Reliable Excavation & Demolition: A Rotten World, and Pure Chaos

The RED Team stumbled through the thick foliage, the remnants of teleportation energy still crackling in the air behind them. The transition had been rough—Scout had nearly faceplanted, and Soldier had immediately started shouting about whether they had been sent to enemy territory. But the most concerning part was their surroundings. They had no idea where they were.

"Alright, fellas, sound off," Engineer said, adjusting his goggles. "Everyone in one piece?"

"Define 'piece,'" Scout grumbled, brushing dirt off his sleeves. "'Cause I feel like I left my stomach back there."

Spy exhaled smoke through his nose, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. Every battlefield had a rhythm, a pattern, but this place was an enigma. No tracks, no signs of recent conflict—just an unsettling quiet. He adjusted his gloves, his mind already running through contingencies. "Zhis is not any battlefield I recognize. Zhis is… new."

Sniper crouched low, rubbing some dirt between his fingers. "Trees are different. Air's different. Even the bugs sound weird."

Heavy cracked his knuckles. "Hmph. We fight here now?"

"Don't know yet, big guy," Engineer muttered. He tapped at his teleporter device, but the screen was blank. "Looks like we're flyin' blind for now. First thing we need to do is find civilization."

Medic let out a delighted chuckle. "Ah, an entirely new environment to test on! Zhis will be wunderbar! Perhaps some fascinating new diseases, or unique physiological structures to examine!"

Pyro let out a muffled giggle and twirled their flamethrower, completely unfazed by their sudden displacement.

"We move, then we plan," Spy said, already stepping forward. "Standing around will get us nowhere."

Days passed, and the RED Team slowly began piecing together the world they had landed in. They found roads, followed travelers from a distance, and eventually discovered that the dominant language was eerily similar to their own. The first time they entered a village, they knew they were far from home.

The architecture was different, blending rustic stonework with surprisingly intricate mechanisms—water wheels powering more than just mills, street lamps that glowed without flame, and reinforced structures that hinted at engineering beyond their apparent medieval setting. It was an odd fusion of old and new, raising more questions than answers.

The team had split into smaller groups to gather intel. Spy, Sniper, and Scout had blended into the crowds, listening in on conversations, while Engineer, Heavy, and Medic scouted the outskirts of towns, examining structures and defenses. Soldier, of course, had enthusiastically declared he would "interrogate" someone, but thankfully, Spy managed to redirect his energy toward observing the military presence instead.

One thing became clear: they were stranded, and they needed a stronghold. Frustration simmered beneath the surface—Scout grumbled about being stuck in "medieval nowhere," while Engineer kept tinkering with his teleporter in the hopes of a breakthrough. Spy, ever composed, masked his irritation behind a calm demeanor, but even he knew they had to act fast. The others fell somewhere between resignation and determination, each handling the situation in their own way. Whatever their personal feelings, they all agreed on one thing: they needed a place to regroup, and they needed it soon.

"We need a base," Engineer stated as they sat in an abandoned storehouse they had claimed as a temporary hideout. "Somewhere defensible, plenty of space, and easy to maintain."

"An estate," Spy mused, adjusting his cuffs. "Something already built, preferably with resources ve can repurpose."

"And I say we take it by force!" Soldier barked. "Seize the high ground and claim it as our own!"

"Could work, but we don't got the numbers for a war, pal," Engineer said, rubbing his chin. "We need to start small."

"No one's gonna give us a mansion just for askin'," Scout pointed out. "We gotta find one we can just… y'know, walk in and take."

Word on the streets pointed them toward an opportunity—some noble family with a sprawling estate, lightly guarded, and sitting on prime land. More importantly, the locals spoke of them in hushed tones, hinting at cruelty and exploitation. Rumors of disappearances and mistreated servants surrounded the estate, making it an easier target from both a tactical and moral standpoint. Aria's family. The way people talked, it sounded like an easy target, and if they were lucky, it would have enough supplies to last them while they figured out their next move.

"Sounds like the perfect spot," Engineer said, adjusting his goggles. "We go in at night, clear it out, and set up shop."

"And if anyone gets in ze way…" Spy smirked, lighting another cigarette. "Ve remove zhem."

Over the next few days, they formulated a plan. Spy infiltrated the estate, slipping into the mansion under the cover of night, mapping out guard patrols and exits. Sniper scouted vantage points, ensuring he could provide cover fire if necessary. Engineer identified weak points in the estate's defenses, noting key structural vulnerabilities. Meanwhile, the rest of the team prepared for the assault, ensuring they had the firepower and coordination to overwhelm any resistance swiftly.

Soldier, impatient as ever, paced restlessly. "Too much thinking, not enough fighting!" he grumbled. Across the room, Sniper leaned against a crate, idly sharpening his kukri. "Yeah? And rushing in blind gets you killed." Soldier huffed but didn't stop pacing, his fingers twitching as if itching for action. "Bah! Too much planning, not enough action! We strike like a lightning bolt—sudden, decisive, and glorious!"

"We strike smart," Sniper corrected. "No need to get messy."

"Ze objective is efficiency," Spy added. "Not destruction."

The night before the mission, they made their final preparations. Soldier was eager, hammering his shovel against his palm with anticipation. "A good fight! Just what we need!"

