Heya, all! Sorry to keep you guys waiting for the new chapter. My life's been very hectic since last chapter, between school, trying to get a job and other regular takeaways on my schedule, not to mention writer's block and trying to work on two other fanfics; 'Let Loose the Dogs of War', my Archie Sonic fanfiction, and an upcoming Future Card Buddyfight fanfic 'Stand Proud' (which will have elements of Jojo's Bizarre Adventure in the mix).

Thankfully, I was finally able to get this chapter to where I wanted it to be before finals started, and those would drain the hell out of me.

Anywho, enjoy!

Chapter 12: DEEP IN SLEEP

Hunter Base – 5th Floor Hallway, 2:05 PM

Will jogged frantically down the hallway he was in, eyes darting left and right for signs of an elevator, or at the very least, signs leading to one. In the brightly lit chrome-colored halls that all seemed to look the same, the open-shirted brunette with the giant black sword on his back began to curse his luck.

He had been running for almost three minutes in this labyrinthine fortress called Hunter Base and could not find any inkling of an elevator, or even stairs. His visible yellow eye shuddered in frustration and Will clicked his tongue.

"How is it that there are no directory signs on this floor?" Will began to grumble as he turned a corner. He realized this turn was a dead end and turn around, cursing under is breath. "Seriously, I feel like a lab rat in a maze, for God's sake…"

Will remembered that in recent months more humans began to work here, and humans – unlike Reploids – didn't have internal computer systems like a map. So how did they get around? It was possible they had some kind of personal terminal on them to be their guide.

'Makes sense. When Mavericks were still big, the possibility of Mavericks being able to navigate in this place would've been really bad. I guess the Hunters didn't want them infesting their home so easily. Doesn't help me, though.'

Will cursed again as he ran passed a hallway in a three-way intersection, before halting and backtracking a few steps. His face lit up as he saw what appeared to be an elevator down the hall on the left-hand side.

Wasting no time he bolted down and slid to a stop before the steel door and pressed the down button next to it. His vision glazed upward to the screen above the elevator doors displaying what floor the lift was on – it was dark, the screen black.

Cocking a brow, Will pressed again. No response; the button wasn't even lighting up. He irritably pressed a couple of times before throwing his arms to his sides.

"Are you kidding me?!" Will seethed in a low shout. He twisted his head to the side and growled. "Damn you Lucciano. When you knocked out the base you knocked out the elevators too!"

He really wished he could use his Persona's sensory abilities right now, but even broken, the cuffs on his wrists seemed to be blocking it. On top of that, his powers were only useful in finding sources of sentient life like humans or Reploids – it didn't come with anything like echolocation or anything that would help map out where he was.

He began running back to the main hallway and proceeded down the direction he was originally going. "I gotta find those damn stairs…"

At that time, two floors down…

Blizzard Wolfang proceeded to exit the laboratory wing on the 3rd floor after unsuccessfully trying to awake Gate. He began running down the hallway, careful not to trip over anyone 'out to lunch' on the floor. His initial instinct was to run on all fours, but after a few seconds to started to send waves of discomfort through his hybrid-like body. He was normally used to running quadruped, but now it seemed to feel awkward now.

Putting this discovery to the side for now, he set his priority to finding someone - anyone – still conscious – and set up a plan. It was clear the base was attacked. But so far he had not run into any enemies. 'What in the world could have caused this?'

His ruby eyes looked in awe as he passed down the hallway, seeing human and Reploid alike either slumped on a wall or sprawled on the floor, anything on their person or were carried lying strewn by them.

One middle-aged man with messy gray hair and thick glasses laid unconscious at an intersection to Wolfang's right, the left arm of his lab coat soaking in the spilt contents of a shattered white coffee mug.

A humanoid Reploid with skin-tight orange armoring and green pads rested in an awkward position on his back, a clipboard of papers beside him, the papers upside down and curling.

"This is awful…" Wolfang breathed in silent horror, his wild icy blue hair billowing with each step. As he continued his trek, his ears – the purple wolf-like ears popping out of his messy head of hair – began to twitch as a sudden, sharp pitter-patter began to ring in them. He looked to his right and the noise seemed to get louder.

