The control center lay quiet in the warm haze of afternoon. Glimmering consoles pulsed with low spikes of light, their displays half-dimmed. Slatted shadows stretched across the ancient walls, cast by a single shaft of sunlight cutting through the high dome’s narrow skylight. The dust swirled in it like pollen, drifting with slow purpose.
A table had been cleared of schematics and ration wrappers. Around it sat the last remnants of their unity.
Jaxon Hurst leaned in, the servo in his shoulder ticking faintly beneath his coat.
“I’m asking,” he growled, “if it’s safe to wake her up.”
Across from him, Elara remained still, fingertips steepled. Her violet eyes shimmered under the glow.
“No clue. Forcing her out might do more harm than good.” Her voice was quiet, serene, but beneath it, something simmered.
Jaxon exhaled through his nose. “So we wait.”
Before anyone could respond, Thalyn’s eyes opened.
She didn’t gasp or startle, only blinked slowly, as if surfacing from great depth. Wonder flickered in her gaze.
Then she moved.
She rose from the ground like a shadow peeled from stone, with none of the stiffness that once haunted her. Grace flowed through her limbs like remembered music, the fluid power of her Elder-forged form still new, still intoxicating.
She stepped toward the table, silent as breath. The others watched, Korr half-risen from his chair.
“I saw it,” Thalyn said. “It worked. Your message, it reached me.”
Korr’s expression twisted in triumph. “Yes…”
“But…” she added, “I thought it was a dream. A woman I didn’t know. Warning me. It felt urgent, but when I woke, the message itself was… gone. Like smoke.”
Korr opened his mouth, then shut it again.
The air in the room sagged. Anticipation turned bittersweet.
“So,” Jaxon said, “it’s not just a memory dump.”
“No,” Thalyn replied, eyes distant. “More than that. But it’s like shouting across a canyon. You hear something. Not the words.”
“Alright, we’re done here,” Jaxon stood, grabbing his gear. “Let’s go.”
“After a meal,” Elara said softly.
He hesitated. Then grunted. “Fine. One last feast.”
Thalyn turned back to the throne. She picked up the crown and lowered it gently to her brow. It accepted her touch like it had been waiting. Deep within the walls, a signal stirred.
The droids glided in without fanfare. Platters emerged, delicate and gleaming, fruit that glowed faintly from within, spiral-root loaves still steaming, spiced meat curled into coils. Upstairs, light warmed the table like sunset on an altar.
They ate slowly. Reverently.
Elara sighed after her first bite. “I’ll miss this,” she murmured. “Food like… Richer each time.”
Jaxon nodded. Korr only closed his eyes in bliss.
“Time,” Jaxon said after a while, setting his cup down. “If the sphere holds and the beasts don’t bother us, we hit Revantis before nightfall.”
“And if it doesn’t?” Elara asked.
Thalyn met her gaze. “Then we come back.”
Down below, they moved with practiced speed. The droids cleared the remnants of the meal with mechanical grace.
Thalyn knelt, opened her satchel, and retrieved the sphere. It pulsed faintly in her palm, warm, alive, and dreaming. She showed it to them briefly, then slid it into a waist pouch lined with reinforced fiber.
Masks sealed. Filters hissed. They crossed the shimmering doorway. The air shuddered as the barrier let them through, an invisible ripple of pressure and silence.
Outside, the clearing glistened with mist and fractured light. The fallen beast was already half-consumed, moss veiled its wounds, vines curled through cracked bone, nature pulling it back into the fold. Roots pulsed with digestion.
They circled the remains in silence, advancing toward the treeline. Shattered trunks lay like broken ribs, remnants of the battle carved into the land.
They pressed deeper.
Underfoot, the ground turned spongey with rot and scattered bone. Ferns bowed aside as they passed. Insects clicked warily, then flew away.
The jungle thickened, then parted. And there it was.
A MBerthorne tree.
Not a tree. A continent rising into sky, bark dark as void, ribbed like armor, veined with scars of age. Its roots had collapsed entire sections of jungle, folding and coiling like tectonic musculature.
Once, this trek felt like walking into a trap.
Now… it felt different. No stalkers in the canopy. No talons in the sky. Just silence.
Look closely and yes, shapes moved out there, vague silhouettes scattering away through the fog, peeling back from their path. Nothing dared come near.
