I’ll be the Red Ranger
Chapter 181 – Floor 300th

- Oliver -

As Oliver advanced toward the looming silhouette of the military base, the cacophony of warfare engulfed his senses. The sound of gunfire echoed across the barren landscape, punctuated by the thunderous detonations of missiles.

A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. Was his plan solid enough? Had they already discovered his infiltration? The thought spurred a quickened pace. His steps grew brisk as he approached the main gate, his eyes scanning the chaos ahead.

The base was a hive of activity, though disorder reigned. Soldiers scrambled in every direction, their focus divided between repelling intruders and maintaining order within. Amidst the turmoil, Oliver spotted other candidates—some desperately attempting to breach the base's defenses, others fleeing from pursuing mechs. The air was thick with tension, the shouts of orders and cries of alarm melding into a discordant symphony.

His heart pounded as he noticed the guards who should have been monitoring the gate were occupied. They stood with weapons raised, firing at a young boy sprinting across the open ground, his face a mask of determination and fear. Seizing the opportunity, Oliver activated [Silent Steps]—a technique he'd mastered while training with the Sixth Division.

The world seemed to hush around him. His footsteps became feather-light whispers against the gritty terrain. The skill allowed him to move without drawing attention, his presence slipping beneath the notice of those around him. Clad in the uniform he'd taken from the incapacitated officer, indistinguishable from the standard attire of the base personnel, he blended seamlessly into the backdrop of chaos.

With purposeful strides, he walked straight through the gate. The guards remained oblivious, their concentration fixed on their target.

Keeping his head held high and his gaze steady, Oliver navigated the cluttered grounds toward the main building. He avoided eye contact, his demeanor reflecting the confidence of someone who belonged there. The din of alarms and the rush of personnel provided the perfect cover.

Upon reaching the monolithic structure, he made his way to a small side door set into the sleek, imposing facade. The door was unremarkable yet formidable—crafted from heavy, reinforced metal, its surface unmarred and devoid of handles. It radiated a sense of impregnable security, likely designed to withstand assaults and prevent unauthorized access.

But Oliver didn't intend to force his way through. Beside the door, a simple card reader glowed faintly. Retrieving the access card he'd pilfered earlier, he swiped it through the scanner. A tense moment passed as the system processed his credentials.

[Evaluating…] flashed on the display.

Oliver held his breath.

[Access Granted. Welcome.]

A soft click signaled the release of the electronic locks. With a gentle push, the door slid open, and he slipped inside.

The contrast between the tumult outside and the serene interior was stark. Oliver found himself standing in an immense atrium. To his right, five colossal cylindrical elevators stood sentinel. The door behind him closed with a resonant thud, followed by the metallic clunk of the locks re-engaging.

Ahead, the passageway branched toward what appeared to be a storage area and a transportation dock. Crates were stacked high, and the distant sound of loaders hinted at activity beyond. Just as Oliver prepared to proceed, the soft hiss of an electronic lock disengaging echoed from behind him.

Two men emerged from a doorway, their footsteps confident and unhurried. They walked side by side, engrossed in animated conversation.

"It's been like this since early morning," one of them said, his voice carrying a trace of exasperation. "They're constantly attacking the base. It's nothing that really affects us, but it's a nuisance."

The other man chuckled. "Tell me about it. It's thrown off the whole schedule."

Their uniforms marked them as engineers—functional gray jumpsuits adorned with utility belts and patches that informed their specialization. As they approached, one of them noticed Oliver standing in front of an elevator. The man's eyes held a mixture of curiosity and mild suspicion.

"Hello there. Everything alright?" he inquired, tilting his head slightly.

"Yes, all good," Oliver replied, adopting a relaxed posture. He aimed for casual confidence, masking the undercurrent of tension.

"New here, are you?" the man continued, a friendly smirk forming. "Every newbie has that lost look about them." He nudged his companion, who nodded in agreement.

Oliver seized the opportunity. "That's right," he said, offering a polite smile. "I was recently transferred. Served as an officer at another base."

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"Is that so?" The man's expression brightened. "Well, welcome aboard! We're engineers—I'm Tim, and this here is Martin." Martin gave a small wave. "Today was supposed to be your orientation, wasn't it? Guess that's not happening with all these attacks going on."

"It was," Oliver agreed, feigning a hint of disappointment. "One of the officers asked me to wait here."

Tim waved a hand dismissively. "Ah, forget that. This is gonna drag on all day. If you like, we can at least show you around the engineering sector. That way, when the brass finally get some time, they can fill you in on the rest."

Oliver's eyes lit up at the prospect. Not only would this give him a chance to gather intel, but it would also help solidify his cover. He maintained his composure, keeping his tone measured. "That would be great. I appreciate it."