'Someone's coming...!' Wolfang realized as his first action was to hide along the hallway, back to the wall and peering around the corner.

'So who's gonna show up; friend or foe?' Wolfang thought to himself as he bared his fangs. He may not be able to use some of his usual techniques right now – Gate had originally said it not be a good idea at the time given his predicament – but he wasn't exactly powerless. If it came down to it, he could always tackle them.

Or use his claws. But he hoped it didn't have to come to that.

As a figure began to turn the corner, Wolfang instinctively proceeded to jump on them, knocking the figure down and pinning them before realizing just who he pinned.

With a head of chin-length forest green hair with a serrated line of lighter green locks slicking back the center of his head like a sawmill blade and peach skin, was who appeared to be a certain member of the 6th Naval Unit, who was hissing after hitting his head on the metal flooring.

"Dammit, that hurt! What was that fo-" Wheel Gator shouted as his neck craned to face Wolfang, his candy red eyes meeting the Investigator's. Gator relaxed a bit before wincing after seeing that he ran into an ally and not an enemy.

"Wheel Gator? It got you too? " Wolfang asked aloud. As the transmuted lupine Reploid got off of the reptilian-esque hunter and helped him up, Wolfang couldn't help but observe the green hybrid.

Wheel's current form probably clocked him a little over six feet tall standing upright, and his armor's dimensions were a somewhat more compacted, making him roughly the size of an average humanoid Reploid with standard-sized armor, like X or Zero.

Additionally, the metallic yellow cuff around his neck was significantly smaller like a ringed collar, and the apparatus on his back curved smoothly along his spine. His feet were still that of his normal form (which seemed strange on a human-type Reploid) and his gray metallic hands still had the green webbing, but the claws weren't as sharp.

Gator's sighed a bit as he rubbed his head with one hand. "If by 'it' you mean what happened to you and the others, then it looks like it. You didn't have to tackle me, y'know."

Wolfang chuckled nervously. "S-sorry about that. I guess old habits die hard, huh?"

Gator returned the gesture. "To be fair, I was tempted to bite you for a moment. But I doubt it would end well. Y'know with these?" Gator then gave a toothy smile of pearly whites, some of his teeth surprisingly pointed.

"Join the club." Wolfang joked before turning his head down the hall and look back at Gator. "So you're alone?"

"I guess. Everyone I passed by is out cold, human or Reploid. The hell happened?" Wheel asked aloud, not expecting an answer.

Wolfang's eyes scanned the hall again. "Search me. I remember hearing a high-pitched noise from the intercom, then everything went black. And from the looks of it, it got just about everyone in Hunter Base. No one's stirring or even rebooting. I have a feeling whatever did this… it was meant to last for something. Something big."

"We should try and send an SOS. With everyone down and out, the door's practically wide open for enemies – or God forbid, Mavericks - to get in and swarm the place. Probably finish off every last one of 'em too…" Wheel grimaced, his eyes leering to the side.

Wolfang shook his head and started moving down the hall. "Bad idea. The communication room would be the first thing an enemy would try and seize. Worst case scenario it could be blocked off, guarded or outright destroyed,. They could even tamper with the teleporting systems and cripple the Hunters from the inside. Not to mention we're not in the best condition right now. But…"

Wolfang trained his eyes on the ceiling cameras above him and along the hall, and seeing that they weren't moving or shifting as they usually did, his hunch was confirmed. "It looks like the cameras are out of commission too. This could be a small blessing in disguise."

Wheel merely raised a brow. "And how's that?"

Wolfang gave a small grin. "If the cameras are out and there are enemies in the base, they can't use the cameras to see if anyone's awake. They'll be blind."

Wheel grinned deviously. "That is fortunate. Well then, where to?"

Wolfang took a moment to ponder. "Well, if we're awake, there's a possibility that others would be as well." He ran a clawed hand down the side of his icy blue bangs. "My first guess would be Slash Beast and the Hunters also in our little… predicament. Chances are they might be awake too."

"How'd you figure?" Wheel inquired again, crossing his green, orange and steely gauntleted arms, his tail swaying a bit.

