Thick clouds parted before the Valkyrie's bulk like flesh before a blade.
The assault carrier carved through the night sky, leaving a wound-like contrail in its wake. Inside the troop compartment, everything vibrated with the steady thrum of the engines.
Nolan worked methodically, securing the Solar Auxilia Void Armor piece by piece. The plates locked into place with satisfying clicks, each seal tested and confirmed.
He studied the weapons laid out before him. An embarrassment of riches, really. Too much to carry efficiently.
The chainsword and bolter went onto his back. Both reliable, both proven. The weight was familiar, comfortable.
He hesitated over the remaining arsenal. Then grabbed the plasma pistol and Refractor Field Generator, tucking them into secure pouches on his armor. Better to have options.
Once fully equipped, he raised one armored finger and tapped his helmet.
"Test, test. Communication check. David, are you receiving?"
"Signal is clear, my lord. All systems nominal." David's synthetic voice came through perfectly, no static or distortion.
Nolan rolled his neck, working out the stiffness. The armor's servo-motors hummed softly, adjusting to his movements. He settled onto one of the bench seats, armored hands resting flat on his knees, spine straight.
Now he waited for their approach to the target zone.
Kansas
The town was small, rural, unremarkable. Most residents were farmers or worked in the few local businesses. With the town's remote location and the steady exodus of young people seeking opportunities elsewhere, nightlife was virtually nonexistent.
Especially on a night like this, with storm clouds gathering and thunder rumbling in the distance.
The town's single bar had closed early. Most residents were already home, preparing for the incoming weather.
A few kilometers outside town, in a copse of trees that bordered farmland, the Valkyrie descended.
Its engines roared, thrusters vectoring to slow the craft. It hovered three meters above the ground, ramp already lowering.
Nolan jumped.
His armored bulk hit the earth with tremendous force. Both feet sank deep into soft soil, mud squelching around his boots.
He raised one thumb toward the cockpit in acknowledgment.
The Valkyrie immediately ascended, David piloting with smooth precision. The craft climbed to altitude and began a wide patrol circuit outside the town's perimeter. Close enough to respond quickly, far enough to avoid detection.
"Action commencing," Nolan muttered.
He activated his helmet's night vision, the world shifting to shades of green and grey. A quick orientation check using the HUD's compass, then he moved.
He ran toward a cornfield, the tall stalks providing concealment as he approached the town.
According to David's research, Red River Institute sat on the town's eastern edge. A small river curved around the property, isolating it from the rest of the town.
For the children inside, the orphanage might as well be an island. Cut off. Contained.
Nolan found a shallow section of river and waded across, water flowing around his armored legs. On the far side, he crouched among thin corn plants and studied his target.
The orphanage was a four-story structure, old architecture that had probably stood for decades. In the darkness, it looked like a sleeping beast. Almost every window was dark, interior lights extinguished for the night. Only a few exterior lamps provided illumination.
"David, disable the orphanage's surveillance systems and block all external communication."
"Already completed, my lord. Five minutes ago."
Good. Nolan drew a slow breath and moved.
He sprinted across open ground and vaulted a low wall in one smooth motion. The landing wasn't quiet—over a hundred kilos of man and armor hitting earth never was—but the sound was muffled, acceptable.
He paused, scanning for reactions. Nothing. No lights coming on, no shouting, no alarms.
Moving like a stalking predator, Nolan crossed the orphanage grounds and pressed himself against the building's wall.
Thunder rumbled overhead. The storm finally broke.
Rain began falling, light at first, then quickly intensifying into a downpour. Water hammered against Nolan's armor, running off the plates in streams.
He ignored the weather and peered through the nearest window.
A classroom or activity room. Tables and chairs arranged in neat rows. Boxes of toys stacked in one corner. Empty. Dark.
Nolan tested the window. Unlocked.
He pushed it open and climbed inside, mud from his boots leaving tracks on the clean floor. Rain dripped from his armor, forming small puddles.
He closed the window behind him and crossed to the door. Pressed his helmet against it, listening.
Silence.
He opened the door slowly, carefully, ready to slam it shut at the first sign of trouble.
A small figure stood in the corridor.
Nolan's hand shot to his plasma pistol, fingers closing around the grip.
Then he registered what he was actually seeing.
A child. A little boy in green pajamas, no older than seven or eight. Bare feet. Eyes closed.
Sleepwalking.
Nolan relaxed his grip on the weapon and carefully stepped aside, giving the boy room to pass.
The child shuffled into the room without waking, moving with the strange purpose of someone locked in dreams. He walked directly to the toy box in the corner and sat down beside it, still fast asleep.
Nolan watched him for a moment, then slipped into the corridor.
He began a systematic search of the building. Room by room, floor by floor. Methodical. Thorough.
Children sleeping in dormitories. Adults—teachers and caretakers—in private rooms. A kitchen. A dining hall. Storage closets. All exactly what you'd expect in an orphanage.
Nothing suspicious. Nothing wrong.
Twenty minutes later, Nolan stood on the first floor again, frustration building.
"David," he said quietly. "I've searched the entire facility. Just children and staff, all asleep. Are you certain we have the right location?"
"One moment, my lord." A pause. Data processing. "Please proceed to the first-floor bathroom. I'm detecting electromagnetic signals originating from that area. Unusual frequency patterns."
Nolan's eyes narrowed behind his helmet. He moved quickly to the bathroom.
Outside, the storm had intensified. Rain hammered the building like artillery, thunder booming close enough to rattle windows. The weather was good cover for any noise his armor made.
The bathroom appeared normal at first. Sinks. Stalls. Tile floor. Standard institutional fixtures.
Nolan examined everything again, more carefully this time.
There. Under one of the sinks.
He crouched down and found a small device recessed into the wall. A keyhole mechanism, antiquated but functional. Two old light bulbs mounted beside it, one red and one green. Both were illuminated.
"Analyzing... accessing... complete."
At David's words, the entire sink assembly began to move. The fixture and the wall section behind it swung outward on hidden hinges, revealing a passage beyond.
The opening was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. Stairs led down into darkness.
Nolan stared at the secret entrance for a moment.
"Open sesame," he muttered.
Then he ducked his head and descended into the depths beneath Red River Institute.