The heavy blast door slammed shut ahead of them with a thunderous clang, right as Ampelius and his faithful soldiers descended the final steps. The retreating Romans had triggered the seal, which was an emergency lockdown meant to keep whatever was behind them from advancing further.

  Without hesitation, the puppets surged forward, slamming against the reinforced metal with a fury that bordered with that of an animalistic creature. They pounded and clawed like ravenous beasts, as if sensing their prey was just out of reach, with their fists denting the surface with rhythmic, unnatural force.

  Ampelius remained still at the base of the stairwell, his eyes fixed on the sealed entrance. According to the archives, this entire section was supposed to be a dead end. This was mean't to be a structural wall, nothing more. But the presence of the blast door, its size and security, obviously told a different story.

  He knew the Romans were hiding something down here. And he intended to find out what.

  Without needing a command, Casper began scanning the entrance before moving toward a square keypad that sat next to a circular manual lock. It was faintly illuminated by the red emergency lights overhead. Dust and grime hinted at its age, but the locking system was still pulsing with power. But, after a brief pause, Casper’s voice entered Ampelius’ thoughts directly with an update.

  “This keypad only controls the first locking mechanism. There are multiple security layers on this blast door. The Romans must have designed it to withstand a siege, or even a world ending event, but more importantly, to stop unauthorized access from both sides. It’s a failsafe.”

  Ampelius stepped forward, brushing his fingers along the smooth steel.

  “Can we override it?”

  “Not directly. We’d need internal access to trigger the secondary release mechanisms. But unless they’ve installed a full atmospheric control system back there, such as something to recycle oxygen and manage CO?, they’ll require ventilation. And ventilation means access points. I can trace those.”

  There was a flicker of motion as Casper extended a tendril of silvery light, mapping the surroundings in real-time.

  “Give me a moment. If I can locate the vents, I’ll make my way through the internal system and open the door from the other side.”

  Ampelius nodded once. “Then go.”

  The puppets stood silent now, forming a loose perimeter around the sealed door. The air hung heavy, as if the entire facility were holding its breath. Casper had vanished moments ago, leaving behind only the hum of distant machinery and the eerie stillness of waiting.

  Then, a shimmer sparked in front of Ampelius’ eyes. A translucent screen flickered to life in the corner of his vision, something similar to a hologram projected directly into his field of view. Casper’s voice followed.

  “I’ve activated the visual relay. You should be able to see what I see.”

  The screen displayed flickers of foliage, such as branches, bushes, and tree trunks swaying slightly in the breeze. From above, Casper scanned the area beyond the facility, gliding just over the treetops.

  “I’m detecting trace amounts of unusual metals and alloys scattered across this area,” Casper noted. “But I’ve yet to find any clear entry points.”

  Ampelius squinted at the screen, then leaned forward slightly.

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  “There—go back. Look toward that large maple tree. I saw something near the base. A shimmer.”

  Casper adjusted course, circling the tree Ampelius had pointed out. As the view steadied, the screen revealed a pattern, several tiny circular holes that were hidden along the bark, almost invisible unless viewed from just the right angle.

  “Interesting,” Casper said. “Upon closer inspection, these trees are being used as disguised ventilation shafts. Likely for environmental filtration and gas exchange. Very clever.”

  Ampelius folded his arms. “So they’re breathing through the trees.”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes,” Casper replied. “Give me a moment. I’ll see if I can't enter through the closest vent and navigate from there.”

  The thought struck him as he squinted at the hollowed bark.

  “What if the tree grows over the vent?”

  Casper, now halfway through squeezing into a broader intake shaft, paused just long enough to examine the surrounding tech. Several spherical drones, each no larger than a ping pong ball, hovered near the edge of the vent. They emitted a faint hum, like bees circling a hive.

  “It appears the Romans employ micro-filtration drones to manage the airflow,” Casper said.

  “If biological growth begins to obstruct the intake, nanites embedded in the drones are dispatched. They line the vent interior and either dissolve or redirect the material, keeping the airway clear.”

  Ampelius raised an eyebrow. “Since when did Rome have access to that kind of technology?”

  Casper’s voice carried a note of unease. “That’s the more pressing question. The Asventi aren’t aware of the Empire possessing nanite-compatible systems, or at least, not on this scale.”

  “Maybe their intelligence is outdated.”

  “Unlikely,” Casper replied. “They’ve studied this planet for thousands of years. The only true blind spot is the sheer vastness of space.”

  Ampelius gave a small smirk. “Sounds like you just answered your own question. Vast space means slow signals. That kind of distance causes delay, a delay for even advanced species, I would assume.”

  “Exactly. That’s why the Asventi established a local outpost in a nearby star system. All immediate surveillance and decisions are routed through that base. The main intelligence hub still receives updates, but only in larger data batches, sometimes months or years apart.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain how the Romans have this tech,” Ampelius said, his gaze lingering on the tree’s hollowed vents. “Did the Zavons bring it when they attacked?”

  “No,” Casper replied. “The Asventi have confirmed that the Zavons introduced no new technology to this world. Everything they deployed was of their own crude design.”

  “Then how—?”

  “The only assistance provided was a science vessel in low orbit. That’s the same ship you were taken to during your capture. It served more as an observation and containment unit than anything else. That ship has since departed and is currently en route back to the outpost I mentioned earlier.”

  “Then how did Rome get it?”

  Casper paused for a fraction of a second, which was just long enough to be noticeable.

  “That remains… unclear. But the Asventi intend to find out.”

  Casper slithered through the final stretch of ventilation, his compact form barely making a sound as he slipped past narrow junctions and shifting air currents. Eventually, the metal gave way to open space, emerging into the concealed infrastructure of a hidden Roman bunker.

  Even from his small, perched vantage point, the scale of the operation was clear. The facility was alive with quiet, focused activity. Roman soldiers and scientists moved about with practiced efficiency, entirely unaware they’d been compromised. Their boots echoed softly against polished floors, the hum of terminals and overhead lights masking any subtle intrusion.

  Casper paused, scanning the area.

  Several guards were stationed throughout the perimeter, some armored, others more lightly equipped, likely support personnel. There was no alarm, no raised weapons or frantic chatter. Their posture was alert, but not urgent. If anything, they were maintaining a standard watch routine. Until Ampelilus spotted them.

  The same squad he had encountered earlier, the ones who had retreated behind the blast doors who now stood further down the corridor, battered but intact. Their armor bore fresh scuffs and singe marks from the fight. One soldier limped slightly, his leg stiff, while another adjusted a cracked visor. But they weren’t recovering, they were rearming. New weapons were being distributed. Fresh-faced reinforcements moved among them, preparing for something. An operation, a counter-strike… or a defense.

  They were heading back toward the blast door as Casper drifted closer, eyes narrowing behind his shifting form. At the main control panel near the sealed entrance, two guards lounged, both alert but also unprepared for anything beyond routine. No sirens, no lockdown procedures. They acted as if they didn’t realize what waited just on the other side.

  Casper’s voice crackled back into Ampelius’ mind.

  “They haven’t raised an alarm. I’m in position. Opening the door now.”