"Every Reploid and human in the complex seems to be unconscious, but we were able to quickly get back up. Why do you think that is?"

Wheel placed a webbed hand to his chin. "Cuz we're currently neither full Reploid or human at the moment. So if what you say is true, we should look for them and come up with a plan." Gator's expression then became one of worry. "Problem is we don't know where they are, and even if communications weren't down – if they are – we can't communicate with them directly like could normally do with our channels."

Wolfang knelt down to the sprawled-out man with the coffee-stained lab coat and fished out the universal unit in his coat pocket.

The universal unit, or U2, was a special apparatus found and used almost exclusively by the humans working at Hunter Base and select government and political locations worldwide. It carried functions akin to Reploid broadcasting and calculation system functions that Maverick Hunters possessed. Basically it was like a cell phone of sorts and supercomputer in one for portable use. Each U2 is attuned to set frequencies so that frequencies from different governments or countries didn't intercede with each other unless the channel is opened on both sides beforehand.

The list of countries that use this system included the United States, Japan, the United Kingdom, Canada, France, Spain, Mexico, Israel, Russia, Germany, Saudi Arabia, Brazil, Switzerland, China and Singapore, among others.

Wolfang fiddled with the controls a bit, but put it back in the man's pocket after venting a huff of frustration. "No dice; there's no signal. It's not even turning on."

"Well, that's just great…" Gator spat, teeth clenched. "I guess we'll just have to check around on foot, then." His ruby eyes fixed on his companion. "So, where to?"

"Well, Dr. Cain thought we should be laying low for a while with our 'condition', so we wouldn't be doing any active work. We can't teleport, or recharge, or even use the training rooms without some risk…"

A long moment of silence passed before Wolfang continued. "Last I checked, Flame Stag was being monitored by Dawson, and his office is one floor up on the east wing. And there's a number of break rooms scattered around the complex, so chances are we may have to check each one."

"Lovely…" Gator droned with prominent sarcasm. "But if what you said earlier was true, and the others might be awake sooner or later, then chances are they might be moving about too, just to find out what the hell's going on."

Wolfang shuddered. "Oh. Great. That makes this more complicated. There's a break room in all three wings on each floor, right?"

"Yep." Gator sighed. "Fifteen rooms to check. We better get started." As he started walking down the hall towards the west wing, the 6th Unit Hunter groaned as he started pushing some of his green locks of hair out of his vision. "Jeez, hair can be so annoying sometimes. How do humans deal with this stuff anyway?"

"They get haircuts." Wolfang quipped. "And I don't see why you're complaining – you're hair's a lot more manageable than mine. Plus, I got these big ears poking out, and they're sensitive." The former Nightmare Investigator jabbed a clawed thumb at his scalp, where a waterfall of icy blue hair spikes flowed and reached just past his neck collar.

"You got a headband to help you out, Wolf. I don't. Humans use hair gel to deal with wiggy hair, right?"

"Can we save the hair debate for later? We really need to get moving." Wolfang sighed as he began to pick up the pace and passed Gator.

"…Right."

Central Highway, Southbound, 2: 12 PM

Magma Dragoon was becoming increasingly disturbed by his attempts to contact Hunter Base being fruitless and being met with a blank line, both on his internal channel and his Ride Chaser.

"Damn it… Someone pick up!" the red 14th Unit leader as he pressed on the gas and began to take a right at the highway split, heading west.

He tried raising contact with a couple of Navigators – including Alia, Layer and Palette – but met with the same result. He tried contacting X, Zero, Dr. Cain, Signas – anyone big he could think of stationed at the base, but the hollow silence and faint monotone hum was the only response to his efforts.

Fearing the worst, Dragoon started to, for a lack of a better word for Reploids, panic. If there was an attack on Hunter Base – and that was a big 'if' – chances were that someone – anyone – would have sent an SOS of some kind. Even when the signals were jammed, there was loud static inferring such a thing.

But there wasn't even any static. It was deafening silence.

Dragoon began to sort out in his head how this could have happened, but that was only met with more questions forming in his processor.

