A violent tremor wracks the starship, plunging everything into bedlam. Above, the rifts stir to life in sequence like twisted, malevolent eyes awakening in the abyss.
Everyone bolts from the command room. Inside the narrow safe zone, students who were cadets only days ago now fumble into soldiers' formations.
Have you traced that designation yet?
Vanessa hurries out, checking her weapon on the move.
N-no, we couldn't. That designation sequence doesn't exist in our records at all...
...What do you mean, doesn't exist?
Based on the designation structure, that year... F.O.S. had no female student with the ID Joanne registered.
F.O.S. College assigns each student a unique designation that encodes detailed information, including location, enrollment year, name, and student number.
Every enrolled student receives their own designation, and once a student has registered for enrollment, their record remains in the system without exception.
...Is the Chimera mimicking an F.O.S. signal?
You've never laid eyes on the colossal creature, yet Vanessa's account leaves no doubt that it could obliterate every human here in any way it pleased.
Then what is this signal playing at—
Before she can finish, the deck convulses again. All around you, supply crates lurch into frenzy, their restraints snapping one by one.
You drag an injured soldier clear of a supply crate a heartbeat before it tips. With a deafening crash, the massive metal container slams into the opposite bulkhead.
■▃▂■■▇▃█▂▄▇■▃█—
The Chimera! Right on cue.
From beyond the compartment comes a piercing shriek, far off but cold to the bone.
Vanessa! We're running out of time out here!
The effort to secure the wounded is cut short as Vanessa's terminal shrieks to life. On the screen, Raynor's face looms, blood smeared across his cheek, his eyes wild with panic.
Rifts are multiplying fast, and the Punishing Virus concentration's spiking hard! Several just tore open right next to the comms tower... they're going after the tower itself!
I've got Teams 3 and 4 moving to reinforce... but I won't lie, we can barely hold the line...
That tower does not fall. I'm on my way with reinforcements. You just—
Vanessa understands the starship's layout and the unfolding chaos far better than you do. You only just got here. Trusting her with this mission is the smarter tactical call.
...All right.
Your eyes meet. A curt nod from Vanessa, and then she's off, rushing away with another Construct who doubled back to reinforce your position.
■▃▂■■▇▃█▂▄▇■▃█—
The Fog carries sounds both mournful and grating, distant yet everywhere at once. The dense gray haze swallows all in its path, spreading through the starship.
The Punishing Virus concentration is off the charts... It's already crystallizing.
Lucia's blade slices clean through one of the strange crystals creeping over the wall.
Is running all you humans are good for?
The fog parts to a sudden blade, steel flashing cold in the murk. The creature inside has no time to shriek before its body smashes down onto the wreckage-strewn deck.
Further talk is impossible now. The chaos closes in again, consuming you entirely.
Hmph.
Red alarm lights bleed through the fog at the safe zone's edge. Squinting, Alpha catches human silhouettes drifting through the haze.
So fragile. So powerless. Lucia can't slaughter every threat that drags itself from the mist. Any one of them could cut these humans to pieces mid-stride.
All they have are protective suits that filter out the Punishing Virus. But even that protection...
Ready—FIRE!!
A student gives the order, and the others clamp down on their triggers.
Muzzles blaze, flame engulfing creatures close enough to touch. Alpha sees the terror in their faces. Still, no one breaks. No one steps back.
Push forward! Keep attacking!
Instructor Lester's voice is raw now, scraped hoarse. Around him, a cluster of F.O.S. students presses tight behind cover.
Reload!
The student shouting commands hoists the F.O.S. banner overhead, urging the others forward into another assault.
Jaws tight, arms trembling, but every weapon stays raised.
A petite female student in a protective suit slips through the trenches to the next sector, bracing the gun arm of her shaking comrade.
Grip it tight... like this. Recoil's gonna wreck your shoulder otherwise.
O-okay...
His grip fails him. His fingers slacken, and no matter how fiercely he wills it, the trigger won't budge.
S-sorry...
He bites down hard on his lower lip. Blood seeps from the cracked skin.
I... I just can't...
Hey, it's okay. You're just wound up, that's all.
