Kaelen’s hands were shaking so violently that he dropped the aether-comm device twice before he could finally press the activation rune. The small brass instrument sparked weakly, emitting a pathetic hiss of static before dying completely. The old sweeper cursed, slapping the device against his palm, but the warped aether radiating from the crater below had completely jammed the frequency. The Vanguard Corps was not coming. Not today. Not yet. Eilan stood at the edge of the crystal bridge, his eyes locked on the pale, writhing ribbon of spores drifting upward through the fog. His mind raced through a dozen different scenarios, all of them ending in the slaughter of everyone he knew. The village of Nebul was only a few miles away, its ventilation shafts drawing in the upper atmosphere air to keep the subterranean habitats breathable. If that swarm reached the intake valves, the parasites would flood the village. The Vanguard would arrive eventually, but they would arrive to find nothi

The words hung in the cold air of the workshop, echoing not in the physical space of the room but inside the hollow, echoing cavity behind Eilan's eyes. He remained on his knees on the hard stone floor, his chest heaving as he stared down at his right arm. The bandages were still damp, the pale yellowish fluid seeping through the thick cloth, but the arm was perfectly still now. The second heartbeat continued its slow, mocking rhythm, a heavy thump and squirm that vibrated up into his shoulder. Eilan swallowed hard, his throat dry and tasting of copper and fear. He asked the voice what it was, his own voice sounding small and pathetic in the dim light. The response came immediately, flat and devoid of any inflection or warmth. It said its designation was Veltis, a term that translated roughly to the Living Sheath. It explained its primary and only directive with chilling, mathematical precision. It existed to preserve its own life, and because its biological functions were now inextri

The massive Warped lunged forward, its nine foot frame closing the distance in a single, terrifying bound. The rusted metal grating of Platform Seven groaned and buckled under the immense weight of the creature as it landed. The flickering lumen globe above cast erratic, dancing shadows across the monster's pale, translucent flesh. Eilan scrambled backward, his boots slipping on the slick, fog dampened steel. He raised his left hand, gripping the heavy iron pry bar with both hands, his knuckles white with sheer terror. The creature's sensory tendrils whipped through the air, tasting his fear, tracking his frantic movements. It let out a deafening, metallic shriek that vibrated in his teeth and sent a spike of pure agony through his skull. The sound was not just loud, it was a physical force that pressed against his chest, making it hard to breathe. The cold wind of the upper atmosphere howled around them, but it was entirely drowned out by the monstrous noise of the predator.Eilan sw

The massive stone slab groaned, a deep, structural sound that vibrated through Eilan's boots and up into his teeth. His right arm was locked in place, the three foot long bone blade bearing the full, crushing weight of the collapsed plaza ceiling. The corrupted aether within the weapon flared with a blinding, sickly red light, humming with a high frequency vibration that made the air around it shimmer and distort. Eilan's muscles screamed in agony. The mundane flesh of his shoulder and back was tearing under the immense strain, his boots sliding backward across the cracked crystal floor, carving deep white grooves into the stone. He gritted his teeth, a primal growl building in his throat as he fought to keep his arm from buckling. Beneath the shadow of the falling rock, the survivors were frozen in a state of absolute, paralyzing shock. They stared at the pale, translucent flesh of his arm, at the pulsing red veins, and at the jagged, monstrous weapon that was holding up the ceiling

The transport ship touched down on the landing pad of Relay Station Seven with a heavy, metallic thud that vibrated through the soles of Eilan's boots. The massive ramp lowered, hissing as the hydraulic seals released, and the cold, sterile air of the Vanguard forward operating base rushed into the cabin. Eilan was not in the prisoner cage anymore. Lieutenant Vance had deemed his scan inconclusive, downgrading him from a biological threat to a standard contaminated refugee. He was marched out with the rest of the survivors from Nebul, his right arm tucked tightly against his side, the heavy fabric of his jacket hiding the pale, scarred flesh and the dormant parasite beneath. The processing hangar was a cavernous space of white steel and blinding lumen globes. Hundreds of refugees sat on long metal benches, waiting for medical checks and reassignment. The air smelled of ozone, antiseptic, and the sour sweat of terrified people. Armed guards in pristine white armor patrolled the catwal