2273 watched the explosives detonate. He watched them erupt in a burst of intense, brilliant deep-blue fluorescence, breaking the ground apart in an instant. Brick, stone, metal pipes, cables, and everything else vanished beneath that light, turning into dust that filled the air and was absorbed by their armor.
A notification popped up in the upper right corner of his goggles, beeping to indicate that energy had been replenished. 2273 paid it no mind. He raised a hand and made a gesture. Five soldiers came to his side, raised their guns, and aimed at the pit. He took a flare from inside his greatcoat and threw it down.
A soft sound came and went in an instant. A figure appeared on the goggles: 66 meters.
It was green, meaning the distance was still within the armor's tolerable range. The problem was how these traitors had dug such an enormous cavity sixty-six meters underground. According to the detection instruments, the entire underground had been hollowed out.
And then there was that number. Sixty-six. 2273 did not understand the number or the meaning hidden behind it, but the built-in Glyph Array did. At this moment, it was warning its wearer: danger.
Ignoring it, the corporal raised his hand, made another gesture, then gripped his gun and jumped straight down.
The dozens of meters passed in an instant. The howling wind lifted the hem of his greatcoat, and just as he was about to hit the ground, he bent his knees at exactly the right moment. The leg sections of his armor lit up faintly, and dozens of long-warmed micro-arrays activated instantly across the armor on his thighs.
A second later, he landed steadily. He suffered not the slightest harm or recoil, as if he had come down on cotton, relaxed and easy.