There were an approximate total of 2400 humans and Hunter Reploids working at or living at Hunter Base, with approximately 85 percent of them on campus at all times. If around 2000 employees suddenly became incapacitated all at once…

Dragoon hastened to activate the emergency call channel on his Ride Chaser, murmuring a silent prayer that someone – anyone – would pick up.

The channel activated and began broadcasting, the activation evident by the new screen on the Ride Chaser's monitor. After a suspenseful fifteen seconds, some noise could be heard.

-KHZZZZZZZZZTT- Hello? Who's there?-

'This voice… isn't that…?' Dragoon paused for a moment before recognizing the voice at last. "Grizzly Slash, I presume?"

-That's my name, don't wear it out. Any reason why the emergency line's been activated? -

Dragoon's tone became more serious. "Have you been able to raise a connection to Hunter Base or with any personnel?"

-… Well, I was expecting a call from Froid regarding the Rouken analysis, but his call's been 30 minutes late. Bit weird, since that cub gets uppity about punctuality. And unlike you Hunters on duty, I don't have direct access to Hunter channels; I'm technically an outside adviser.' A short pause before Grizzly's tone lowered. -What… exactly happened? -

Dragoon's voice turned a bit grave. "Hunter Base's communications are all down, and I can't contact anyone stationed there. Something definitely happened. Hopefully, more personnel not on duty should pick up, cuz the fact that no one's answering is raising so serious red flags for me. But if communications and teleporting really are down, those outside of Japan gat get back on their own. Who else do you know amongst the roster that would be in Japan?"

-Off the top of my head? No idea. Shouldn't you have contacted the police on this? They might be able to lend a hand.-

Dragoon grunted an approving huff. "If I can get in contact with them. With the Hunter Base down, the phone service went down with it. You think you could …?"

Grizzly sighed on the other line. -Already on it. I'll call you back.- With that, Grizzly got off the emergency line, just as Dragoon made it past the four-way highway junction. Taking the middle-right path, Dragoon sped past a couple of cars in the slow lane as he tried to raise contact with anyone else around.

"There's no way I'm the only Hunter in town out of the base." The red Hunter tried to reassure himself. "But I'm not seeing signs of an attack or panic in the distance. No alarms either. This is really getting weird."

-Who the hell keeps turning on the emergency broadcast? This better be important.-

Dragoon's optics widened, recognizing the voice. "Red?! Is that you?! Are you with anyone else?!"

-Calm down, man; I'm with the rest of Red Alert, save for Axl. Something happened, didn't it?-

"Yeah, communications are down, and I can't raise connection with any Hunter or employee at the base. Not even static. It's as flat as they come."

-Jesus Christ… Where are you now? We're gonna head back to HQ. I don't like the way this is playing out.-

"I'm past Exit 62, heading southwest on the highway; I should be there in 10 minutes. Be careful; I think there may have been an attack."

-Did you try calling the police and get backup? I mean, it wouldn't be much against Mavericks, God forbid, but it'd be better than nothing…-

"The phone line is down on my Chaser, so the Hunter's phone line connection must be down at the base. I've only been able to raise you and Grizzly Slash at the pier. And since human employees don't have internal channels like we do, it'd take longer to reach them, so… Besides, Grizzly said he'd call. He's got a working phone to the station."

-Ah. We're already turning around. I hope to God nothing's happened…-

"You've been saying God a lot. Became one of the faithful?" Dragoon joked lightly.

-Says the Buddhist. I'll try to raise anyone I can to meet us there. Watch yourself. Boarski, step on it!-

As Red hung up, Dragoon took a sharp turn down one of the main streets, causing a pair of punk humans to jump back in surprise as the turn necked at top speed.

"The hell is his deal?" one punk guffawed. He had a black trench coat and slacks over a blue shirt emblazoned with a grey skull facing left surrounded by orange flames and had short blond hair with a large central tuft shaped into a Mohawk. His eyes were covered by dark shades, but he had two piercings in his left lower lip and silver ear studs.

"He's probably in a hurry. Ignore 'im; It's not like it's our business." The other voice belonged to a young man as tall as the other, ebon hair styled in a sharpened, pointed regent with a few loose licks of hair framing his forehead, wearing a similar open trench coat with a tall collar with matching slacks, a white t-shirt with a double-ringed X symbol extending passed the rings with two dashes through each line.

