"Play the sequence again," Kasper said, his voice low and tight.
Silver tracery pulsed beneath his skin, catching the harsh blue glow of the holographic display. The light transformed everyone around the table—turning Torres's weathered face into a grim mask, deepening the shadows under Vega's eyes, highlighting the tension in Diaz's jaw as she leaned forward.
Diaz's fingers trembled slightly as she manipulated the controls. The bandage on her arm was fresh, the injury from their last mission still raw, but she'd insisted on handling the intelligence analysis herself. The blue enhancement ports at her temples cycled rapidly, their usual smooth rhythm now jerky with what Kasper recognized as suppressed rage.
"First segment," she announced, swallowing hard. "Recorded at Reyes's command center three days ago."
Torres shifted his weight, the chair creaking beneath him. "And we trust the source?" His neural targeting systems cycled cautiously, veteran instincts always alert for deception.
"Lieutenant Jimenez," Diaz answered. "Communications officer who defected after witnessing..." She paused, steadying herself. "After witnessing the execution of Colonel Vargas's family."
"I knew Jimenez," Vega rumbled, surprising everyone. The big man rarely offered personal connections. "Solid officer. Not prone to exaggeration."
The footage materialized in the air above them—enhanced-resolution surveillance capturing General Reyes as he paced before a line of kneeling ATA officers. Copper enhancement ports gleamed at his temples, spreading unnatural patterns beneath his skin that reminded Kasper of the Director's more advanced integration.
The acrid smell of recycled air in their underground bunker seemed to intensify as they watched. The soft hum of enhancement-integrated equipment provided an unsettling soundtrack to the horror unfolding before them.
"Loyalty cannot be presumed," Reyes addressed the assembled officers, his voice carrying the metallic edge of military-grade vocal enhancements. "It must be demonstrated. Proven beyond question."
He gestured toward the chamber's far side where civilians huddled together—ordinary citizens of Costa del Sol, faces etched with terror. Children clung to parents. An elderly woman wept silently.
"These people aided the resistance. Distributed water filtration systems to counter our neural primer deployment. Their crime is clear."
Kasper's silver tracery mapped the copper enhancement signatures on display, identifying configurations and calculating combat parameters. His human consciousness recoiled even as the enhancement technology coldly archived every detail.
Reyes approached the first officer in line, extending a standard-issue sidearm. "Prove your loyalty, Major Cruz."
The officer's enhancement ports cycled rapid distress patterns—amber lights pulsing erratically beneath his skin. "Sir, these are civilians. The military code of conduct—"
The sidearm discharged with a crack that made Diaz flinch. Major Cruz collapsed, copper enhancement ports flaring once before going dark. Screams erupted from the civilians, muted by the surveillance system's audio filters but still hauntingly audible.
"The code of conduct is what I say it is," Reyes stated, moving to the next officer. "Captain Ortiz. Your demonstration."
This time, there was no hesitation. The captain took the weapon, approached the civilians, and executed the first one—a middle-aged man who had stepped forward as if to protect the others. Captain Ortiz's copper ports cycled satisfaction patterns as he returned to his position, standing straighter.
"Very good," Reyes approved.
Torres jabbed at the control panel, freezing the image on Ortiz's face. "I trained with him at the academy," he said, voice hard. "Always followed orders to the letter. No imagination, but I never pegged him for..." He gestured at the frozen image, words failing him.
"The neural primer changes people," Kasper said. "Even before full integration."
Diaz nodded grimly. "The copper configurations I'm seeing are... wrong. Modified beyond standard military specs."
Torres tapped the display again, resuming playback. "Show me who refuses. Those are the ones we need to remember."
The process continued. Three more officers refused and were immediately executed. Five others complied, their enhancement ports cycling various patterns of stress, resignation, and in two cases, what appeared to be genuine enthusiasm.
"Enough," Kasper said as the first segment concluded. "We've seen what we need."
Vega shook his head, amber ports pulsing darkly. "We need to see it all. Know exactly what we're fighting." His massive hands gripped the edge of the table. "Evil thrives when good people look away."
Diaz glanced at Kasper, awaiting direction. When he nodded, she pulled up the next file.
"Northern military hospital," she said, voice stronger now, channeling horror into determination. "Two days ago."
The footage shifted to what had once been a medical facility. Enhancement integration chambers lined the walls, each containing a struggling subject. Neural primer flowed through transparent tubing—the copper-toned fluid pumping into unwilling bodies.
