent orders given to him. He tries to clear the smoke by wildly waving both arms in the air. The smoke disperses, giving him a clearer look at the area where he fired shots at the stranger.

"..."

Little drops of sweat began to roll down his face; his body anxiously shakes; the beating of his heart thumps faster as the clock ticks; and his eyes could do nothing but widen at the scene that stood before him.

There was nothing.

Not a body in sight, nothing. only eight bullet holes on one of the crates, exactly the amount of which he fired.

It wouldn't take long for him to realize that he was on the shorter end of the stick. He was completely baffled by the situation. Out of fear, he would swiftly raise his firearm. Unsure of the stranger's whereabouts, he would quickly turn in different directions as he aimed, hoping in his mind that he would be able to somehow catch the stranger in his sights just before he got caught in his.

"H-how the fu-"

"I gave you a chance, didn't I?"

Said a voice from the distance.

Fred, not even a second after hearing it, would swiftly redirect his aim in the voice's direction.

"You bastard-!"

He yelled as he closed his eyes while pulling the trigger.

Click

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"What the hell?"

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Click

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The gun was already out of ammo, and before Fred could even realize this, a speeding projectile came from the direction in which he tried to shoot. It pierced through both his hands, causing him to instantly drop the gun on the floor.

SHIIII-GAAAHHHH, CRAP IT HURTS! "

He shouts.

He falls down on his back, rolling his body back and forth as the pain from his hands surges throughout his entire body.

"I deeply apologize for all the inconvenience caused. Let me assist you one last time."

The man responds in a strangely calm manner.

Once again, he aims his pistol towards Fred's head, giving him one last serious look in the eye before he finishes the job.

"Arrghhhh-! Wait N-n-o! W-wait-! I can still-"

POP

It was already too late. The bullet easily pierced through Fred's visor, and soon his agonizing cries were no more.

Having no more time to waste. The man swiftly holstered his pistol back, slowly walking away from the picture where two bodies lie.