Elara whispered, “Do you feel that?”
They all did. Even the mist seemed to draw back.
Korr murmured, “They flee. Everything flees.”
Then came the roar. Low and layered, it rolled through the jungle like planet clearing its throat.
A shape hurtled toward them from the front: a Nether beast, massive, broken-horned, crashing through the undergrowth in blind panic.
It saw them and veered away. Fled.
Jaxon lifted his rifle, baffled. “What in the…”
Another form exploded from the trees.
A huge Netherspawn. Its chitinous hide glistened with slime and rot, fungal blooms growing in old wounds. A massive beast, eyes smoking black and gold, jaws weeping toxin.
It skidded to a halt. Stared. Pawed the soil. Then it roared. A sound of fury and confusion. And charged.
“Move!” Jaxon shouted.
They dove behind a gnarled root the size of a transport truck. The ground shook as the creature slammed into it, disoriented, perhaps, by the sphere’s influence. But it didn’t stop. It struck again. And again.
Foam frothed from its mouth. It thrashed and pounded the ground, as if challenging whatever power dared bar its path.
“Why isn’t it retreating?!” Elara hissed.
“Maybe, it can’t think straight!” Korr shouted. “Senses the artifact but doesn’t understand it!”
Another charge. This time its claws tore the root edge, hurling splinters and earth into the air. Jaxon pulled Elara back as the soil gave way. Korr nearly slipped.
Thalyn didn’t think. She moved.
One leap and she landed atop the root, knees bent, body absorbing the shock with uncanny fluidity. Her mind screamed that she couldn’t make that jump, but her body had already done it.
She sprinted forward, caught the beast’s gaze. She rolled beneath a swiping claw, bounced from the root, hurled a flash grenade.
It struck the beast full in the face. Blinding light. A howl like grinding stone.
Jaxon surged up, the servo in his arm whining as he raised his rifle. He fired point-blank. The shots cracked through the mist, and the rounds slammed into the beast’s side with meaty thuds.
It screamed, reeled, and then crashed aside.
“Run!” Thalyn shouted, her voice hoarse.
And then, a glint of something in the haze. Metal. Reinforced doorway embedded in the base of the MBerthorne. Salvation.
“Kaelen outpost,” Jaxon breathed. “We’ve got a shot.”
The outpost hatch was embedded beneath the bark, armored and half-covered in lichen, but not locked. They forced it open. The roar behind them spiked into rage as the beast surged once more.
Thalyn shoved the others through. Jaxon brought up the rear, slamming the door just as the monster's claws scraped metal.
Inside, darkness. The cool hush of ancient wood and machine.
They slumped to the floor, breathing hard.
The beast growled once more outside… then stilled. It didn’t leave. But it didn’t try again.
Jaxon turned to Thalyn. “Hell of a move.”
She nodded. Her hands trembled, not from fear. From awe. Her body had danced with death and triumphed.
They didn’t speak as they began the long ascent. The stairway spiraled endlessly. Stone-hard bark underfoot. Abandoned supply rooms passed in silence. Higher and higher, until the air thinned and cleared.
At last, they reached the cottage. A hollow carved into the trunk at the base of a branch the width of a city avenue. Hooks. Hammocks. A stove with stone burn marks. Dust like a second skin.
Thalyn opened the outer hatch, let clean air in. The sky was a braid of stars.
She pulled off her mask and breathed deep. Cold, sweet air. This was her world. Home.
They laid out mats. They would rest here. They had to.
Thalyn disappeared into the dark for a while. Returned dragging two small creatures with iridescent tail fronds.27Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8kzSwUTOu1
They roasted quickly. Tasted like pepperroot and charred nut-oil. Even Jaxon went back for seconds.
The old rain tank held just enough, filtered, metallic, stale, but drinkable.
And for the first time in days, no one spoke of monsters, death, or Elder machines. Just food, quiet, and stars.
Eventually, they drifted off.
Only Jaxon remained by the door, eyes scanning the stars. His metal hand rested lightly on his lap.
Thalyn lay back on her mat, watching the rafters.
Arvie’s voice whispered into her mind.
“Not bad, warbird. You pirouetted that thing like a drunk at a zero-G rave.”
Thalyn smiled. Tomorrow would be war again, but tonight, the stars still sang.
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