The group's stroll took them straight to Vince's casino resort—the dramatically-titled Hot Constellations Gambling District. Along the way, Rock had shared a relatively straightforward-sounding plan:

- Key and Sheffer were going into the main building (the hotel, also home to Vince's office and other important resort offices and facilities) with him. They'd try to be discreet about getting in, but ultimately rely on brute force if necessary, and just fight it out.
- Ace, Jam, and Caz were to wait at various points outside and around the lobby to watch for (and radio about) any odd security behavior, or the arrival of authorities, then enter the fray and disrupt them in any way possible
- Tau was supposed to enter the resort aerially, and wait on standby near the hotel in case anything went wrong (as his presence would have been too suspicious if he entered normally).
- Getaway plans were vague and situational; scatter, lose any pursuers, then regroup at some restaurant Rock had written down the address for.

A plan that hinged so heavily on improvisation couldn't inspire much confidence, but, without any more information than they had, it was all they could do. Besides that, reports from a few nights ago had confirmed that Vince's security didn't pack much in the way of heat, so opposition was going to be light at best (at least by the standards of a group of people who had just taken out a whole military base).



And so, they eventually arrived at the huge, imposing, artificial-mesa-like structure where the resort property was set atop. Neon was everywhere, lighting up the night sky. It shined through the rain, which had begun to patter down on the trip over. By the time the group's members finished the elevator ride up and set foot on top, in Vince's make-believe city in the sky, they would find themselves getting pelted by chilly water droplets and buffeted by whipping winds. It was a nasty night to be out working, but the crummy weather at least made a nice, noisy backdrop, and might have served to keep unwanted bystanders out of the way.

... Or, it would have.

A monorail ride later, and everyone (sans Tau) found themselves facing the grand fountain in front of the resort's hotel. In addition to the bright lights, there was also a burning fire, and freshly-created smoke pillars climbing up the front of the building. Lights flickered, patrons ran in panic, and security was already crawling all over the place, extinguishers in hand, doing the best they could before until a firetruck could get there. Gunshots rang in the background from somewhere within the hotel lobby, while the lights seemed to perpetually flicker, as if disrupted by something.

Rock stopped in front of the fountain and stared up at the spectacle, absent-mindedly clutching the strap of his duffel with a hand, while the other hung limp at his side. Rainwater ran down his blank face.

"This... wasn't part of the plan."

In case anyone had any doubts, really.

Rock glanced back to the group (composed of everyone except their resident robot, at that point), then forward again. He pulled a small radio off his belt and mashed the button.

"Tau—got any insight on what's goin' on here?"

The so-called possible danger instead came to them. As the group rounded the fountain and approached the concrete walk leading up to the entrance, the glass doors at the front of the hotel exploded into little fragmented bits, their metal fixtures flying far and wide as an entire platoon blasted their way out rushed out and down the stairs like ants spilling out of an anthill. They stopped short, though, keeping their distance at about twenty feet away.

The soldiers would be familiar to some of them. The things were the same type Jam and Rock had encountered at the chemical plant, and that the group had seen in those boxes under Arware-Mistar (albeit more clothed and equipped than the latter, now). The entire force, numbering around fifty and now wearing GUN-emblazoned backpacks and vests, and carrying rifles, swayed unstably in crooked, barely-upright stances. They hardly looked awake with the way they shifted their heads around and gazed emptily around, some staring at the ground immediately in front of their feet, others the sky, and yet others nothing in particular. All the while, they maintained complete silence.

Of course, their "leader," as it were, was soon to exit behind them; the drones parted as the boy strode slowly down the stairs. It was Seven, and he looked just as happy (see: smarmy and asinine) as ever, smirking and grinning to the people waiting outside. He looked largely the same as he had before, save for the substitution of some dark-colored trousers instead of shorts (it was too cold and rainy out). However, there was one thing very different about him this time, something that Jam in particular would be very familiar with: a small, lightning-shaped gem, mounted on a cumbersome-looking electronic wristband on his right arm. It seemed to constantly flicker and spark.

"Oh!" blurted the kid, feigning surprise poorly. "Hey there. I was thinking nobody was even gonna show up!"

There was a hum and crackle from the device on Seven's arm while Sheffer got vocal (see: quite openly called him names), though it was rendered nearly inaudible by the rain.

"Hey. You!" Seven pointed a finger threateningly at the hedgehog, while the little lights on the gauntlet blipped and blinked. "It's rude to talk about people standing right in front of you!"

Without any warning, a strobing, undulating, flashing bolt of electricity instantaneously arced from his arm directly at the hedgehog with a thunderous crack that split the air. For all practical intents and purposes, it was an artificial bolt of lightning. Inconspicuous, largely harmless lasers on his wrist device (those blinking lights) had formed an ionized circuit of air for the charge to follow. The only difference was that it wasn't as ridiculously powerful as real lightning, but the blast alone would still be enough to even rattle the cages of anyone standing too near the hedgehog (particularly unfortunate for Rock).