The interior of the Leviathan was a living, breathing labyrinth.The squad moved in a tight tactical wedge, navigating the winding, muscular corridors of the Hive Ship's outer dermal layer. The environment was oppressive. The air was suffocatingly hot, thick with toxic spores that hissed harmlessly against the sealed visors of their Vanguard helmets. Above them, thick, translucent veins pulsed with sickly green bioluminescence, casting long, moving shadows that played tricks on the eyes.Every step required conscious effort. The floor was spongy, composed of fibrous tissue that seemed to subtly grip the soles of their combat boots. And beneath it all was the heartbeat—a deep, low-frequency thrum that vibrated through the marrow of their bones.Cyrus took the point, the thirty-pound tungsten-carbide rod held loosely at his side. He didn't rely on the tactical lights of the Ash Walkers behind him; his enhanced perception cut through the gloom, hyper-attuned to the subtle shifts in the b

Sergeant Rael twisted the hardened decryption spike deeper into the exposed nerve cluster. He didn't enter a code; he transmitted a localized bio-electrical surge. The massive, pulsing membrane sealing Tier Three didn't slide open like a mechanical door. It convulsed, the thick tissue tearing down the center with a wet, sickening sound, peeling back to reveal the inner sanctum of the Leviathan.The heat that rolled out of the chamber was stifling, carrying the heavy scent of ozone and copper."Move," Rael ordered, withdrawing the spike and raising his Vanguard sidearm with his functional right hand.Cyrus stepped through the torn membrane first, the heavy thirty-pound tungsten-carbide rod held in a ready grip. The four Ash Walkers fanned out behind him, their kinetic rifles raised, sweeping the massive chamber with the beams of their tactical lights.They had reached the Neural Apex.The chamber was entirely spherical, lacking the skeletal pillars or fibrous tunnels of the upper decks

The flight back to the Dauntless was agonizingly quiet.Inside the pressurized cabin of the Vanguard interceptor, the adrenaline that had fueled their desperate escape finally began to ebb, leaving behind a profound, hollow exhaustion. The only sounds were the steady hum of the sub-light engines and the ragged breathing of the survivors.Cyrus remained seated on the cold titanium deck, his back resting against the bulkhead. His eyes were closed, but sleep was impossible. The thermal burn on his ribs throbbed with a dull, vicious heat, a persistent reminder of the Praetorian’s glaive. He kept his right hand resting loosely over the wound, his left gripping the familiar, heavy shaft of the thirty-pound tungsten-carbide rod.Across the bay, the four Ash Walkers sat slumped in the crash webbing. Their pristine matte-black armor was scorched, gouged, and painted with the acidic, dark fluid of the Leviathan. They didn't speak. They simply stared at the deck, processing the sheer scale of th

Hangar Bay Three was a ghost town compared to the chaotic triage center they had just left. It was a restricted launch deck, reserved exclusively for Vanguard black-ops and reconnaissance insertions. There were no burning strike fighters here, no shouts for medics, and no frantic mobilization of heavily armed marines.There was only the prowler-class corvette, resting silently on the central launch pad.Cyrus walked toward it, his boots echoing sharply against the pristine ferrocrete. The prowler was a masterclass in stealth engineering. Unlike the bulky, heavily armored Vanguard drop pods or the jagged, blocky strike fighters, the corvette was sleek and angular, coated in a sensor-absorbent, matte-black composite that seemed to drink the ambient light of the hangar. It had no visible weapon hardpoints and no massive primary thrusters, relying instead on a series of baffled, low-emission ion drives.It looked less like a spaceship and more like a shadow cast against the deck.Sergeant

The absolute silence of the vacuum made the impending violence feel entirely surreal.Cyrus stood anchored to the surface of the rogue asteroid, his magnetic boots locked firmly onto a jagged vein of raw iron ore. At his feet, the Vanguard seismic charge pulsed with a steady, rhythmic red light, nestled deep within the thermal fault line.Above him, the violet cosmic dust parted as the four Othari void-skimmers initiated their dive.They moved with a terrifying, fluid grace, their black, membranous wings folded tightly against their sleek bodies to maximize their descent speed. Riding the highly charged electromagnetic currents of the Tenebris Veil, they accelerated like organic missiles, extending their razor-sharp chitinous scythes for the kill."Nine minutes, thirty seconds," Sergeant Rael’s voice crackled in Cyrus's ear, sharp and focused from the cockpit of the prowler two miles away. "They are trying to draw you off the charge. Hold your ground."Cyrus didn't need the warning. H