"Skip to the key findings," Kasper instructed, sensing the team's rising tension. They needed information, not prolonged exposure to atrocities they couldn't immediately prevent.
Diaz nodded, manipulating the controls with practiced efficiency. The footage accelerated, stopping at key moments—Reyes inspecting the chambers, consulting with the medical officer, reviewing data on forced integration.
"Twenty-three percent rejection rate," she summarized, highlighting the relevant exchange. "Higher in civilians, lower in military personnel with prior enhancement exposure."
"'Acceptable losses,'" Torres quoted bitterly as Reyes spoke the words on screen. "Two hundred enhanced soldiers by week's end."
"Puppet army," Vega growled. The amber enhancement ports at his neck pulsed with fury. "Fighting their own people against their will."
"If they survive integration," Diaz added. "The rest die in agony."
Torres leaned forward, eyes narrowed at the display. "What's the Director's role in this? These configurations match what we saw at the research facility."
"That's what we need to find out," Kasper said. "But first, we need to stop Reyes."
"Final segment," Diaz said, her voice faltering slightly. "Colonel Vargas's residence. Four days ago."
Kasper nodded once, knowing what was coming but needing to see it. "Show us."
The scene shifted to a residential setting—a family gathered for an evening meal. Colonel Vargas sat at the head of the table, his wife beside him, two teenage children across from each other. Steam rose from home-cooked food. A bottle of wine sat half-empty.
"I served under Vargas for three years," Torres said softly. "Good man. Fair commander."
"He sponsored my enhancement application," Diaz added, blue ports dimming with the memory. "Said I had potential others couldn't see."
The door burst open, and Reyes stepped through, flanked by his personal protection detail.
What followed was methodical horror, but Diaz mercifully accelerated through the worst moments while preserving the crucial information. Reyes's accusations. Vargas's defense of ethical principles. The executions. Vargas being dragged away for "processing" at the next day's loyalty demonstration.
When it ended, the harsh blue light of the holographic display continued to bathe them, but now it felt like it was illuminating something inside them—something raw and exposed.
The silence stretched, broken only by the soft hum of equipment and Diaz's shaky exhale.
"There's more," she said finally, fingers moving across the terminal with unusual precision. "Lieutenant Jimenez provided testimony along with the footage."
A new recording began to play—audio only, the lieutenant's voice tight with controlled fear.
"He made us hunt our own people," Jimenez explained, words tumbling out. "Anyone suspected of resistance activity. Citizens who questioned the water supply modifications. Military personnel who objected to civilian casualties. He called it 'cleansing the ranks.' Said only the completely loyal deserved enhancement. The rest were test subjects or targets."
The silver tracery mapped cold fury as Kasper processed the testimony, adaptive structures extending through neural pathways in response to emotional stimulus. Not tactical assessment or combat readiness, but something fundamentally human despite the enhancement technology flowing through him. Righteous anger. Moral certainty.
He slammed his fist down on the table, the impact reverberating through the room. The other three jumped, unused to such displays from their usually controlled leader.
"This ends now," he said, voice deadly calm. "Tomorrow."
Torres exchanged a glance with Vega, neural targeting systems cycling rapidly. "This isn't our mission parameters," he said carefully. "We were sent to gather intelligence, not launch an assault."
"Parameters change when circumstances demand it," Kasper replied, silver tracery pulsing beneath his skin.
"We don't have backup," Torres countered. "No extraction plan. No—"
"What we don't have," Diaz interrupted, surprising everyone, "is a choice." Her blue enhancement ports pulsed with unusual intensity. "Colonel Vargas is scheduled for execution at 0600 tomorrow. If we wait for official channels, he dies. And Reyes gets two hundred enhanced soldiers."
Vega nodded slowly, his massive frame casting long shadows. "The girl is right," he rumbled. "Optimal time to strike would be during the demonstration. Maximum impact on ATA command structure."
Torres ran a hand over his weathered face. "Suicide mission," he muttered, but Kasper could see his neural targeting systems already mapping approach vectors. The veteran in him couldn't resist a tactical problem.
"Not if we plan it right," Kasper said.
Diaz attacked her terminal with renewed focus, the blue enhancement ports at her temples steadying as she channeled emotion into action.
"Security profiles indicate automated defense grid with standard enhancement-integrated protocols," she said, fingers dancing across the terminal. "Vulnerable to targeted electromagnetic disruption." She looked up, a hint of her usual confidence returning. "I can create a bypass sequence based on the intelligence we extracted from the supply node."
