Snake sat down for a moment, thinking about his next move. So far, he'd cleared the first, second, and third floors, and had found nothing. There were barely any clues to this organization's identity, none of the prisoners had been found, and the sun would be coming up in a couple hours. Sure, he still had time, Snake noted checking the watch on his arm. But he also had twelve more floors to cover, with an unknown number of guards.

There really wasn't that much of a choice though. Even with all the unknowns, Snake still had to keep moving forward. So quickly checking over the last of the area, he stood back up and walked over to the stairwell he came from. From there he sneakily walked up to the fourth floor. Pushing the door open just a crack, Snake looked in. From his current angle, he could see a large desk sitting in the middle of the room.

As well as several wide-open areas with green screens and bits of furniture. If he had to guess, he'd say he found a newsroom. He also spotted a few smaller rooms breaking the area apart. Very quietly, he could also hear voices talking inside, possibly three different people. He couldn't hear what they were saying though, only where it was coming from.

"Nagant," Snake began, "You see anyone on the third floor?"

"No, the main window I'm looking through only shows a conference room," she replied. Quietly sighing, Snake moved into the newsroom. The room itself was a chaotic mess, as Snake ducked behind knocked-over desks and fallen camera equipment. It only became more present as he kept moving forward. Soon enough he arrived at one of the smaller rooms on the floor. Opening its door, he found it to be the conference room Nagant was talking about. Finding nothing important he stepped back, but left the door open just in case.

Moving over to the next room, he heard the voices from earlier. Peeking through the door he found it to be a recording studio and spotted three guards. The guards are lounging in the room, facing a TV on the wall. One had a mutant quirk, with the guard resembling a bipedal shark, another had some kind of light quirk, with the gun in their hand glowing and dimming, and the final guard had some telekinetic quirk, if the bullets floating into an open magazine were anything to go by.

Silently Snake pushed the door open and entered, now hearing what they were discussing.

"-ere the hell does he get off? Making me carry a bunch of fucking boxes like a delivery man." the guard with the light quirk complained, now dubbed as Light.

"Can you shut up for five minutes?" the telekinetic guard muttered quietly, it being present how tired the man was. Snake quietly noted him as Tele for the time being.

"He's got a point," the shark man stated, "Bossman said this was a security gig, not carrying whatever the hell was in those crates."

"Yeah, now that I think about it, what were we even carrying?" Light asked as he stopped messing with his quirk. Unaware by all, Snake had slowly crawled over to them. Yet he waited as they began talking, hoping to get some sort of info.

"Whatever it was, it was damn heavy. Mine had to be several hundred pounds." Shark explained, leaning back into a rather large chair.

"Really?" Light inquired, "Mine felt pretty light, must have given you the heavy stuff."

"Can the two of you, shut up?" Tele muttered again, rubbing his brow with one hand.

"Oh, my apologies sleeping beauty," Shark mocked, to which a small coffee cup was levitated and thrown at the guard's head. It shattered against him harmlessly, and Shark turned away uncaring. That was until he heard Tele mutter under his breath.

"Damn mutie."

In the few seconds Snake had, he pulled out a cardboard box and ducked underneath it. Just as he did so Shark whipped around, a distinct look of hidden anger on his face.

"Sorry, you mind saying that again?" he asked, malice lacing every word. Now Light couldn't tell if Tele was suicidal, insane, or too tired to realize his actions, but he thought it wise to duck behind his chair.

"You can't hear, talk too damn much, and you have that ugly mug for a face. Then again, I should have expected this from a mutie." Tele replied as objects around him began to float. At the same time, Shark snarled and clenched his hands into fists. Quietly Snake watched the scene escalate. He pondered if intervening at the moment would be wise. On the one hand, if it escalated any further then the entire building would be put on alert. On the other, it risked possibly exposing himself and having the guards' anger redirected towards him.

And he wasn't in the mood to be shark bait. The decision was made for him though when a table was thrown at Shark. It missed but impaled itself in the wall hard enough for the room to shake. So, planning quickly Snake threw off the cardboard box with his pistol drawn. In a quick motion unnoticed by the furious guards, he shot a tranquilizer round at Light. It knocked the guard out instantly, with Snake then aiming at Tele. The man himself was too angry to notice his fallen ally, instead focused on throwing a filing cabinet at Shark.

So, Snake pulled the trigger, knocking Tele out as well. However, that now drew Shark's attention. The large guard was confused for a moment, overcoming his brief rage, before he spotted Snake. The guard reached for his radio, while Snake fired every round he had. None affected the mutant as he shielded himself with a nearby chair, so Snake charged him. Drawing his knife, he threw it at Shark's hand.