Nia's eyes narrow. She steadies the student's aim, her finger pressing over his on the trigger.
BANG!
The shot rips clean through a nearby monster.
Osso... right?
See that? In a situation like that, if you could read the eyes or somewhere else as the weak point and act on it? That'd be a solid eighty in tactical support, right at the door of top marks.
Her voice stumbles over Instructor Elianna's phrases, repeating them like a mantra. Then, gently, Nia releases her hold on his hand.
R-really...?
...Of course.
You've got it from here.
Once more, she helps Osso settle his sights on target.
Ready—FIRE!
Don't let them near the barricade!
The heavy guns thunder as one, their muzzle fire scorching blazing lines through the mist.
Monsters shriek and collapse under the barrage, but it means nothing. More of them pour over the fallen in a snarling, metallic wave. The same volleys that would tear through steel plates cannot stop them. The tide surges on, right to the barricade's lip.
Watch out for the flank! They're breaking through—!
The roar of close-range detonations swallows the screams whole. A claw erupts through from the enemy side, too fast for the banner-bearing student to react.
Once held firm and high, the F.O.S. banner dips, tilts, and crashes down as the student crumples beneath the blow.
Fall back! Back to the filter's perimeter!
Instructor Lester clears the shattered barricade in one leap, his twin heavy submachine guns roaring with an unbroken stream of fire.
...Instructor Lester!
The monsters flood forward, swallowing the distance in an instant. Lester discards his empty guns, pulls a tactical knife, and sinks it clean into an enemy's joint.
Get back! Ugh!
From a fissure in the deck, a dark form erupts. A shriek, a flash of claws, and then it's through him.
Lester is slammed back and pinned to the metal bulkhead before he can even gasp.
Instructor!
Nia vaults out of the trench, rifle blazing, but the fire she pours into the enemy barely slows them.
In an instant, several breach the gap, flooding the trench and ripping savagely into the students.
They... they're in!
Don't panic! Keep firing!
Her voice rips through the trench, a scream driven by nothing but raw instinct.
Hold your ground! Don't let go! Shoot!
The students clamber out of the trench in a frantic rush. Nia spots the enemies closing from behind, tosses her jammed rifle aside, and roots herself squarely in the passage.
For F.O.S.—!
Her hand snatches the micro-bomb from her waist—
...
A blade cuts the air, knocking aside an enemy mid-lunge. The impact jars the micro-bomb from Nia's grip, sending it tumbling into the mass of monsters.
And then, that strange, unshakable feeling surges through Alpha's M.I.N.D. again.
Commandant, those rifts!
You catch your breath for a split second, then glance up at Lucia's shout. The rifts are still spreading all around the vessel, and from every one pours an unending tide of enemies flooding toward the deck.
Understood.
I don't answer to you. I'll hold the line for—
Ngh...
■▃▂■■▇▃█▂▄▇■▃█—
Another piercing shriek splits the air. Alpha reels, her knuckles bone-white around the hilt of her blade.
Whatever this disturbance is, it's reaching straight into your mind. Even your Mind Beacon flickers, its readings spiking erratically.
So... that's the source.
Alpha steadies herself and draws her blade.
You reach out, but it's already too late. Alpha is gone, swallowed by the fog beyond the perimeter.
Blood slicks the ground beyond the safe zone.
Somewhere in the Fog, the Chimera draws nearer to the starship.
With every shriek it looses, the Fog splinters wider. Rift after rift gapes open, disgorging packs of creatures that scramble onto the deck like rabid wolves, surging mindlessly toward the safe zone.
No objective. No strategy. Only the raw instinct to kill every human they find.
...You.
Alpha stares through the shifting Fog, her gaze finding the Chimera where it looms beside the starship like a waking nightmare.
■▃▂■■▇▃█▂▄▇■▃█—
It seems... sad.
What...
How can she even feel that? Why does its sorrow echo in her M.I.N.D.?
Then the pain hits her M.I.N.D., like claws digging into her psyche and squeezing. Alpha frowns, blaming the Fog. It has to be the Fog.
Her blade lashes out, cutting through the creatures that throw themselves at her.
If you're the source...