He had two small scars on his left cheek and one at the edge of his right eyebrow. He had hardened-looking black eyes, and a lit cigarette hanging in his mouth.

"You sure, bro? I mean, if a Hunter is in a hurry in this day and age, it's possible that-"the blond pondered before the black-haired man gave a callous wave of the hand.

"Moga, Mavericks are ancient history now. And even if some still did exist, they're small time now that the vaccines and shit have been mass-produced." He took a drag of his sin stick.

The blond, Moga, chuckled. "Ya can't blame me for being tense, Honda. Mavericks only became a thing of the past last year. It's been hell for humanity for well over ten years, and the scars still show for it."

"Too true." Honda exhaled the tobacco from his lungs and cranked his neck, his expression contorting at the thought. "Besides, you know how I feel about them."

"Just be careful where you say it, though." Moga huffed, arms shrugging. "The incident at Hunter Base last night was a huge scare to the big brass. I mean, they were all hush-hush about what happened, but I heard from a friend that they don't want what happened to become public."

"You don't say…" Honda Hagakure mused as he lazily looked at the direction where Dragoon had sped down. "Wonder what could've happened."

Moga didn't know it at the moment, but Honda's quote and face betrayed what he claimed. He knew.

He received his call not to long ago. He was to steer clear of whatever was going on in the part of Abel where Hunter HQ stood.

And so, he took this day off to join up with the rest of his gang and hit the arcade. 'This time, I'll beat Hiroshi's score… And maybe Jaguar's while I'm at it…'

MMHQ 3rd Floor, East Wing, Just Outside Dawson's Office

"Well, that can't be good…" Flame Stag mumbled, seeing several more unconscious humanoid Hunters and human staff slumped and sprawled on the hallway floor on either side of the quasi-state deer Reploid. After waking up to see Dawson slumped on his chair, he feared the worst and checked his vitals; regardless of being in the 17th Elite Unit for his career, it was standard procedure that all Hunter staff, regardless of race, to know how to perform CPR or even how to stabilize a human's condition in case of emergency. Stag thought it was over-the-top that the 3,000+ Hunters and human staff had to be educated, but given Dawson's sudden visage, he wasted no time.

Thankfully, his pulse and breathing were stable. Stag tried waking him, but he was out like a light. The same could be said as the burnt orange-haired quasi-Reploid's pink line across his cheekbones crinkled as he cursed to himself, his cheek muscles and lips cringing.

"Looks like everyone's taking a catnap, huh. Don't tell me everyone in the base is in Dreamland…" Stag checked the vitals of the three human workers on either side for a stable condition. They were all breathing normally, but were in a deep sleep state; waking them up would probably not happen for a while.

Stag proceeded to examine his Reploid comrades' offline forms – they were no doubt offline, probably due to some sort of override to their systems. Question is… if everyone in the base besides himself was dreaming of sheep… just how the hell was it pulled off? Who could have done it? What methods were used? When could they have achieved their objective?

Stag groaned. He was more of a punch-and-burn-first kind of guy, not much of a thinker. Not to say he wasn't smart, but formulating hypotheses weren't his strong suit. If anything, Kuwanger was much better than him at that.

But in the midst of his internal monolog, he noticed something permeating the hallway. It was faint, but the brown ears buried in his scalp twitched for a second. "Where the hell's that humming coming from…?", Stag said aloud to himself.

Eyes scanning the hall, he searched the immediate hall for telltale signs of that annoying monotone echoing through the hall. The Heat Knuckle Champion rose a brow as he suddenly had an idea.

"Could that be the intercom?" Getting closer to one of the base's innumerable ceiling speakers, Stag confirmed that was in fact the case.

Without thinking Stag began to pick up pace and walked towards the central extension of the floor where the four wings interceded – that was where the closest elevators were, anyway.

Carefully to avoid or step around anyone passed out on the floor or slumped along the walls, Stag's giant footsteps echoed in the hallway as he strode at a hurried pace, arms pumping slightly.

