The tram ride was short, even if it was from a building several miles away; Abaddon had it built specifically to his own specifications. Unless they were wearing one of his power armors, no one else could ride that tram without receiving harm to their person.
Good thing he’s invulnerable then.
The doors opened, and he strode through, adamantine boots echoing loudly throughout the underground bay, drowned out by the sound of buzzing activity; Engineers prepping soldiers in their armor, checking the multi-copters for any discrepancies, running through final checks.
A mental command to the suit opened up the helmet to the air, Abaddon’s heavy boot steps echoing louder as he practically stomped his way towards Devereux. The second-in-command turned around, noticing Abaddon and straightening up immediately.
“Sir, I was just finishing the final preparations for your Mec suit. 100 percent functionality.” Devereux looked up from his tablet, masking his worry well, but not well enough. “You should be able to handle that...hero, boss.”
Abaddon remained silent, for a moment, his helmet betraying no emotion. Then, his voice rang out, calm and composed; “Lets get these birds in the air! We’re air dropping into that base, so make sure your gear is up to par!”
The men lined up, eager to get into the field, having been briefed on the plan ahead of time, but still listening to Abaddon run through it again; hit the base, eliminate resistance, observe any heroes entering the premises, and retrieve the device located within the base.
Satisfied that his men knew what to do, Abaddon let them board their multi-copter, while he rode within the Mec being transported by the second one.
Quietly, to no one in particular, Alistair whispered under his breath;
“Lets bait out a hero, shall we?”
