The teleportation room was cold—colder than the rest of the facility, as if the machines themselves sucked warmth from the air. Banks of equipment lined the walls, humming with barely contained energy, their displays flickering with coordinates and power levels and warnings that no one ever heeded.
Prime 10 stood at the center of it all, her dark grey mask catching the sterile light. She was still, utterly still, the kind of stillness that preceded violence.
328 stood at the console, her white mask hiding the fear on her face. Her fingers moved over the controls, inputting coordinates, running diagnostics, doing everything she could to delay the inevitable.
"Mam," she said, her modulated voice carefully neutral, "are you sure about going alone? We only have a rough idea of where they are. The margin of error is significant. We should consider—"
"Your suggestions are irrelevant." Prime 10's voice was quiet, but it cut through 328's words like a blade. "Input the coordinates."
328's fingers hesitated over the final sequence. "If you're off by even a few kilometers, you could materialize inside solid rock. Or thousands of feet in the air. The teleportation array wasn't designed for—"
"The coordinates."
A long pause. Then 328's fingers pressed the final key.
The machine hummed louder, the energy in the room building to a fever pitch. Prime 10 stepped onto the platform, her posture unchanged, her resolve absolute.
She reached up and touched something at her temple—a small device, barely visible, that pulsed with a faint blue light. A personal teleportation stabilizer. It wouldn't guarantee accuracy, but it would keep her from materializing inside a mountain.
"Mam." 328's voice was barely a whisper now. "Please reconsider."
Prime 10 looked at her—really looked, for the first time since entering the room. Through the slits in that dark grey mask, 328 could see eyes that held no fear, no doubt, no hesitation.
"I don't reconsider," Prime 10 said. "I act."
The light built. The hum became a roar.
And then—
Silence.
The platform was empty. Prime 10 was gone.
328 stared at the space where she'd stood, her heart pounding against her ribs. She'd done what she was told. She'd input the coordinates. She'd watched a Prime walk into uncertainty without flinching.
Now all she could do was wait.
And hope that when Prime 10 found them, the survivors were ready.