Admiral Kia's fingers tightened around the edge of her command console, the obsidian surface cracking beneath her grip. The bridge of the Spear of Umbara fell into immediate silence as the distorted image of Commander Vantos flickered off-screen—his face bloodied but defiant, his voice having just broadcast across three sectors:
"The shadows do not rule the fire. Tell Kizito… Raluven still breathes."
Kia's voice, when it came, was colder than deep vacuum.
"Deploy the Thal'Karn. All of them."
Her command did not echo—it simply carved itself into reality. Dozens of handlers aboard nearby dreadnoughts initiated neural releases. Massive holding bays opened with hydraulic screeches, unleashing the Thal'Karn: biomechanical warbeasts of fused flesh and hatred, each one bearing the runes of loyalty and implanted kill-fails.
They howled across the ruined districts of Raluven-4.
"Track Vantos," Kia seethed. "I want his skull screaming beneath my heel before Kizito arrives."
The Hunt Beneath
Beneath the smoldering remains of Raluven-4's capital spire, Vantos led what remained of his elite shadowcell through sewer tunnels slick with blood and bio-corrosion. The air was thick with chemical rot, collapsed metal, and the faint whine of proximity sensors.
"We don't make it to that hangar bay in five minutes," he hissed, "we're staying here forever."
Behind them, the distant scrape-chatter of the Thal'Karn's talons drew closer—clawing along stone and steel like predators savoring the final moment before pounce.
One of his scouts, Vekra, fell behind.
"No!" Vantos caught her shoulder. "Keep moving—no one dies in the dark."
But it was too late. With a shriek of sonic agony, a Thal'Karn burst through a side vent, jaws splitting vertically like a serpent of flesh and shadow. Vekra screamed as its tongue—a barbed neural lash—pierced her spine. The team opened fire, shredding the beast's face with plasma bursts before hauling her bloodied form forward.
They reached the hangar's underbay door just as the ceiling above caved, revealing more Thal'Karn dropping like apocalyptic rain.
Vantos slammed his fist on the activation rune. "Open it! Now!"
The door parted—and beyond, salvation.
Fire in the Void
The hidden hangar bay launched them into hell.
Dozens of Zelith strikecraft, bearing the blue-gold markings of Fleet Admiral Tyresh, surged into orbit, engaging Mahasimu patrol corvettes with blistering precision. Tyresh had come on direct command from the High Castle to retrieve Vantos—"at any cost."
Aboard his war-frigate Jurek's Light, Tyresh barked orders.
"Maintain intercept formation! Vantos's signal is inbound—clear a path, now!"
Shadowscourge drop-pods fired from Mahasimu cruisers, riddling the void with harpoons and hull-crippling charges. One Zelith destroyer exploded, sending a spiral of flame across the battlescape.
Vantos's battered shuttle jettisoned into the storm, weaving through enemy fire with engines stuttering.
"We're not gonna make it—"
"Yes, we are." Vantos keyed the comm. "Tyresh, mark our beacon!"
Tyresh's ship rotated hard and fired a shielding bubble—an experimental grav-barrier formed from concentrated chroniton particles. The pod broke through.
"Jumping now," Tyresh called.
The Broadcast
Before the Zelith shuttle made its final jump, Vantos activated one last transmission. The line went directly to the Mahasimu command network.
General Kizito himself received it aboard the looming Vroth'Maul, his massive fleet having just emerged from warp.
Vantos's bloodied, smirking face appeared before him.
"General. I was there. I watched Raluven burn. But you missed the heart. You missed me."
"Your shadows fear fire. And the fire… is coming."
The transmission cut as the Zelith ships vanished into warp trails.
Fortress of the Resistance
In the fortified station of Zahrak's Edge, orbiting a molten moon deep in Zelith territory, High General Vrakhar stood over a war-table with his gauntleted fists clenched.
"Get him in here."
Vantos—still injured, still defiant—limped into the command sanctum.
Vrakhar's voice rumbled like tectonic plates shifting.
"You better tell me everything, Commander. What Kia unleashed… we've never seen its like."
"I saw it all," Vantos replied grimly. "And I know how to break them."
Behind him, massive screens showed battle-readiness across the Zelith sector. Fleet mobilization was nearly complete.
The Mirror of Command
Elsewhere, aboard the Vroth'Maul, General Kizito stood cloaked in stillness. Admiral Kia knelt before him in the shadow-lit debriefing chamber.
"He escaped."
"Yes," Kia replied. "But not unmarked. He'll carry our scars."
"Not good enough," Kizito growled. "You unleashed the Thal'Karn—now the galaxy watches. They will call us monsters."
Kia looked up. "Let them. Monsters win wars."
Kizito turned to the star map. "This war… is no longer surgical. It is apocalyptic."
"Then let it burn," Kia said.
And the shadows began to move.