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Without thinking, Old Seven yanked the alarm trigger at his waist.
Ring—ring—ring—
The first-level alert blared through the base. Old Seven, First Firelord, Nomad, and Flower scrambled back, putting thirty meters between themselves and the elevator. They braced for a fight.
Amon appeared with other members in tow. "What's happening?"
"Possible invasion!" Old Seven's voice cracked. He aimed shaking fingers at the elevator, ready to unleash air bullets.
"Battle stations!" Amon barked. Everyone took position.
Gripping her boomerang, Amon's mind whirred. If it were...
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