On the frozen landscape of Zenith, Locke and Big D surveilled the Nexus communications building. The blizzard howled around them, its icy breath piercing down to their bones. The center was a small, angular structure—its steel walls gleaming faintly through the storm. Towers bristling with antennae jutted into the sky, their blinking lights barely visible through the snow.

  Revenants patrolled the perimeter, their servos whirring faintly. Glowing optics cut through the darkness like ghostly beacons.

  “Why are we here again?” Locke asked adjusting his scarf, his teeth chattering.

  Big D chuckled while his gaze remained focused on the complex.

  “You need me to fetch you a drink?“ he asked. “Maybe throw a little umbrella in it so you can pretend this is a tropical retreat?“

  Locke narrowed his eyes. “It’s not too late to bury you in the snow,” he replied. “They won’t hear you through this storm.”

  Big D smirked but said nothing, his attention drawn to a Revenant that had paused in its patrol. The machine’s head swiveled toward their ridge, its glowing eyes scanning the landscape.

  Locke held his breath, his grip tightening on his rifle.

  After a moment, the Revenant moved on. It disappeared somewhere into the storm. Locke exhaled sharply, his breath a plume of mist.

  “This is our chance,” Big D said, his voice low. “Let’s move.”

  Snow and ice crunched under their feet as they made their way to the transmitter site. Each step felt like an uphill climb as the wind clawed at their faces. They reached the building, pressing their backs against the wall next to the door. Locke raised his rifle, carefully opening it.

  Both of them entered, sweeping their rifles across the interior. It was empty, illuminated only by the dim glow of transmitter racks. Bundles of cables snaked through the walls, leading to the antennae outside.

  Locke scanned the data logs in the main console. The files revealed coordinates, transport logs, and repeated references to “Initiative Alpha”—a phrase neither of them recognized.

  The last entry referenced a lab on Zenith. A facility marked only as “Experimental Site Zeta.”

  Big D leaned over Locke’s shoulder, reading the files. “That looks important.”

  “Give me some space,” Locke muttered, elbowing him. “It points to a lab in the southern quadrant.”

  Big D nodded. “Let’s move. The sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

  As they turned to leave, an alarm wailed through the facility. Locke spun around, raising his rifle as the lights flickered.

  “Looks like we’re not getting out that easy,” he said.

  They took positions on either side of the doorway. Locke equipped his EMP device, holding it tightly in his hand.

  “Looks like this will be our last mission together,” he whispered to it, smirking.

  He cracked the entrance open and tossed the EMP outside. A pulse rippled through the storm. The Revenants outside froze, their optics dimming to black.

  Locke and Big D bolted into the icy wilderness. The storm’s winds tore at their visors, and their boots sank into the snow with every step. Locke paused to catch his breath, wiping frost from his face.

  “This isn’t over,” he said. “We need to reach that site if we’re going to get any real answers.”

  Big D nodded. "Agreed."

  Together, they set off toward the southern quadrant, the storm swallowing them as they disappeared into the frozen expanse.

  >>>>>***********************<<<<<

  Lilyon reviewed the transmission from Castle, surrounded by a team of intelligence officers.

  “I hardly knew him,” she said. “He didn't deserve this.“

  “We can start investigating immediately,” one of them offered. “There are assets—”

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  Lilyon focused her gaze on the officer, clenching her jaw.

  “Don't bother,” Lilyon said. “I know who is responsible.“

  The officers exchanged quizzical glances before returning to Lilyon.

  “Who?“ one spoke up.

  Lilyon didn’t respond. She turned sharply, her boots striking the floor with purpose as she muttered curses under her breath, heading for the command center.

  She stopped before the helm officer, slamming her hand down on the console.

  “Take us here,” —her finger jabbed at a system in the Frontier sector— “I want the fleet hovering over their capital. Immediately.”

  No waiting for a reply, she marched over to one of the tactical officers.

  “Have the Sentinels ready to drop as soon as we get there,” she demanded, her voice seething with rage. “Make sure they understand—this is not a diplomatic mission.“

  The helm officer counted down the jump.

  “Three. Two. One.“

  The Veilbreaker shuddered as the jump reactor hummed to life. Moments later, the Luminarian fleet materialized above the planet, a shadow of power cast across its surface.

  Lilyon stormed through the passages to the launch bay, brushing past formations of Sentinels filing into their dropships. The clink of harnesses echoed through the metal corridors as soldiers secured themselves in place.

  Click.

  The release mechanism hissed, followed by the jolt of the drop sequence initiating. For a moment, she felt weightless—then the roar of engines filled the compartment, shaking her to the core.