The guard moved quickly, pulling his hand away at the right moment. The knife missed his hand but collided with the guard's radio. It was flung into the wall behind Shark, with the knife held to the radio on the wall. With the radio dealt with Snake ejected his pistol's magazine, quickly loading another. Shark not standing idle, charged Snake. With one fluid motion, he grabbed Snake by the neck and hoisted him into the air. Struggling, Snake moved to fire his pistol, only for Shark to yank it out of his hands.

It was then crushed into a fine paste, while Snake continued to struggle. He lifted his legs up before wrapping them around Shark's arm. Once done he threw all his weight into flipping the mutant. Caught off guard and off balance, Shark found himself falling and his grip on Snake loosening. It was just enough to break free and switch to his M4.

Bringing it up he found Shark moving to stand back up, only to have his knees shot out in quick succession. He fell back to the ground then, with Snake now walking over to him. He stayed out of arms reach, but close enough to inspect Shark's person. Finding no hidden weapon or communications, Snake aimed his M4 at Shark's head.

"I've got questions, and you're going to answer them, understood?" Snake began. Shark remained quiet for a moment, turning his head to look at the barrel pointing at him.

"I'll talk," Shark stated.

"Good, those crates you and your buddies were talking about, where did you take them?" Snake demanded.

"Fifteenth floor," Shark replied, leaving Snake confused. The stairs only went to the fourteenth floor, and he assumed the elevator was similar. He could be wrong of course, but best to be sure.

"You take the elevator?" he asked, to which Shark shook his head no.

"Secret entrance, it's a small spot hidden in a janitorial closet on the fourteenth floor," he explained, leaving Snake even more confused. What were they carrying, if the entire fifteenth floor needed to be cut off?

"Anyone on the fourteenth floor?"

"Not that I know of." Shark replied, "The last of the guys up there should be in the security room, but that's on the thirteenth floor."

Snake thought over the information for a moment, before walking up and slamming the butt of his M4 into Shark. With the mutant unconscious Snake proceeded to zip-tie him and the other guards in the room. Once done he hid them under what furniture he could find and left the recording studio. All the while he activated his codec and kept an eye out around the halls.

"Nagant, can you see anything on the fifteenth floor?" Snake asked.

"Not at the moment," She replied, "I'll have to reposition to get a clear look."

"Call me when you do, a couple of guards down here took something of interest there," Snake explained.

"Any indication of what it is?" Nagant asked.

"None, not even the guards know," Snake answered.

"Great," she remarked sarcastically, "I'll report back in a minute."

The codec went silent then, as Snake reentered the stairwell. With a tired sigh, he made his ascent. It was a long dubious process, with every floor looking the exact same. He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but the floors lacked any distinct markings. The only clue that he was getting somewhere was his mental count. He checked his watch when he arrived at the tenth floor. The op had started pretty late into the night, and it had been a few hours since they started.

Realizing what little time was left until daybreak, Snake quickened his pace reaching the thirteenth floor. Taking a minute, his codec rang as Nagant called.

"The fifteenth floor is completely boarded up," Nagant stated.

"What about the floors below?" Snake asked.

"The fourteenth floor is completely empty. Nothing but wide-open space and a small janitor's closet. The thirteenth floor is harder to tell, but I think eight guards. I don't know about the room in the center though," Nagant answered to which Snake peered into the room. The floor branched off into several areas, but most had large windows displaying the interior. Except for the room in the center, Snake suspected that to be the security room. This would be difficult, especially without his pistol.

"Do you have a shot on any of the guards?"

"I do, but they'll hear the window shatter," Nagant answered before pausing for a moment.

"Boss, permission to fire?" Nagant asked as Snake closed the door to the stairwell, hiding behind its concrete wall.

"Granted," Snake replied. The seconds after the word left his mouth, the sound of glass shattering was heard. A few moments later, he could hear eight distinct thuds in the next room, all in quick succession. Opening the door back up, he found the guards unconscious on the floor. Wasting no time he went over to the enclosed room, before quietly opening the door. Inside was a set of screens linked to security cameras. Though there were only a dozen of them, and most were on the fourteenth floor.

It made some sense; one would want a supposedly secret entrance to be under surveillance. Lest someone stumble upon it by accident. But it also left the rest of the building unprotected. It was suspicious, but Snake didn't have time to think it over. After all, everything about this building was suspicious. The first floor had a bunch of fake doors that served no purpose. The second was nothing but one giant office, with no other rooms or halls or anything. And now the fourteenth floor was empty of everything.

