Aaron, Maverick, and Cleo stood at what used to be the entrance to a structure, broken concrete framing the gutted opening.

  Nera and Karauro leaned against the remaining pillars ahead of them, armor catching the dull ruin-light.

  Aaron: Guess it's a good thing you tagged along, mutt, or else we'd already be dancing with flying corpses.

  Karauro stayed silent, jaw clenched as he watched faint light glimmer along the swarmers pincers. They buzzed around the fleshy, pus-like walls that had overgrown the building’s exterior.

  The car-sized Grievers crawled across the meat-slick surface, supported by pointed insect legs and a softly glowing red carapace. Their skull-like faces were studded with greenish-yellow eyes and huge mandibles that clicked in anticipation. Wasp-like wings twitched at their backs, sharp arms flexed, and bladed tails swayed behind them.

  Nera: Taron, get the other hauler. Roy, man the turret. Riven, drive your hauler for a flanking maneuver with Ilene on the turret too. If anything moves, take it out while we rig the explosives to collapse the hive.

  The comms cut, and Unit 7 moved at once.

  They broke formation and surged into position around the Hive. Swarmers twitched their heads in jagged unison, sensing Unit 7’s movement. A dozen shrill screeches tore out from the openings of their skull-like mouths as stingers uncoiled, menacing the air in front of them.

  Blue light whirled around Aaron’s forearms as he loaded shells into the ports along his cybernetics. He braced, then unleashed a surge of energy that slammed into the Hive’s outer wall, incinerating a cluster of swarmers. Others shot upward in panicked flight, only to be caught midair as the anti-Griever rounds punched through their thick carapaces.

  Cleo reloaded with practiced speed, watching Aaron paint the sky with blue flame. The hauler turrets joined in, their steady barrage ripping down a few more swarmers before they could dive.

  Karauro lobbed a grenade into the air and snapped a shot into it mid-arc. The explosion kicked the device sideways, spiraling it into the mass of creatures boiling out of the Hive’s opening. Their bodies writhed and melted under the blast of intense flames.

  Nera kept her aim locked on the darkness beyond, firing into the Hive’s inner throat. Her bullets sparked and ricocheted off something deeper within.

  Karauro: There you are. I knew it was too easy. Stupid queen. "I'm not trying to overstep here, Nera," he said quickly. "But if the turrets can target that opening, we might be able to flush her out and take her down."

  Nera nodded once, eyes never leaving the target.

  "I trust you to take the lead for now. Your data helped us take some down," she said, dodging a swooping creature and slicing cleanly through it with her blade.

  Karauro unleashed a burst of energy from his kinetic glove, knocking another attacker off-course before it could rake across her armor.

  Both haulers roared into motion on opposite sides, turrets pivoting toward the Hive’s opening. A torrent of rounds screamed into the throat of the structure, shell casings raining down the hauler flanks.

  A deafening screech answered from within. Black ichor sprayed at the Hive’s edge as something massive forced its way through. A queen swarmer emerged—bigger than the rest—thrashing its tail and slicing apart any lesser swarmers in its way.

  Its mandibles were longer, razor-sharp, framing a skull that seemed to crawl with movement. It hovered just off the lip of the Hive, then dived, slamming its elongated abdomen into the cement and kicking up a choking cloud of dust toward Unit 7.

  Turrets ripped into the smaller fliers diving alongside her. The queen’s skull split open along strange hinges, revealing three long stingers that lashed at the concrete and dragged her forward.

  Nera stepped back, firing at the stingers to keep them from reaching the front line. Cleo fell in beside her, firing into the dark opening where the stingers emerged, provoking the creature further. Its carapace shifted from dark red to a pulsing, frantic hue as its head snapped toward Cleo.

  Before she could move, one stinger lashed out, coiling around her left leg and yanking her into the air. She hit the ground hard, tumbling across the ruined street before skidding to a stop.

