Another cycle of a day passed over Aurelia. The sun and moon had switched positions again.
In a large mansion situated near Tyrus, Dmitri and the troops gathered for a short briefing.
They sat around a long wooden table, its texture still flawless as if it had been recently purchased from the store.
Dmitri sat at the center, unfolding a map of the Pandora District.
"According to reports from the patrol team, the HVT has escaped through the waterway using a boat. There is a possibility he may encounter the colony downstream, but whatever happens next is no longer a concern of us."
Everyone let a low chuckle.
It would be an amusing scene should Elias find himself trapped under the Commander’s barrier right after escaping their pursuit.
"With the secondary objective out of the way, we shall continue with the main operation. Each mansion, aside from Tyrus Shearman’s, shall be examined individually and with great detail."
Dmitri’s finger slid across the map, stopping on a cluster of gated properties.
"Four teams so that we don’t crowd each other. Echo One takes the eastern strip. Echo Two will take the northern sector. Echo Three on the eastern area. Bulldog and Escort One, join hands for the sparser southern Pandora."
He grabbed the map and rolled it into a close.
"Comms every twenty minutes. No breaking of glasses, furniture, or equipment unless absolutely necessary. Remember, the first step is to mark items into inventory. When everything is assessed, then we bring the spoils in. You find small ones, gather it into your pack. Understood?"
The soldiers nodded. Zolyah suddenly raised her hand.
"There’s still the threat of the meteorite shards. What if we encounter one?"
"Any place suspected of a shard presence should be avoided. Any other question?"
The room was silent.
"No more time to waste. Everyone is dismissed."
Everyone dispersed, retrieving their gears and assembling with their squads. In no time, four teams of soldiers moved out of the mansion and made their way into their first targets.
Dmitri and his squad stepped inside mansion, their arrival welcomed by an unlocked small gate.
"Hopkins, take point."
One of his scouts moved forward and pushed the metallic gate open.
The path ahead surged uphill, weaving its way through the mansion’s main door.
Soft, metal railings entrenched on either side, leaving space large enough for two people to walk side by side.
On their right, the land had been cut into three terraces like steps carved for the rich.
The lowest level was a flower bed. Hedges were trimmed, and soil framed by pale stone. Plants underneath started to wilt, stems bent and tired.
The middle terrace held a pool, its water dark and still. Leaves gathered like a film across the surface.
And above it all was a decked balcony with lounge chairs and a glass table, positioned to overlook both levels as if the owner enjoyed watching his own luxury from above.
If not for the low walls at the street-level, perhaps he would have enjoyed such a view to himself.
"Smells like vacation here," Hopkins inhaled the intoxicating fragrance of luxury.
"You want to wet yourself in that pool?" Dmitri replied with a question.
"I’d rather take a bath from a zombie’s drool, squad leader."
Hopkins’s lids twitched, snorting as he snapped his attention back to the path ahead.
"Why the rejection?" Dmitri pressed further. "Everyone’s got a taste of that in selection."
"Heh, some memories can be special, squad leader," Hopkins grunted as he vaulted over the ledge. "But there are things we don’t want to experience again."
"No objections to that," Dmitri planted his back on the wall. "Echo One at door entry."
He raised a fist. Two soldiers flowed past between him and Hopkins, quiet and practice—the likes of men who hated wasting time.
The front door was expensive wood with a modern lock. Hopkins tested it once, then it clicked open.
"Unlocked," he whispered.
Dmitri stepped in just enough to scan the interior of the first floor. Clean foyer, and stairs the branched to the left.
At the center, a hallway led to a different place, likely the master wing.
He didn’t admire the chandelier that hang grandiosely at the ceiling.
He counted routes, "Staging point here. Anything we take goes to the foyer first."
A Scout glanced at the living room—wide sofas, premium artworks big and small, and a wall-mounted screen.
"Ignore what we don’t need," Dmitri said, reading that look. "Search the drawers and furniture for anything of value. Take all the time you need, but don’t slack off. Hopkins, take the upper floors with me."
Hopkins smirked, "Like selection."
Dmitri’s eyes didn’t move, "Selection was to teach you one thing—speed without arrogance and greed. Now, move."
"Roger that."
The staircase coiled into the second floor. They spilled into a landing that opened like a gallery. A railing traced the edge, overlooking the foyer below.
Pristine windows lined the outer wall, giving a clean view of Pandora’s quiet streets.
Dmitri didn’t linger. He marked the floor on his head—left wing, right wing, and the far end where a master suite usually hid.
"Left is mine," he said. "Hopkins, go right."
Dmitri swerved to the left corridor. On it, one of the doors sat close together—guest rooms or the like. He didn’t care what it was called, only what was inside of it. Rooms were just containers; gold, necklaces, and the like was what he wanted.
Without hesitation, he gently pulled on the door, finding it locked. He quickly grabbed his lockpick set and in just a moment, broke his way inside.
He went straight to the nightstand, slid the drawer open, and swept his hand through it. The feeling of emptiness crawled in.
He crossed to the dresser on the right, flinging the clothes out of the way. Finding nothing underneath, crouched close to the drawers.
First one, empty. Second drawer held a small jewelry pouch, light and soft.
He dropped it into his tactical pack without checking the brand.
"Earrings, chain," he muttered subconsciously, something to ease the tension and hasten his pace.
When the first room was scoured, he quickly dashed to the next.
Same motion and appreciation.
The vanity first, then the drawers, then closet pockets.
Anything precious that felt small and dense went in. Those that were larger than a fist stayed out, written on a notebook for a future reference.
Down the king-sized bed, he found a watch tucked under some folded clothes. He didn’t admire it and snap it shut.
"I’ll label this."