It was chaotic, and nothing about it made sense. So, Snake decided to try and make sense of it. He switched the screens over to previous security footage, going over anything in the last few hours. The only working camera on the first floor showed the prisoners being hauled off in several trucks, just as the first guard said. At the same time, he spotted the other three carrying large crates up the stairs. Switching over to the fourteenth floor's feed he watched the guards enter the closet and paused the feed.

Examining the crates closer, he could see wires in some of them, but nothing distinguishing. Unpausing the feed a few minutes later the guards left the closet crates no longer in hand. It left Snake worried about what lay ahead. It might be a bomb. That was his first assumption. But he didn't know. Whatever was on the fifteenth floor had the answer. So, he shut down the security cameras and walked back out to the stairwell. With a deep breath, he climbed up to the fourteenth floor and entered.

His M4 was drawn all the while, with Snake eyeing every corner of the empty room. Reaching the closet, he opened the door with little difficulty. Inside was a small ladder, with a hatch at the top. Carefully Snake climbed up, ensuring the hatch wouldn't slam shut the moment he was there. When he stepped foot onto the floor, his questions were replaced with new ones. Every inch of the floor's walls had been covered in TV screens. Hundreds of them laced the entire area, along with three crates resting solely in the middle of the room. On top of the crates rested a letter.

Wary, Snake approached it. It was a crisp white with gold and pink lament lacing its outskirts. It was sealed shut with a glob of pink wax, with the logo of a top hat and cane. For a moment Snake hesitated before the TV screens turned on. Whipping his M4 around Snake saw the TVs forming words. Welcome. Congratulations. Open it. Carefully Snake did so, reaching out and grabbing the letter. Tearing it open, he pulled out a small business card. The same top hat and cane logo was on the front, as on the letter. But the company information was scratched out, replaced by a long message.

Congratulations! You have been cordially invited to the event of a lifetime! A show so grand the fun will kill you! While I would have loved to give it to you in person, I thought a test was needed before bringing you on. For that, I give you The Ascent! The beginning of a new attraction that has been officially tested by YOU. Something I assume you did flawlessly if you're reading this. But what is a game without a prize! In the room with you should be three crates! Pick whichever one you want, but only one. So, enjoy the gift, and I look forward to your performance!

Snake wanted to tear the letter up then and there. Reluctantly he looked over to the crates, as the screens shifted over to the words "Choose one". There wasn't much he could do to differentiate them. For all he knew the crates were rigged to blow. Choosing nothing seemed like the best option, that was until the screens shifted again. The words changed to a countdown. It left him with little time, as Snake rushed back over to the hatch in the floor. Dropping through it he slammed the hatch shut, just as the floor above detonated.

Snake could feel the heat from the hatch, the floor most likely on fire. The entire building should have heard the detonation, but at this point, it didn't matter. Nothing was here, and the only way he'd be able to claim his "Prize" would be digging in the ashes.

"They're not firing," Zebra noted aloud. Sure enough, nothing was happening. It left Bison confused. For the last hour, the MSF had been advancing toward Mgbaba with a large amount of armor. It was a third of the MSF's manpower on the continent, all concentrated on this assault. And nothing was happening. No enemy artillery, no minefields, not even a lone squad.

"Where the hell are they?" Lion asked, as the Abrams kept driving.

"Beats me," Rhino muttered, looking over at Bison, "Anything sir?"

"Nothing on the drone I'm afraid," Bison replied. The drone's feed displayed burnt-out suburbs so far. That and lots of destroyed vehicles, corpses, and craters. He held up the controls then, displaying them towards Rhino.

"Damn," was all Rhino said, before turning back to his station. It was strange to see this much destruction and not a single enemy. It was worrying, especially when the drone showed a lack of civilian presence. Bison decided to bring the drone back then, to make sure it would have enough charge once they finally encountered the enemy. The quietness itself though was unnerving.

The entire war in Africa had been nonstop action on all fronts, they always had something to do, with an enemy to fight. But now they had to sit and wait, pondering over when the fight was going to occur.

"Think they're out of ammo sir?" Zebra asked, to which Bison shook his head no.

"Outta landmines maybe," Bison stated, recounting their surprising lack so far, "But I doubt they've run out of shells."

"What then, think they pulled back?" Zebra inquired, looking away from the gun's cameras.

"No, reports said the enemy had been fortifying this area for months. If not against us then their rival in the area," Bison answered, "Besides, command said resistance would be scarce, not nonexistent."