  Lilyon gripped the edge of her seat, the cold sweat on her brow a stark contrast to the fire in her veins.

  Outside, the air screamed, compressed to plasma that streaked past the viewport in burning contrails. Inside, the temperature climbed despite the cooling systems.

  The Sentinels sat motionless. Their faces illuminated by the flickering glow of the hull's heat, eyes locked forward in steely focus.

  The cabin bucked violently as turbulence took hold, slamming Lilyon against her harness. A sharp hiss escaped her lips, but she tightened her grip on the edge of the seat, white knuckling it. The engines howled, cutting through the deafening cacophony like a war cry.

  Following a heavy jerk, the heat dissipated. The dropship pierced the lower atmosphere. The roar softened to a dull growl as stability returned.

  Through the viewport, the sprawling capital came into view—a labyrinth of towers and streets cast under the shadow of the descending fleet. The dropship’s thrusters fired, slowing its descent.

  Lilyon unlatched her harness with a swift motion. Her boots hit the deck as the transport jolted, signaling their deployment.

  “Ready yourselves!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the cabin. “No mercy.”

  The bay doors hissed open, exposing the battlefield below. Wind whipped through the cabin, carrying the acrid scent of war. Lilyon stepped forward, the fire in her eyes reflecting the inferno awaiting them.

  They fought through the city streets, the snaps and pops of projectiles piercing into the intricately crafted masonry buildings. The Sentinels steadily advanced, their boots crushing the remains of fallen Eldaran guardsmen as they marched through the city streets.

  Lilyon hailed the Veilbreaker. Moments later, a volley of missiles streaked through the sky, striking buildings where guardsmen had fortified themselves. The explosions erupted in a blinding inferno, stone and fire expanding outward consuming everything in their path.

  She and the Sentinels made their way up the palace steps, its guardians rolling down them with every projectile released from the Sentinel's rifles. Blood slicked the marble as they pressed forward.

  The palace doors exploded inward, the blast’s searing heat igniting the soldiers barricaded behind it. Their screams echoed through the grand hall as flames engulfed them.

  “Let them burn,” Lilyon commanded, signaling the Sentinels to lower their weapons. She walked by them, their screams meaningless in her ears.

  Lilyon strode up to Thalor's chambers. She raised her weapon and blasted the door off its hinges.

  Inside, Thalor cowered behind his opulent bed—his trembling hands raised.

  “Listen, I—” he stammered, his voice shaking.

  Lilyon didn’t hesitate. Her rifle discharged with a sharp crack, his body crumpling to the floor.

  She stood over him and spat. “There’s your war,” her voice cold.

  >>>>>***********************<<<<<

  Aetherveil remained curled up, her body trembling as she wiggled her fingers near her eyes, muttering incoherently. Her hands rubbed over her legs and feet in a restless, ceaseless motion, as though trying to ground herself in a reality slipping away.

  Her neural interface felt like it was melting into her skull. She clawed at it instinctively—her mutterings breaking into a sharp gasp as her eyes clenched shut.

  Her fingers gripped her head in a desperate attempt to quell the burning sensation. Her vision began to blur, crying out—slowly fading away into silence.

  She awakened in a meadow. The wind softly blew across the fields of tall grass, brushing against her skin like a gentle caress. Trees stood along the horizon, with mountains rising beyond them—their peaks gilded by a warm, golden light. Aetherveil let out a shuddering breath as she slowly stood. Her legs wobbled, but she didn’t care. The peace of the meadow washed over her—a stark contrast to what she had left behind.

  She ran her trembling hand over the grass, savoring the sensation as though it might vanish at any moment.

  “It doesn’t matter—” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter if it’s real.”

  A vortex of light formed in front of her, twisting and swirling until it solidified into a humanoid shape.

  “Cryptorax,” she murmured.

  “You deactivated the module,” it said. “Good.”

  Aetherveil took a step forward, her expression both skeptical and curious.

  “How are you here?” she asked.

  She looked around, her gaze sweeping over the construct. “Is this you?”

  Cryptorax moved closer. “You are overwhelmed,” it said, his voice carrying an almost parental gentleness. “That was to be expected.“

  “Do I have to go back?” her voice cracked as she looked past him, toward the distant mountains.

  Cryptorax didn’t respond.

  Instead, it condensed into a ball of light, shrinking rapidly until it exploded outward like a supernova.

  When the light faded, Aetherveil was back in her quarters. The peace of the meadow was gone, replaced by the hum of the ship’s systems. Her chest heaved, tears slipping down her face as she slumped to the floor.

  She clenched her fists, pressing her nails into her palms as though the pain might tether her to something real.