The squad leader forced himself upright, trying to shout, but his voice cracked — nothing came out.
Li was locked in place, staring at Naryssa and his own broken form. Pain surged through him, dull and distant now from the sheer number of wounds. Still, he pressed on. The other Guardians weren't faring much better; most were in worse shape than Li, barely able to stand.
The leader tried to speak again, but Li already understood what he meant. There was no going back — only forward. If they moved, maybe they'd find a way out. But nothing ahead looked promising. No signs, no paths. Just a corridor.
Still bleeding, they pushed ahead.
The corridor hadn't collapsed — a small mercy — and in the distance, footsteps echoed. The forward team was returning. Naryssa's voice came through the comms, strained but clear:
"Don't come back. The arena's gone."
As if on cue, a final, deafening crash echoed behind them. The ground shook. That was it — the last of it collapsing.
The rest of the squad arrived: reinforcements. Not as injured, but their faces said enough. They'd seen too much.
"What do we do now?" someone asked, breathless.
Another squad leader helped theirs to his feet. The answer came, quiet but certain:
"We move forward. That's all we can do."
…
They had moved as fast as they could, then slowed. The cycle repeated at least three times. No status update had come from the Drill Team, so by now, everyone had accepted that they could be attacked—and vaporized—at any moment.
The other team leader was still receiving updates, and apparently, A0 was missing. Blur was the only S-tier who had evacuated.
Through the internal interface, the other squad leader watched the surface. A wave of ships were lifting off. Emergency evacuation in full effect. On the streets, thousands of Guardians stood in formation—disciplined, unmoving, ready—holding the line as others fled.
A few more rescue squads were still descending, but most of the lost would have to wait. When the S-tiers returned, they'd sweep the planet. The Covenant couldn't afford to abandon this world in failure.
Li could feel the pressure of the depth now—maybe miles underground. It kept getting worse. So did the sense of something wrong, something twisted. The anxiety clawed at him. They crossed into a chamber and he almost screamed.
He knew this place.
The memory surged back—him and Xiao Shu—standing in this exact room. The sparkles in the air shimmered the same way. The walls pulsed with the same black, living mass
For a moment, it felt like a dream dipped in sadness—like they were all together again, back when this place still held peace. It was comforting, a quiet spark catching light like, making comfort grow.
Then it turned, melting into a sudden burst of melancholy, pulsing in vivid neon blue before flickering out too quickly. All that remained was the ache in his chest, swallowing the warmth that had dared to grow.
The others paused here too, drawn by the flickering lights. Tiny echoes of a civilization that once reached for the stars, reminders of the beauty this world used to hold.
They stood in silence, watching the soft shimmer above. Around them, the dark swelled and receded with gentle rhythm—it wasn't safe, not really, but it was safe enough. For now.
Their leaders were speaking with command, faces tight and unreadable. Whatever they heard, it didn't seem like an evacuation was coming. The commanders just nodded, weary, and signaled them forward.
Li stayed a moment longer. Just one. He let the last glimmer press into memory before turning away, heading deeper into the unknown. His tears followed the same trail that blood once carved across his face.
Strangely, it felt as if the insectoids had evacuated. A sudden, unsettling emptiness filled the space. Like many before him, Li couldn't explain it—only that he and Xiao Shu had definitely been here once.
"Li… is there a lot of blood on me?"
He didn't want to frighten her, but lying wasn't an option.
"Naryssa… it's going to be fine. You—"
"There's a lot, isn't there?"
"..."
They pressed on. A distant crumble echoed ahead, faint at first, then louder with each repetition. The Guardians raised their weapons, tense, but nothing appeared. Eventually, the sound stopped. Silence followed, and they walked in it—each lost in their own thoughts.
Then the floor gave out.
The commander dropped into the void, along with the entire stretch of hallway ahead. Everything in front of them collapsed with eerie precision. Li stepped forward and peered down.
Miles below, the hive's core stared back. And not too far, the shrinking silhouette of the commander fell toward it.