Zebra simply nodded, returning his gaze back to the gun's cameras. For a moment the tank went quiet before Zebra spoke up again.

"Enemy combatant, seventy meters." he stated calmly, "They're not moving."

Bison looked through the tank's cameras then, spotting what Zebra was referring to. He redirected the drone then, sending it over to inspect the enemy. It was a grizzly sight, the militant's eyes were stark red and heavily irritated, and his hands were placed near his throat. The man seemed to have suffocated. It was then that some strong smell hit his nose, catching Bison off guard. He could only describe the smell like bleach. Bison's eyes widened as the thought struck his mind.

He quickly grabbed his radio before addressing his crew.

"Lion back the tank up, Zebra, Rhino check if the hatches are sealed!" He ordered, leaving the crew confused. They acted quickly though as Bison felt the tank moving in reverse.

"Command this is Prospector 1-1, we've found the possibility of chemical weapons on the field," Bison stated. It was silent for only a few seconds before command responded.

"Understood Prospector, do you have eyes on a low cloud?" Command asked while Bison turned back over to the drone.

"Negative," Bison answered.

"What does it smell like?"

"Bleach,"

"Possibly chlorine gas. Change of plans, I want your company to pull back three miles. The assault's off."

"Understood."

Ocelot looked at the corpse in front of him fiercely. Cops surrounded the area with dozens of civilians being ushered away. Heroes lined the streets as well, putting out the flaming car the now-dead HPSC representative had been driving. Ocelot couldn't care less for the man… woman… whatever this scorched beyond-recognition person was. But it couldn't help but bring a bit of curiosity. Reps had been dropping like flies recently and at an astonishingly fast rate.

No one was sure of the culprit, but the higher-ups suspected the MSF. Ocelot knew otherwise of course, yet that didn't seem to help him. Especially once the fire had been put out. By the looks of it, a bomb had been planted on the undercarriage and set off via a timer. They had no DNA, no fingerprints, and no knowledge of when the bomb was set up. It puzzled even the police surrounding Ocelot. And then Ocelot heard a low whistle behind him.

"Heard from a little birdie you were here, seems I was right," Hawks commented, flying above Ocelot. Unbeknownst to everyone around him, Ocelot grimaced. There were many people in the HPSC he had to deal with to maintain his cover. He hated few but most he didn't care about. But Hawks? Hawks was the only one he feared. It was invisible to the public, but Ocelot could see what the hero really was. How could he not, it was like looking in a damn mirror. The smug smile, cocky attitude, the manipulative side hidden beneath charm, resembled a younger him perfectly.

Ocelot couldn't tell what Hawks was thinking, and that kept him on edge. If anyone could root him out, it was Hawks. So, Ocelot kept his intentions hidden, barely looking over at the hero.

"So, you did, aren't you supposed to be in Fukuoka?" Ocelot retorted. Hawks lazily drifted downwards in response; his wings positioned to make him fall like a leaf.

"Got bored, besides President's orders," Hawks replied, with his feet now touching the ground.

"Find anything interesting?" Hawks asked, with Ocelot shaking his head no.

"We're waiting for DNA confirmation on the victim. Might give us some clue on who our mysterious rep is." Ocelot answered, pulling out one of his revolvers. He spun it around his finger, continuing to inspect the burnt-out car. It had all the standards that the HPSC issued its reps. Tinted windows, reinforced frames, thicker glass, the works. It didn't give any clue as to who it was though. Out of the corner of his eye though, Ocelot spotted something.

It was a burnt-up toy of some hero he didn't recognize. It was rather big and puffy, giving some clue as to its identity.

"Any idea what the plush is?" Ocelot asked grabbing it with a gloved hand. He held it out to Hawks then, before shaking off some soot.

"Hmm, assuming it's a hero I'd say Fatgum." Hawks noted, "His agency did start selling those jumbo toys recently."

"How recently?"

"Beats me, maybe one or two days. Why, you want one?" Hawks teased to which Ocelot had to hold himself from rolling his eyes. Silently Ocelot went over what reps had an admiration for Fatgum and eliminated them from the list. That was until he remembered one rep discussing his son's birthday. He couldn't remember the name at the moment but that alone gave some picture.

The rep stopped to buy a plush from a store, leaving his car unattended. This being a new toy, would mean it would be in high demand. Meaning a long wait and ample time for the perpetrator to set up the bomb. All he needed was the store's location.

"Yes actually," Ocelot replied, his own smug grin gracing his face, "Know where I can get one?"