CHAPTER 46: CLOSER LOOK

The briefing ended with a low electronic tone. Screens dimmed to standby mode. Personnel resumed their tasks, though every pair of eyes in the room still flicked toward the three visitors—curious but disciplined enough not to stare for long.

Albert stood first.

"Ward, run the post-brief tour."

Ward nodded, tapping his tablet. "Come on. This part’ll help you understand how we operate."

Ragna stretched her arms until her shoulders cracked. "As long as it doesn’t involve more invisible screens and talking walls."

Mira shot her a look. "Please behave."

"I’m trying," Ragna said defensively. "Your ’trying’ and my ’trying’ look different."

Lyris rose last, brushing off imaginary dust from her skirt. Her eyes flicked to the walls—metal, seamless, unnatural. "If this is only your planning chamber, then the rest of this fortress must be... impressive."

Albert paused by the door. "We don’t call it a fortress," he corrected. "This is a Forward Operating Base."

Ragna squinted. "Forward... what?"

"Base," Ward translated. "A place where soldiers live, train, work, and deploy."

"That sounds exactly like a fortress," Mira muttered.

"Not the way we use it," Albert replied. "You’ll see."

He pushed the door open.

The hallway beyond stretched long and straight, lit by ceiling lights encased in glass panels. The three adventurers walked slowly at first, not from fear but from sensory overload. Nothing in their world was this clean, this precise, this deliberately structured.

Ragna poked a wall with one claw. "Feels cold. Hard. Like metal armor."

"It is metal," Ward said.

"All of it?" Lyris asked in disbelief.

"Steel. Reinforced plating. Concrete composite behind it."

The words meant nothing to them, but their instincts understood one thing: this place wasn’t built to fall.

They moved past a pair of passing soldiers in camouflage uniforms. The men nodded sharply at Albert and Ward, then glanced curiously at the three newcomers without breaking stride.

Ragna frowned.

"They’re so... calm," she said under her breath. "We’re outsiders. Armed ones. Shouldn’t they be suspicious?"

"They’ve seen strangers before," Ward replied casually. "You’re not the scariest thing to walk through these halls."

Mira blinked. "That is not reassuring."

Ward’s grin widened. "Not supposed to be."

They stepped out through a sliding metal door that opened with a quiet hiss.

And the world widened instantly.

The central base grounds spread out across a vast open space, framed by buildings on all sides. Trucks rolled along paved roads. Forklifts beeped as they transported crates. Soldiers hurried from one station to another. Engineers tinkered with machines on raised platforms. There was noise everywhere—engines, tools, chatter, radio static—but none of it felt chaotic.

Atlas worked like a living machine.

Lyris slowed to a stop, overwhelmed by movement.

Her gaze drifted upward.Massive antennas rose like steel trees. Drones buzzed lazily across the sky. A watchtower rotated smoothly as sensors tracked distant movement.

"This..." she whispered, "is a city."

"A military one," Albert corrected.

"But there are no nobles," Mira noted. "No lords shouting orders. No slaves. No servants. Everyone moves like they know exactly what they’re meant to do."

"That’s the point," Albert said. "Order. Efficiency. Structure."

Ragna’s ears flicked. "We have structure. Guilds. Armies."

Albert shook his head. "Your world’s armies depend on individual heroism, magical strength, or noble-born commanders. Ours depend on systems. Planning. Coordination."

Ward added, "One soldier alone is nothing. The unit wins. The strategy wins. The logistics win."

"Logistics," Mira repeated. "You mentioned that before. What does it mean, exactly?"

Albert pointed toward a group of personnel loading crates into a large vehicle.

"It means planning how to move food, weapons, water, equipment, medical supplies, fuel—everything an army needs—exactly where it must go, exactly when it must arrive. Without logistics, even the strongest warrior starves. The greatest weapon runs empty. Armies collapse."

Lyris exchanged a glance with Mira. "Our kingdoms... do not do that."

"That’s why yours lose wars," Ragna muttered.

Ward suppressed a snort.

Their walk continued.

They approached a large open training field where dozens of soldiers were running synchronized drills. Commands echoed crisply across the yard.

"Squad A, advance!"

"Cover fire position!"

"Move, move, move!"

The adventurers stopped at the edge of the field. The soldiers moved in perfect coordination, switching formations seamlessly, their boots striking the ground in unison.

Ragna tilted her head. "Why do they all move together? Isn’t it better to fight how you want?"

Ward grinned. "Because teamwork beats lone wolves. Always."

Mira stared, fascinated. "Their weapons don’t glow. They’re not enchanted. They’re not magic. And yet the discipline... it’s extraordinary."

"They train for years," Albert said. "They rehearse until it becomes instinct."

Lyris watched the formation shifts with narrowed eyes. "Their unity... it resembles a well-practiced phalanx. But faster. And without shields."

"No shields needed," Ward said. "Our armor stops a lot. Our tactics handle the rest."

Ragna crossed her arms. "I still don’t get it. No mana. No blessings. No enchanted weapons. How do you match a demon that spits fire or a basilisk that melts stone?"

Albert didn’t hesitate. "We adapt."

She scoffed. "That’s it? You adapt?"

Albert turned to face her. His expression didn’t harden, didn’t shift—just stayed confident.