  Karauro energized his glove, his other hand already snapping to his hip pouch. A long, spear-like carbon rod sprang into his grip. With a sharp flex of his arm and kinetic assist, he hurled the spear deep into the queen’s thorax.

  He fired his thrusters and launched into a short burst, getting between Cleo and another strike. With his combat knife, he deflected a second stinger aimed straight at Cleo’s visor, the impact ringing up his arm. Cleo staggered back, dazed but alive.

  His cheek scar throbbed with phantom pain in his helmet. He first felt it with 2 of the 5 surviving Eynox outpost members after facing the creature. The Queen's bladed tail had shattered his old helmet, missing him as he rolled to dodge its attacks.

  Frustration flared through him. Karauro flexed his hand again, drawing another black carbon spear from the pouch. He channeled a kinetic blast through his arm and loosed it, pinning one of the flailing stingers to the queen’s front legs.

  As Aaron dragged Cleo to relative cover, he opened fire on the queen, adding to the storm of rounds hammering its armor.

  Karauro charged a third rod, muscles burning with each throw, and struck again, impaling another stinger and locking it to the ground.

  Nera took to the air on a burst from her thrusters, closing the distance in a blur. Her cybernetic arm-blade flared violet as she came down in a clean arc, severing the stinger stretched across the ground.

  Letting out a piercing screech, the queen lunged again—but Karauro held his ground, raising both hands. He released a wave of kinetic energy that slammed into its front leg, shattering the joint and driving the creature down onto one knee.

  He snatched up his knife again, flicking the thermal edge to life. In a few fast arcs, he carved through the last two stingers while the earlier severed lengths still hung from the pinned rods. Grabbing the limp, twitching limbs, he hurled them back into the queen’s face.

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  It reared with another guttural shriek, razor tail lifting for a killing strike—then Karauro’s HUD pinged. Three signals, closing fast.

  He triggered his kinetic glove and blasted himself backward, boots skidding across cracked concrete. At the same time, an explosion ripped through the Hive wall behind the queen, shattering meat and stone alike. Debris rained down in chunks, dust and spores blooming outward in a rolling wave.

  Two larger figures clawed their way up the building toward the breach.

  The Swarmer Queen shook off its daze, hissing at them as it spat a spray of foaming ichor from its inner maw. The stream missed, splattering against the shattered wall, while the queen clawed closer, attempting to burrow back inside.

  Karauro yelled, "I know you're in there! Come out so we can end this once and for all."

  The third ping on Karauro's HUD shifted from the massive breach in the wall toward the queen.

  Massive hands—one grey, one black—shot out through the dust and clamped around its skull.

  With a sickening wrench, they tore the queen in half.

  Karauro: Right on cue!

  The ground shuddered as a larger Griever stepped fully into view, its frame towering over the ruins. Black veins pulsed a deep, smoldering red beneath its armor-like hide. It flung the torn halves of the queen aside and unleashed a thunderous roar that rattled in Karauro’s chest. Four long stingers arched over its shoulders like spears poised to strike.

  Karauro: Was wondering when you’d show up, asshole!

  The massive head snapped toward him and tilted, just slightly. The whole body seemed to shiver—not with confusion, but with recognition and rage.

  Aaron: You know Grievers now too? What, you make friends with them while you’re gone?

  Karauro: More like… kill buddies.

  Roy: Wait, wait—no way. You didn’t actually share all your secrets with it and become friends. That’s bullshit, man!

  Karauro: Relax. It’s not like that. We just lost count of how many times we’ve tried to kill each other.

  Nera glanced at Karauro, sensing a sudden change. Though he was silent before, something felt amiss.

  She spotted an unusual brightness at the edge of his visor, a vivid hue in his eye.

  What the hell?

  Just as she was about to say his name, two thunderous roars echoed through the air. Two larger berserkers clashed fiercely for a glowing purple core held in one of their hand.