"Perfect!" Tim clapped his hands together. "First bit of advice: never, and I mean never, take the first elevator." He gestured toward the nearest lift, its doors gleaming but slightly dented. "Thing's always getting stuck—a real piece of junk. Right, Martin?"

Martin rolled his eyes. "Been trapped in it six times," he grumbled. "Trust me, it's not a fun experience."

Tim nodded sagely. "You'll hate being stuck, especially given how long it takes to get up and down."

Oliver arched an eyebrow. "Does it really take that long?"

"Absolutely," Tim affirmed, leading them away from the cursed elevator toward another bank of lifts. "The base extends three hundred levels below the surface. Just imagine—three hundred floors. And as if the absurd travel time wasn't bad enough, the heat down there can be brutal."

The sound of an elevator door sliding open drew their attention. It was the fifth elevator.

"This one's one of the good ones. Hardly ever gives us trouble," Martin explained, a hint of relief in his voice.

Oliver turned to look at the elevator and was taken aback by its size. The cylindrical shaft was far larger than he had anticipated. The front was constructed entirely of a transparent material—perhaps reinforced glass or some advanced polymer—allowing an unobstructed view of the descent ahead.

As they stepped inside, the doors whispered shut behind them. Oliver felt a slight vibration underfoot as the elevator prepared to begin its journey downward.

"How long until we reach the bottom?" he asked, unable to mask his curiosity.

"Usually between ten to fifteen minutes," Martin replied casually.

"Seriously?" Oliver's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Seriously. At least this one has the air conditioning working properly," Martin said, adjusting the collar of his jumpsuit. "The deeper we go, the higher the pressure and temperature. It can get pretty steamy down there if it weren't for the thermal insulation and good climate control."

Oliver nodded thoughtfully. The three men stood in companionable silence as the elevator began its descent. Through the transparent wall, Oliver watched as levels upon levels of the subterranean facility blurred past them—an intricate maze of steel girders, conduits, and platforms. He couldn't shake the impression that the shaft was endless, descending into the very bowels of the Earth.

He glanced at the control panel, noting the floor indicators ticking down rapidly. They had already passed level -50, and there was no sign of slowing.

"Before coming here, which base were you stationed at?" Martin asked, breaking the quiet.

Oliver sensed no ulterior motive behind the question—just genuine curiosity, perhaps mixed with a desire to pass the time during the long ride.

"On Luna," Oliver replied smoothly. "I worked in Mecha engineering."

Martin's eyes lit up. "Really? That must have been incredible," he said with enthusiasm, which was evident in his voice. "The Luna facilities are top-notch. So, what made you switch to bioengineering?"

‘Bioengineering?’ Oliver's thoughts stumbled. He hadn't anticipated this line of questioning.

"Unfortunately, I didn't have much choice," he improvised, giving a slight shrug. "Orders from the higher-ups."

"Ah, I see," Martin said sympathetically. "We engineers don't often get shuffled around like that, but we've heard all sorts of things about the officers' assignments."

"Don't worry," Tim interjected with a reassuring smile. "Despite the base being pretty old, it's a great place to learn and advance your career. Especially since this project is one of a kind."

"How old is it?" Oliver asked, genuinely intrigued.

"They started construction right after the First Wave," Martin explained, scratching his head thoughtfully. "I don't know the exact details because the technology they used isn't exactly public knowledge."

"There probably aren't any public articles about it," Tim added. "Last time I tried to research it, agents even showed up at my house."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Agents?"

"Yeah," Tim said, chuckling nervously. "They weren't too happy about my curiosity. Told me to stick to my designated responsibilities."

The elevator continued its descent, the floor indicator now showing -200 and counting. Oliver felt a subtle change in the atmosphere—the air becoming slightly heavier, a faint warmth seeping through despite the climate controls.

"Is the base really that deep?" he mused aloud.

"Three hundred levels below the surface," Martin confirmed. "That's why it takes so long to get down here."

Finally, they felt the elevator slow, the hum of the machinery shifting in pitch. With a gentle halt, the elevator came to rest.

"We've arrived," Tim announced, a note of excitement in his voice.

The doors slid open smoothly, and Oliver stepped out into a vast, cavernous space. He was immediately struck by the sheer scale of the facility. It resembled an enormous industrial hangar, constructed of reinforced concrete and steel. The ceiling vaulted high above—easily thirty meters tall—supported by massive pillars that disappeared into the shadows.

Far overhead, clusters of luminous orbs floated, emitting a soft greenish glow that bathed the entire area in an ethereal light. The illumination was just enough to reveal the outlines of colossal structures scattered throughout the space—enigmatic machines whose purposes were not immediately evident.

"What the hell is this?" Oliver spoke.