After roughly sixty seconds, just before reaching the elevator he started to hear footsteps. Fairly heavy ones, too. 'Don't tell me… Mavericks?!'

The sensation of adrenaline – or what would substitute – began to bleed through Stag's thought process, beginning to believe that this was a possible Maverick attack. But that shouldn't be possible!

Ever since the vaccines and anti-virus upgrades became widespread and the last of the Maverick incidents were being quashed, and the rebooting of previous cleared victims of the Sigma Wars – Stag being among them – the Maverick Hunters and their associate factions worldwide made a rather major effort to set up better and more efficient global surveillance networking that allowed pretty much any and all Maverick or terrorist action or movement next to impossible to take anyone by surprise.

In addition to that, efforts were made to make teleportation signals more exclusive to approved bodies, so that Mavericks and terrorists couldn't abuse the technology. That included producing the technology enabling human beings safe teleportation use like the Reploids have, although there were still work to be done for longer 'traffic'. (According to what Stag heard in gossip, the longest human teleportation possible at the moment is roughly the distance from Boston to Washington D.C. without issues.)

Knowing all this, Stag was considering toning his fear down a notch on the grounds that a Maverick attack was highly unlikely without advanced warning.

Despite that, Stag ignited one of his fists mentally and slowly tiptoed towards the hallway intersection to his left, hearing a pair… no, two pairs of footsteps coming around. He was about to fire his fist before hearing "Stag, it's me!"

Upon seeing a familiar mix of purples, blues, red and yellow – not to mention the giant wings – Stag disengaged his makeshift Speed Burner fist seeing Storm Eagle with his arms up to his face, his current form's purple and yellow frizzing a bit. What was odd was Storm was holding what appeared to be a black walkie-talkie-like device in his left hand.

"Storm Eagle… I didn't scare you did I?" Stag asked coyly as he regained composure, the sense of adrenaline fading at the sight of a friend. A small cackle could be heard from behind Eagle, who frowned at the next comment.

"Maybe because your Speed Burner could've wrecked his pretty face. " Sting Chameleon chuckled as he hunched forward a bit, hands on his shins as he relished in his joke, his spiny neon green hair bobbing a little.

"Focus." Storm warned. Immediately the other two returned to a more professional air. "Stag, you didn't happen to see anyone awake, did you? We woke up in the West Wing's practice simulator only to find everyone else there out like a light. The humans are stable, but no one's stirring. None of the other Hunters show signs of rebooting soon either."

"Yeah, it was the same for me. " Stag chimed in, his right hand ruffling the hair on the back of his scalp. "I was in Dawson's office getting examined before some sort of loud noise happened over the intercom and… everything… went dark…" Stag's eyes went wide. "Have you two been hearing a loud humming noise since you woke up?"

Storm and Sting exchanged glances before shaking their heads. "Should we have?" Sting inquired, his visible red eye expressing some level of confusion.

Stag groaned slightly. "The halls have been abuzz with this loud hum on the intercom – don't know why but it's giving me a headache." Stag flicked his right deer ear with two fingers. "It's making these ears hurt a bit."

Storm cupped his chin in thought. "What was you usual hearing range like?" Stag shrugged.

"I wasn't designed for the need to hear high pitches like dog whistles. I was in the 17th Unit – we were more about direct combat than anything else. If anything, the pitch thing would be more of the 0th Unit's bag. I hear Centipede's got a whole book of tricks."

"And you couldn't hear something like this before… you don't think…" Storm unconsciously muttered. Being within earshot Sting stood upright.

"Got something you wanna share with the class?" the commander of the 9th Ranger Unit inquired.

"It's only a theory, but… you think it's possible our personal predicament and how we seem to be the only ones conscious are connected…?"

Stag and Sting shared an odd look. Storm sighed. "Look, I get that it's a snowball's chance in hell, but think about it: so far the only ones who got back up were the three of us, along with Armadillo and Slash. There's a good chance Wolfang and Wheel are up and at 'em, too."

Well, it wasn't too hard to concede that Storm had a bit of a point at the moment. But that answer only bubbled forth more questions. "Note to self: ask those S.E.E.S. kids more about the Dark Hour." Stag said out loud to no one in particular. "Anyway, I was heading towards the central elevators; thought I'd go check the navigation room on the top floor."