  The one that held the core devoured it, then ripped the other apart, head to toe. It flung the corpse over the ledge, ichor splattering against the walls of the building. The second figure leaped down, its size swelling to nearly double, but it stood frozen, its body trembling and dark veins creeping from its chest and snaking throughout its entire form.

  Karauro: Nera, focus all firepower on its chest. The plates still need to strengthen its carapace. For now, I'll deal with the big one.

  For a second, nobody moved.

  The queen’s torn remains twitched in the rubble, ichor dripping from jagged stone. Turret barrels whirred down with a tired whine, brass casings rolling lazy circles on the concrete. All of it felt distant to Nera.

  Her focus stayed locked on Karauro.

  He wasn’t posturing. He wasn’t cracking some stupid joke to bleed off adrenaline. He just stood there, shoulders squared toward the Berserker like he’d been waiting for it… like the rest of them were background noise.

  The glow at the edge of his visor pulsed once, then settled, as if something behind his eyes had blinked.

  Nera stepped forward without thinking, half a step ahead of him, her cybernetic arm lowering between him and the Griever.

  Nera: Stay behind the line, mutt.

  Her voice came out steady, but her grip tightened on the hilt until the servos in her arm whined.

  The Berserker took one heavy step closer, its four stingers lifting, framing its skull.

  Karauro didn’t flinch.

  And for the first time, Nera wasn’t sure which one of them she was more worried about—the monster in front of them, or the one trying to wake up inside him.

  ***

  Nera: “I’m not asking again—”

  Karauro ignored her.

  He shot forward, low and fast, skimming beneath the Berserker’s sweeping arms as concrete blurred beneath him.

  Roy: “Nera, we’re taking fire!”

  She gritted her teeth and kept firing, chewing through the second Berserker’s forming chest plates before they could harden.

  Aaron: “There he goes again. Some traits don’t get trained out of a stray.”

  Cleo: “Swarmers above!”

  Illene: “I’ll burn some when we swing!”

  Turret fire ripped into the sky. Spores parted. Ichor rained down.

  Taron steered the hauler close. Karauro grabbed a side handle just as a colossal fist smashed the street behind him, concrete exploding where he’d stood.

  Taron: “Upgrades are paying off—but you’re still stubborn.”

  Karauro: “Learned from the best.”

  The alpha Berserker pursued, dragging itself farther from Nera and Aaron.

  Karauro flexed his hand. The rifle lifted from its mag-lock and snapped into his grip. He fired—rounds cracking armor, exposing raw flesh beneath.

  A memory flashed: miscalibration. Dropped weapon. Too slow. Too late.

  Not this time.

  He jumped from the speeding hauler, thrusters flaring to slow his fall. He hit the street in a low skid as the Berserker turned, sneering.

  “Can’t remember where we left off,” Karauro said. “Doesn’t matter. This ends today.”

  The Berserker roared and charged.

  Karauro sprinted toward it.

  He fired into the exposed chest, stripping armor until it raised its forearms to shield itself. Inches away, a fist swung down.

  Thrusters kicked. He veered aside, heat blasting off cracked pavement, slapped the rifle back to mag-lock, and surged upward—landing on its shoulder.

  Blades snapped from his gauntlets, glowing hot. He carved into hardened flesh, the stink of burning meat flooding his helmet. The beast dropped to one knee.

  He reached for a disruptive pulse—

  Stingers lashed out. Sparks screamed across his Nexon-suit. One struck hard.

  The Berserker grabbed him and hurled him toward a slanted building.

  Memory hit—no Scarlet suit. Rusted railings. The fall. Survival by chance.

  His eyes flared orange.

  A kinetic burst twisted his trajectory. Another slammed him toward the wall. Claws snapped out, dragging sparks until his momentum bled away.

  Nera: “Are you insane?!”

  Karauro: “Is the other one dead?”

  Nera: “Yes! Get back here—we finish this together!”

