Page 71 of Broken Forced Mate
But they’re calibrated for human or shifter infiltrators, not wolves moving with psychic assistance.
I wait for a patrol to pass, then extend my abilities outward. The Amanzite ring grows warmer as I push beyond normal limits, suppressing not just my scent but my very life force. The technique makes me feel hollow, disconnected from my own body, like I’m becoming a ghost.
Stay focused. Don’t lose yourself in the suppression.
Guard rotations happen every twenty minutes. Sensor sweeps follow predictable patterns. Magical wards reset and recharge in regular intervals that create brief windows of opportunity.
I find a weak point where recent construction left gaps in coverage. A drainage pipe runs under the fence, barely wide enough for my wolf form but offering concealment from electronic surveillance and magical detection.
Wriggling through requires painful contortions. Metal edges scrape against my sides, and it stings where something sharp catches my shoulder. But the pain keeps me grounded as psychic suppression threatens to disconnect me from physical sensation.
The effort of maintaining suppression while wedging myself through tight spaces pushes my abilities to dangerous limits. My nose begins bleeding, but I can’t even begin to reduce the psychic camouflage until I’m safely inside.
Inside the compound, I pause to reorient myself. Wings extend in multiple directions, connected by walkways. There are smaller buildings scattered around that catch my attention. Warehouses lined with equipment. Workshops where sparks fly from magical forging that sends strange energy patterns rippling through the night. Storage facilities are literally vibrating from whatever power is kept inside.
Guards patrol in larger groups now. I time my movements carefully, darting between buildings when their attention focuses elsewhere.
“Delta Team, report status on the new shipment,” a voice crackles through a nearby radio.
“Magical cores are stable. Ready for installation in the morning batch.”
“Copy. Maintain until the boss gives final approval for field deployment.”
The radio chatter gives me fragments of information, but nothing about Mordaunt’s location. I need to get closer to their command structure and find where he’s directing operations.
Moving between buildings requires constant psychic monitoring of guard positions. Their emotional states tell me when they’re alert versus distracted, when they’re about to change direction, and when they might notice movement in their peripheral vision.
But reading so many minds simultaneously drains my energy fast. The Amanzite grows hotter against my skin as it struggles to keep up with my increased demands.
I circle the main building, looking for entry points that won’t trigger alarms. Ground floor windows show reinforced glass and motion sensors. Security cameras cover every approach. But there’s an old service entrance on the north side that looks less monitored.
The area around the service door feels different. It’s using older magical wards and has less sophisticated electronics. Like they upgraded most of the building, but left this section with the original security.
The door uses an electronic lock I can manipulate with psychic energy. The Amanzite grows hotter as I focus mental force on the mechanism, feeling tumblers respond to directed thoughts. Each component moves exactly where I need it to, and the lock disengages.
Inside, I find corridors lined with office doors. Normal business spaces that mask whatever darker purposes drive this organization. But the basement levels…that’s where real activity happens. I can sense it through the building’s structure, a concentration of people and energy below ground.
I follow the stairs downward, and my ears swivel as I try to pick up any indication that someone is nearby. I reach a heavy door marked “AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.” The lock is more sophisticated, and it requires multiple biometric scans and passcodes. But psychic manipulation works on any electronic system if you understand the underlying patterns.
Reading the lock’s electronic signature, I map the authorization protocol and replicate it using mental energy.Biometric scanners accept physically generated data as easily as physical input.
Beyond the door lies a workshop that makes my blood run cold and my wolf instincts scream danger.
Weapons fill every surface—cannons, mounted artillery, devices that pulse with dark energy. But these aren’t conventional arms. They’re magical constructs powered by stolen Amanzite cores.
Workbenches hold partially assembled devices with targeting systems designed for precision strikes. Power cores that could level entire buildings. Range enhancers that extend effective killing distance far beyond anything I’ve seen before.
But it’s the modifications that truly terrify me. Each weapon bears enhancements designed to amplify destructive potential beyond normal magical limits. Focusing arrays that concentrate energy into devastating beams. Resonance chambers that multiply explosive force. Guidance systems that ensure maximum lethality.
At the center of the workshop, a massive device dominates the space. It looks like a cannon, but energy patterns around its barrel suggest something far more devastating. A weapon designed not just to destroy buildings, but to drain the life force from everything within its range.
“Status on the demonstration piece?” a voice asks from across the room.
“Ready for field testing. We just need the psychic enhancer to reach full potential.”
“The omega target?”
“Mordaunt wants her alive for the initial test. Her abilities will amplify the weapon’s psychic resonance.”
