True, he hadn’t tested out his low-yield nukes, his eaters, his disruption cannon, or any of the 3,124 other weapons at his disposal.
But he didn’t have to – his examination of the wall’s atomic structure, especially at the missiles’ impact site, supported his theory: Nothing was getting through these walls.
Anything short of black hole would have no effect, and even a black hole was iffy.
Made of some type of superdense material Trak had never encountered before, the walls were stronger yet somehow lighter than his own practically invulnerable body.
The thought made Trak giddy.
Because in addition to being indestructible, the place seemed to be empty of life.
There was no living thing for about 100 miles.
He had asked the Tour Guide, and the Aye confirmed his theory: Yes, it said, this section of Containment Facility One is completely uninhabited.
If he had a human mouth, Trak would have smiled.
Because he could now use any of his weapons and do no harm.
It had been 10 years since Trak had been able to do that.
His one safeguard – for which he was thankful everyday – made it so he could only use his arsenal when he was 100 percent certain no sentient life would be harmed.
It had been too risky to use them at Humbolt Sector Hospital, and the Afterthought's tiny quarters didn’t make the cut.