"It’s enough," he said.

Something in his tone made even Ragna stop arguing.

The next area was a weapons testing zone.

Metal barriers lined the perimeter. Instructors stood next to racks of rifles and gear. Targets—some shaped like humanoids, others like beasts—stood at various distances.

Ragna’s ears perked instantly. "Can we see them fight something?"

Ward barked a short laugh. "You want a demonstration?"

"Yes," Ragna said bluntly. "Show us how you kill."

Mira groaned. "Must you word it like that?"

"Yes," Ragna repeated without shame.

Albert gave Ward a nod.

Ward whistled sharply and waved over an instructor. "Live demo, please. Semi-auto and full-auto."

The instructor nodded, grabbed a rifle, and walked to the firing position. He adjusted his stance, raised the weapon, and—

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

Each shot echoed like miniature thunder. The target’s head snapped back, holes punched cleanly through it.

Lyris flinched so hard she nearly dropped to a crouch. Mira covered her ears too slowly and winced. Ragna’s fur puffed out along her tail and neck.

"What—what WAS that?!" Lyris gasped.

"Rifle," Ward said. "This one’s low-caliber."

"That’s LOW?!" Mira shouted over the ringing in her ears.

The instructor switched his rifle’s mode.

Then he squeezed the trigger.

BRRRRRRRRRRRT.

A stream of bullets tore into an armored target, ripping through metal like it was cloth.

Ragna’s jaw dropped. "That... that was not skill. You just sprayed death."

Ward shrugged. "Effective, isn’t it?"

Mira swallowed. "Your world... does not rely on magic. You make your own magic."

Albert corrected gently, "We rely on science. Physics. Engineering. Not miracles."

Lyris stared at the shredded metal target. "And your enemies... you fight others like yourselves?"

Albert’s expression darkened a shade. "Sometimes. Too often."

They moved again, this time toward the engineering wing.

A massive warehouse-like structure housed vehicles undergoing maintenance. Mechanics crawled under armored transports. Sparks flew from welding tools. Engines roared as they were tested. The air smelled of oil, hot metal, and exhaust—a sharp contrast to forest scents the adventurers were used to.

Mira stopped at the entrance, overwhelmed. "This is... a forge the size of a castle."

Ragna padded closer to one of the vehicles.

"This one looks angry," she said, touching the side of a Humvee.

"It will be," a mechanic replied without looking up. "When we’re done tuning it."

Lyris noticed an object hanging from a crane—an enormous engine suspended in the air.

"How do you lift something so big?" she whispered.

Ward pointed upward. "Hydraulics. Machinery. Look."

A worker pressed controls. The engine rose smoothly, as if weightless.

Ragna’s tail swished. "If our blacksmiths saw this, they’d start screaming."

Albert smirked. "Ours scream for different reasons."

Their tour wound down near the residential block.

Rows of dorm-style housing lined the streets. Soldiers relaxed outside—playing cards, cleaning equipment, sharing food from ration packs. Others jogged through designated running lanes. It wasn’t luxurious, but it was organized and safe.

Lyris watched two soldiers argue cheerfully over a game of cards.

"They act like villagers," she murmured. "Not warriors preparing for war."

"Why wouldn’t they?" Ward said. "Downtime is part of the job."

Mira tilted her head. "You let your soldiers... rest? Talk? Laugh?"

Albert raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Ragna blinked. "Our mercenary companies never do that. If you’re not training, you’re guarding. If you’re not guarding, you’re sleeping."

"No wonder morale sucks," Ward muttered under his breath.

Albert ignored the comment.

"We’ve found that giving people humanity makes them better fighters," he explained.

Lyris looked around again, this time slower.

Buildings with functioning lights. Roads without potholes. Workers with purpose. Soldiers with camaraderie. A structure that didn’t depend on the whims of nobles or the random strength of adventurers.

This wasn’t a fortress.

This was a world.

A different world.

After nearly an hour of walking, observing, questioning, and being stunned repeatedly, the three adventurers stood at the edge of the central plaza.

Ward checked his tablet. "Commander, intel wants us in fifteen."

Albert nodded. "Understood."

He turned to the adventurers.

"You’ve seen a portion of how Atlas functions. Any questions before we move to the next phase?"

The three exchanged looks.

Ragna raised her hand first.

"Can we have more of that chicken later?"

Mira smacked her arm.

Lyris sighed. "Forgive her."

Albert allowed a faint smile. "Yes. Food isn’t restricted."

Ragna cheered quietly.

Mira stepped forward next.

"Your people," she said slowly, choosing her words, "are unlike any kingdom we’ve known. If your technology grows this fast... then fighting the Demon Lord may not be hopeless."

Albert answered with calm certainty. "It never was."

Finally, Lyris spoke.

Her voice was quiet, but steady.

"If your world builds order from nothing... if it turns ruins into cities... then perhaps the Goddess sent you here for a reason."

Albert didn’t deny it.

Ward clapped his hands once. "All right. Enough philosophy. Phase two is coming up."

"What’s phase two?" Ragna asked.

Albert turned away slightly.

"Integration."

The three adventurers straightened instinctively.

Mira whispered, "Integration into... what?"

Albert looked over his shoulder.

"Into Atlas’s plans."