And then we see them.
They don’t move like people. They move like predators. Seven feet tall. Gleaming armor, black with acid-green accents that shimmer in the emergency lighting. They stalk the halls like they own them. Soldiers.
Coalition.
I grab Marla’s arm, yanking her behind a partition. We press ourselves flat against the wall as two of the monsters pass.
“They’re inside,” Marla breathes.
“No kidding.”
They’re not just shooting. They’reclearing. Precision strikes. Vibroblades for close work. I catch sight of one dragging a body out of a lift and casually tossing it aside like trash.
Commander Vris.
I know that limp, cocky stride anywhere. He’s trying to rally a group of security officers, half-suited and panicked.
He doesn’t stand a chance.
One of them steps forward. A flicker of movement—a blade flashes—and Vris folds like paper. He drops to his knees, hands pressed to the wound in his gut. Blood spatters the wall.
I want to scream. I want to move.
I do neither.
Marla clutches my sleeve. Her eyes are wide, lips pressed shut like she’s holding in a sob. I grab her hand and tug her downa maintenance shaft—one of the old ones. Forgotten. My boots clatter too loud, but there’s no time for subtlety.
We drop into the crawlspace, chest to floor. I twist the valve behind me, sealing the panel. Darkness presses in. I can’t hear anything but my own breath rasping loud inside my helmet.
Footsteps.
Thick. Heavy. Measured.
They’re looking.
A grate creaks. Light slants in.
And he’s there.
The lizardman.
He doesn’t charge. Doesn’t attack.
He looks straight at me.
And for a heartbeat… the worldstops.
Not figuratively.Literally.Time distorts. My vision narrows. His red eyes bore into mine—not with rage, not with malice. With something else. Something deeper. Older.
I feel it slam into my chest like a gravity surge.
My skin tingles. My mouth goes dry. My body reacts before my brain catches up. Every nerve lights up with recognition I can’t explain.
My breath catches. His does too.
He stares.
Just like that—he’s gone.
