Vance pressed close to the thick window. Outside, storm-colored clouds tore by as the ship surged forward - but that six-winged shape hung motionless beside it, locked in step. A chill like frozen metal burned where the mark lived beneath his hairline, stabbing deep behind his eyes.
That foot on his right had given up fifteen years just to stay fixed, now it pulsed with a slow fire deep inside. Each shudder from the ship sent splinters of pain through joints worn thin. Crunching sounds came with movement, like pebbles breaking underfoot. The ache moved without warning, settling where motion hurt most.
Frozen breath curled from his lips as Elian trembled down the icy hall. A whisper slipped out: "What's waiting beyond this place?".
Falling back from the cold steel gate, Vance said it was over.
A low rumble, like stone tearing apart, rolled through the ship's belly. Not fire from guns. Not charged bursts of energy. A woman lifted one white hand. From her palm, invisible force surged - then smashed into the warship's left-side drive.
A deep shudder ran through the giant ship, tipping it hard toward the right. Metal walls screamed as pressure twisted them beyond limits. Under Vance's feet, the floor wrenched upward - almost vertical - slipping control from every step.
Down the tilted hallway he shoved himself hard into the wall, keeping from slipping as pain shot through his arm where the makeshift wiring held it together. Each step tugged at torn tissue beneath the skin, like burning threads cutting deeper with every move. A breath caught in his throat - he forced it quiet, jaw tightening until blood filled his mouth from biting too hard inside. Sharp sting followed each heartbeat, steady and unkind.
A sudden grip came as Axiom sank claws deep into the metal grid, halting its skid. From within the torn edge of the hull, the lynx-shaped dark mass pulsed - fed by live wires, buzzing like storm-charged tar. Low sound rolled out of it, not fear but challenge, a snarl built on arrogance born of hunger satisfied.
A dull crimson glow snapped on, casting long shadows across the floor. Overhead, the comm system crackled wildly - voices from the Argent Cartel spilled through, urgent, unshielded, dropping codes in favor of raw shouts.
"Hull breach in Sector Four! Gravity stabilizers failing! All hands repel boarders!"
Down the stairs came heavy boots, thudding fast. Rushing by the prison cages, tilted sideways now, moved a group of Argent fighters. Their gaze stayed forward - no look back at freed captives. Sliding on the slant, they charged ahead, armor clanking. Ahead lay the breaking engine core. Raised high, their rifles sparked with energy meant to strike something beyond knowing.
"We have to move to the escape pods," Vance commanded, forcing himself upright against the slanted wall. "Sector Twelve, upper deck."
Fleeing behind, Elian held back - afraid yet precise - in step with the jittering creature spitting sparks.
Halfway up the broken ship, gravity tugged like it had its own agenda. Through narrow service tunnels they moved, slipping past locked hatches after frying their seals with pulses of black current from Axiom. Cold crept deeper into the iron bones of the vessel by the minute. Ice bloomed where breath hit metal, proof enough of what drifted forward without effort through torn walls.
At the rim of the main storage space, they paused. Broken by intense gravity during the first strike, the huge doorway lay twisted beyond recognition.
Finding the twisted opening just wide enough, Vance slipped inside, aiming to cross the massive storage area straight toward the pod docks. The moment he entered the vast chamber, his hand moved to the blade at his belt - better ready if any guards remained nearby.
A single enormous containment chamber sat inside the cargo hold instead of weapons, soldiers, or gear. Not crates, vehicles, but one vast sealed space.
Hanging midair, held by thick magnetic lines, a giant clear pod sat still at the room's heart. Frost covered everything else on the vessel - yet left the smooth glass untouched. Built into its frame, scattered without pattern, were dark bio-valves from the Obsidian Cartel along with Vanguard stabilizers - a sign these enemy groups once worked together, something never seen before.
A shape hung in the air, unbound by anything the Fracture claimed to allow. Though rules insisted such forms could not exist, there it remained - still, silent, impossible. What drifted above the floor bent understanding like light through broken glass. Its presence mocked every principle once thought absolute. Not even whispers of logic held firm where this thing simply was.
Above all stood silent - a creature made not of flesh but sharp beams, pure light cutting through dark. Not moving, yet full of waiting power. Gears like ancient suns hung frozen around it, huge and still. This one had never fallen apart. Whole. Unbroken. An Aethelgard Watcher, untouched by time or ruin.
A hush fell where the shard had thrummed. Vance lay still, breath gone, pulse vanished. Its hunger stilled - faced with the other piece now near - the metal quiet like something dead. Stillness spread through bone and blood.
Not only did the Argent Cartel seize control of the skies to snag a stolen Vanguard dropship, they pulled off something far bigger. Out of the Elysian Waves came what looked like myth - real and breathing - and they boxed it in. That catch wasn't cargo. It moved on its own terms before chains took hold.
A shape with wings ripped open the warship, its edges frayed by force. Not only did it hunt Vance's small stolen piece, yet sensed the full device waiting nearby. Her purp
ose arrived complete - take back every part.