  He didn’t answer.

  The Berserker locked onto Taron’s hauler.

  Karauro moved.

  He slid down the slanted wall, claws scraping against the concrete. As he hit the ground, he kicked off, rifle already firing.

  “Nera! It’s after Taron and Ilene—I’ll catch a ride and hold it!”

  The hauler screamed past. He reached—missed. Pain spiked. Vision blurred.

  YOU ARE NOTHING WITHOUT ME!

  His eyes burned. The flare faded.

  Karauro fired a wire snare. It wrapped the turret and yanked him airborne. Thrusters flared as he hauled himself onto the back.

  The Berserker slammed the hauler into the wall.

  Karauro was thrown clear, skidding hard across concrete.

  Nera: “Taron, Ilene—status!”

  Taron: “Alive. Ilene’s bleeding. We need backup.”

  Nera: “On the way!”

  Heat crawled beneath Karauros skin as the Berserker loomed, crushing him in its grip.

  Nera spotted them.

  “MUTT!”

  She burned thrusters—and smelled it.

  Burning.

  “I’m done with you,” Karauro said.

  The creature squeezed—then roared, dropping him as its palm smoked.

  Karauro landed hard, boots planting. Blades flared orange. Ichor hissed.

  Ilene’s turret hammered the Berserker’s face.

  Karauro fired a snare into its exposed chest, vaulted around its bulk, fired a second line mid-air. Bullets slammed into his armor as the turret’s barrels glowed red.

  Ilene: “Karauro, get clear!”

  “Don’t stop firing!”

  She didn’t.

  Karauro landed on the hauler’s hood, yanked the Berserker into the spinning barrels, cable cinching tight—then severed the line and threw himself clear.

  The turret bored into the core.

  Black ichor erupted.

  The Berserker collapsed.

  Silence followed—cooling metal, ragged breathing over comms.

  Nera staggered to him.

  Karauro lay steaming in the ichor-slick street, claws half-extended, visor dark. His breathing hitched faintly.

  HUD ping.

  SPORE COUNT: dropping

  STATUS: collapsing

  HIVE CORE: neutralized

  THRESHOLD: safe

  Aaron: “Air’s clear. Helmets green.”

  Nera stayed helmeted.

  “Mutt.”

  Nothing.

  She hauled him upright and nearly buckled under his weight.

  “…When did you get this heavy?”

  His visor lit. Their eyes met.

  “Gonna need Aaron,” Karauro muttered.

  Aaron scoffed, hoisting him. “Every time.”

  Across the street, Roy bandaged Ilene.

  “Don’t move,” Roy said. “Or I’ll use more.”

  “I’m fine,” she snapped.

  “You’re not.”

  Her eyes flicked to Karauro.

  “Don’t make that face, mutt. Part of the job.”

  Karauro caught Roy’s glance anyway. Looked away.

  The hauler was tilted but not tipped.

  “Wheels aren’t parallel,” Taron said. “We shove wrong, it rolls.”

  “I’ll spot,” Riven said.

  Inside, warm light spilled out. Karauro steadied himself.

  “I can handle myself.”

  Aaron snorted. “Sure.”

  Metal groaned outside.

  Something scraped.

  A half-dead swarmer crawled from the gutter.

  Karauros gaze snapped—cold. Wrong.

  Roy fired once.

  Silence rushed back.

  Karauro turned away from the doorway, hunched, breathing rough.

  Nera stepped closer—careful.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the hauler,” he said. “With you.”

  “Good.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She didn’t blink.

  “‘Fine’ won’t cut it. You’re shaking.”

  He tried to laugh. Failed.

  Nera keyed her comm.

  “Whren.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Conscious. Tremor. Masking. Spore levels safe.”

  “Get him back. Don’t leave him alone.”

  “Yeah.”

  She watched him swallow everything down just to stay upright—and knew he wasn’t fine, no matter how many times he said it.