She crosses the gap in an instant, boots hitting the bloodstained deck with a solid, unyielding impact.
What do you want?
A flash of steel, and a creature is pinned to the bulkhead mid-climb, clawing limbs going still.
Dragging all these people here... The F.O.S. starship, me, the Gray Raven Commandant, and Lucia...
The massive creature looms in the distance. Alpha locks onto it, her blade slicing through the swirling fog as she takes two slow, measured steps forward.
What are you planning?
Near the Communications Tower
F.O.S. Starship
The Fog
Fog spirals in a slow, churning vortex around the tower. The Chimera's cries rip the sky apart, and with every rift that blooms, the Punishing Virus thickens and crystallizes. Corrupted structures form, winding around the tower like tightening coils.
Where the hell is our backup...?
—Maya!
Just in time, Raynor spins his gun up and fires one-handed. His other hand snaps forward, snatching the student by the collar and yanking her out of the creature's reach.
Spacing out now? Trying to get yourself killed? Get back there and cover me!
Y-yes!
A hair's breadth from death, the student grips her gun and throws herself back behind cover.
If support doesn't arrive soon, the tower's done...
Jaw clenched, Raynor squints through the dense fog, his bloodshot eyes fixed desperately on the nearby communications tower.
The creatures are scaling the Punishing Virus crystals, clawing their way toward the tower's peak. Scout Team 5 throws every round they have at them, but it's barely making a dent.
Open fire!
A cold shout tears through the air above. The next instant, a vicious barrage of fire slams into the creatures scaling the communications tower with surgical precision.
...Vanessa! Thank god!
Wait... where'd you get heavy artillery?
Storage.
Vanessa offers no further explanation. She snaps an order at the two Constructs to maintain fire, her other hand already activating her terminal.
Scout Team 5, Valen, you still with us?
Of course!
For a moment, only static and the sickening scrape of metal. Then the transmission clears, and a male instructor's voice comes through.
Scout Team 5, full complement three, all three standing—
Vanessa, we're almost out of ammo, but... we're alive. All of us!
Then stay that way. I'll handle the ammo.
Keep broadcasting the distress signal. And...
Hang in there.
Ha! Never thought I'd hear that from you, Vanessa.
Don't worry. I haven't proposed to Elianna yet. No way I'm dying here!
...
Before Vanessa can respond, the line goes dead.
...Valen still doesn't know. About Elianna...
Who's going there to tell him now?
Vanessa doesn't even look up. She cuts Raynor off mid-sentence, her tone icy and detached, her eyes locked on the tactical map.
Forget it. None of us even knows if we're making it through today.
Another green light flickers and dies on the holographic display. Her lips tighten into a thin, bloodless line.
...Lester's down.
...
Despair drags Raynor's head down.
He once strode through F.O.S. College in Babylonia as its Director of Administration, wielding control over every asset aboard the starship. Now, all that power is meaningless. Here, in this nightmare, he can do nothing but bear witness as his old comrades are cut down, one after the next.
Quit standing there. I brought ammo. We need to get it up to Valen and his team...
She moves too fast, and the wound in her arm pulls hard. The last trace of color bleeds from her pale face, her brow creasing sharply.
...You're hurt?!
It's nothing. Changed my suit, no infection risk. Don't fuss.
Vanessa shifts, a casual turn masking something far from casual: a wound slashed deep to the bone, blood welling and spilling in steady rivulets down her arm.
Find a way to get those supplies up there. Whatever it takes, that tower does not fall.
Raynor raises his head, gaze fixed on the steel framework standing isolated in the dense fog. A flicker of doubt crosses his eyes.
But even if we hold the tower... can we actually reach Babylonia from here?
Before, I wasn't sure. Now... it's possible.
On the holographic map, two green signals still flash, locked in combat. Vanessa's eyes follow them, unwavering.
[player name] and Lucia... and that suspicious Construct... they made it into the Fog. That proves this space is unstable.
It's not a sealed barrier. Intermittent exits lead back to the surface.
Her eyes narrow, zeroing in on the waveband frequencies scrolling across the terminal screen.
As long as we keep broadcasting on all frequencies, and as long as Babylonia is still searching...
...we will reach them.