"Keep it quiet, mate," Sniper warned. "We're not looking to stir up the whole town."

"We hit fast and disappear before anyone figures out what happened," Engineer reminded them. "No leaving traces that point back to us."

"Zhis is a test, nothing more," Spy said. "Do not overcomplicate it."

As night fell, the RED Team moved toward the mansion, shadows swallowing them as they prepared to make their first move in this new world. They weren't here to play hero or overthrow governments. They needed a home base, and Aria's estate was about to become it—whether its current owners liked it or not. The hunt had begun.

The night was thick with silence, broken only by the distant chirping of insects and the rustle of leaves in the wind. The estate, lavish and sprawling, stood in eerie stillness, its high walls and ornate gates giving an illusion of security. But illusions could be shattered.

That same suffocating silence pressed down on Tatsumi's chest as he hurried through the corridors, his breath shallow, heart pounding. The sight of a body slumping lifelessly to the floor, a red-suited figure standing over it, cemented his fears. These were not the assassins he had been warned about—these were something else.

Gunfire and screams erupted in other wings of the estate, the sound bouncing off the marble floors and polished walls. Shadows danced in the flickering candlelight as more intruders emerged from the darkness, each of them a harbinger of death. The air reeked of cordite and fresh blood, an oppressive mix that clung to the senses. Tatsumi clenched his sword, but his fingers trembled against the hilt. This was no battlefield—it was a massacre.

Inside the grand dining hall, Aria's parents sat in opulent comfort, unaware of the slaughter unfolding within their own estate. The father lazily swirled his wine, entertained by his own musings on wealth and power, while his wife dabbed at her lips with a silk napkin, oblivious to the doom creeping toward them.

A heavy creak from the rafters above went unnoticed—until it was too late. Aria's father barely had time to lift his gaze before a high-velocity bullet shredded the chandelier's support. The massive fixture crashed down in an instant, shattering porcelain and glass, pinning him beneath its crushing weight. His agonized scream cut short as the shards of crystal and metal pierced his body, his breath wheezing out in gurgles of blood. His fingers twitched feebly before his body stilled, his face frozen in a mask of shock and horror.

Aria's mother shrieked in horror, scrambling backward, only to collide with something impossibly solid. A towering figure loomed behind her, casting a monstrous shadow over the carnage.

"Weak," Heavy rumbled.

With terrifying ease, his massive hands gripped her sides, and with one brutal motion, he tore her apart. A sickening crack echoed through the hall as her body was split in two, crimson splattering across the pristine tablecloth, the opulence of the room tainted with raw brutality. The scent of iron thickened in the air, mixing with the half-eaten feast still steaming on the table, a grotesque contrast of indulgence and death.

Alarms blared. The mansion's last guards, sluggish in their panic, scrambled for weapons, but it was already too late. Engineer's sentry gun, tucked away in the shadows, whirred to life, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets that cut them down before they could so much as raise an alarm. The rapid-fire clatter echoed across the halls, drowning out dying screams.

Scout zipped between them like a phantom, his bat caving in skulls with sickening cracks, laughing all the while. One of the guards managed to swing his blade in a desperate arc, but Scout ducked under it with effortless agility, delivering a brutal counterstrike that shattered bone. "Aww man, ya almost had me!" he taunted, stepping over the fresh corpse with a chuckle.

Spy emerged from the shadows, adjusting his tie as he stepped over a lifeless body. He wiped his knife clean on the fabric of a fallen guard's uniform, the dim candlelight gleaming off the blade. "Tch. They die too easily," he mused, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. Smoke curled lazily in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of blood and gunpowder.

Elsewhere, deep in the forest overlooking the noble estates, Night Raid had been watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Their plan was precise—silent infiltration, swift execution, and a clean getaway before the guards even knew what hit them. It was how they operated. It was how they survived.

But something was wrong.

Akame, crouched on a thick branch, tensed suddenly. Her crimson eyes narrowed, and her grip on Murasame tightened.

"Something's wrong."

Leone, leaning lazily against a tree below, raised a brow. "Huh?"

"The air... the scent of blood is strong. Too strong."

Leone sniffed the air, her golden eyes sharpening. "Shit, you're right." She pushed off from the tree, now fully alert. "We haven't moved yet. So who the hell—"

Lubbock shifted, adjusting the wires of his Teigu between his fingers. His usual easygoing demeanor faded as his instincts screamed at him. "There shouldn't be any action tonight. We waited for the right moment. Someone else beat us to it."

Mine clicked her tongue, already lifting Pumpkin to her shoulder. "Who the hell would do our job for us? Another assassin group? We would've heard about it."

Bulat crossed his arms, watching the estate intently. The warm glow of fire flickered in the distance, gunfire and screams blending into a twisted symphony of death. "Whoever it is, they don't fight like assassins." His voice was firm, tense. "That's battlefield carnage."

Akame remained silent, eyes locked on the distant estate. Her heartbeat remained steady, but a gnawing unease settled in her gut. This wasn't a clean assassination. This was slaughter. And that meant unknown variables.

She exhaled slowly, pushing aside the unease. "We move in. Now."

Without another word, Night Raid vanished into the shadows, their mission altered in an instant. They were no longer just executioners. Now, they were witnesses to something far more unpredictable.