"That is where the intercom system's found…" Sting brought up. "Well then, what are we doing wasting around here for?"

"Hold up." Storm intervened with a raised forearm. Holding down a button on the walkie-talkie in his hand, the dual hair-colored Eagle began speaking. "Slash, Armadillo. Do you read, over?"

A second passed. -This is Slash. What's up?- Haughty-sounding and proud. Definitely Slash Beast.

Storm nodded. "We've found Stag and we're heading up to the fifth floor's navigation room. Chances are our attackers might be there. If they take out the systems we as an organization will be reeling from it for months."

A snort came from the device. -No shit. Old man Cain just might have a heart attack over it. That is, if X and Zero don't flip and panic first.-

A sudden –Hey!- and a new, gruffer voice uttering -Give me that!- echoed from the speaker as the new voice spoke

-We're currently checking the ground floor. We passed by the main entrance and welcome desk – there were no signs of intrusion from the outside. There's also no signs of any struggle or alarm.- Armored Armadillo's voice rang through.

=And yet the whole friggin' base falls unconscious at the same time. I smell foul play afoot.- Slash growled. Hearing that, Storm thought of an important question.

"Say, you two. You wouldn't have happened to hear a high-pitched hum in the halls, have you?"

A short pause. -Come to think of it, yeah.- Slash confirmed over the walkie. -It's friggin' annoying. You think it's got something to do with the system meddling?-

-I hear it as well, but it's fairly weak to me. But it's clearly affecting Slash.- Armadillo chimed in. -What about you guys?-

"Sting and I can't hear it. Stag can." Storm replied with a touch of intrigue. "Did you by any chance swing by the surveillance room? Since Armadillo is a unit commander he should have clearance."

-We were just heading there, but remember, the security lock's done through retinal scan – it might not recognize my opti—well, eyes. I'm still gonna go and check.- Armadillo spoke curtly.

"Right. Radio when you got something." Storm replied. "Over and out." Ending the transmission Storm began to walk down the hall. "Well, boys. Shall we?"

The other two following, the trio finally made it to the central port of the 3rd Floor, which was ultimately a couple of stories tall. Walking around the unconscious bodies of the personnel, Stag hurried to the elevator and tapped the up button. Seeing no response, he huffed a sigh. "Elevator's busted. We'll have to walk up."

"We better move it." Storm replied. The trio was about to share a nod when they started hearing footsteps.

One… two… three pairs? Two were coming from down the opposite wing, and one was pounding against the steps. The three pivoted into fighting stances, just in case.

What they didn't expect was a human being running top speed down from the f 4th floor, onto the 3rd and running to the next staircase down. Storm immediately recognized him as one of the three humans who attacked Hunter Base last night!

'What's he doing here?!' Storm mentally shouted to himself as his first instinct was to give chase.

"Wh—Storm! What are you…?!" Stag called out to Eagle before realizing that the human in question was Will from last night. "YOU!" Darting after him in the same fashion, this left Sting to give chase, but not before seeing two familiar faces turn the corner from the other side of the hall.

"Gator! Wolfang! There you are!" Sting shouted triumphantly before turning down the staircase.

"What's going on here?!" Wolfang nearly barked before noticing Will at the front of the chase. "That's…!"

Gator took the initiative and darted down the stairs past the two. "Less talking, more running! That sonnuva bitch's gonna pay for last night!"

As the chase down in the incredibly long flights of stairs ensued, the quasi-animaloid Reploids failed to notice that there was someone on the 5th floor who witnessed the whole thing. He was barely able to walk stably but left the wall and gripped the stair rail firmly.

"You're not… getting away…!" Minato cursed as he hurried down the stairs as best he could, careful not to stumble, and gripping his Evoker in his free hand.

And there you have it, Chapter 12. Bits and pieces were a bit rushed, but I'm still pretty satisfied with the results.

And as always, I'd like to thanks the ever-talented Nu Mon Sage for peer-reading and giving me some pointers. You rock, man. And don't forget to check out his work, too!

Dr. Weird, out.