"You sure about that?" Torres asked, skepticism evident in his tone. "Last time you tried something similar—"
"That was different," she snapped, blue ports flaring. "I didn't have the access codes then. I do now."
"And I trust her skills," Kasper said, ending the debate. The silver tracery accelerated as he processed tactical options. "Torres, what about Reyes's personal security detail?"
The veteran frowned, neural targeting systems cycling through threat assessments. "Advanced copper integration, but nothing we haven't handled before. The real problem will be numbers and positioning. They'll have the high ground, defensive positions..."
"And we'll have surprise," Vega countered. "Plus whatever tricks the girl can play with their systems."
Diaz didn't even glance up from her terminal, but her enhancement ports cycled satisfaction patterns. "I can blind them for ninety seconds. Maybe two minutes if I overload the primary node."
Torres whistled. "That changes things."
Without the exoskeleton, Kasper's physical capabilities had changed—some limitations more pronounced, other movements more fluid now that mechanical constraints had been removed. The silver adaptive structures continued to evolve, creating new possibilities.
Torres cleared his throat, glancing at Kasper's unarmored form. "Without the exoskeleton, your combat capabilities—"
"Have changed," Kasper cut him off, feeling silver tracery pulse with new confidence beneath his skin. "Not diminished. The silver adapts."
The phrase carried weight beyond the simple words, echoing his father's observation.
Torres's weathered face softened slightly, something approaching respect flickering in his eyes. "Modified approach then," he conceded. "Surgical strike rather than sustained engagement."
"Exactly," Kasper confirmed, moving to the holographic display. The silver tracery glowed against his skin as he manipulated the schematics with enhanced precision. "We're not fighting a battle. We're removing a cancer. Cut out Reyes and his inner circle, extract Colonel Vargas, deliver evidence of atrocities to Rivera's command center."
He traced a path through the three-dimensional representation of Reyes's headquarters. "Primary infiltration route through the maintenance access. Secondary contingency through the northern supply entrance. Extraction via medical transport staging area on the eastern perimeter."
The team gathered around him, enhancement ports synchronizing as they processed the tactical plan.
"Three-person extraction team seems light," Torres observed, calculating angles of approach. "Especially if Vargas is injured."
"Four," Diaz corrected, not looking up from her terminal. "I'm going in too."
"Not happening," Torres said flatly. "You're still recovering from—"
"I don't need to run or fight," she countered, blue ports pulsing stubbornly. "I need to access their systems directly. Can't do that remotely."
Vega's amber ports cycled thoughtfully. "The girl has a point."
"The girl has a name," Diaz muttered, but Kasper caught the slight smile she tried to hide.
"Four-person team then," Kasper decided. "Torres and Vega approach from the north, creating primary diversion at the perimeter defenses. Diaz disrupts the automated grid from optimal distance, then moves in with me through the maintenance access."
"And if Vargas isn't... functional?" Torres asked, the unspoken question hanging in the air.
Kasper met his gaze. "Then we still complete the mission. Reyes doesn't leave that building."
Torres nodded once, the decision made.
"The mission parameters have evolved," Kasper said, looking each team member in the eye. "This isn't just about supply routes or intelligence gathering anymore. This is about protecting Costa del Sol from monsters wearing military uniforms. About stopping atrocities before more innocent people die."
He turned back to the display, studying the frozen image of Reyes—the copper enhancement ports cycling satisfaction patterns as he executed the colonel's family.
Not a soldier following orders. Not a zealot pursuing misguided ideals. Something that had moved beyond humanity, corrupted by enhancement technology and the Director's vision of evolution through integration.
"We move in four hours," Kasper decided, the silver tracery beneath his skin pulsing with the conviction of his words. "Prepare your equipment, review your infiltration routes, synchronize enhancement protocols."
As the team dispersed to make final preparations, Kasper remained at the display. The footage of Reyes's atrocities played in constant loop through his enhanced memory—not for tactical assessment, but for motivation. A reminder of what awaited Costa del Sol if they failed.
The silver tracery pulsed once beneath his collar—not with combat readiness or tactical calculation, but with something the Director perhaps had not designed into his prototype. Something that remained stubbornly human despite silver adaptation and enhancement integration.
Empathy. Moral certainty. The absolute conviction that some lines should never be crossed, regardless of evolutionary pressure or technological necessity.
Reyes had crossed those lines. And whatever the Director had designed Kasper to become, whatever evolution had been planned for the silver tracery, one thing remained clear with cold, implacable certainty:
The void remembers.