Akane stood at the deck in aurius station.
What he remembered—
Didn't exist anymore.
Outside—
Nexarion burned in sections.
On the brink of collapse.
Ships float unmanned.
Massive barriers cut the station into zones.
Some sealed.
Some abandoned.
Some still fighting.
Ships constantly moved.
Not exploring.
Not vacuating.
Not reinforcing.
Not surviving.
But abandoned.
"The virus wasn't containable" the commander said.
"We had no choice."
Akane didn't respond.
Just watched.
"We don't call them districts anymore," he continued.
"We call them bastion sectors"
"Bastion sector?" he repeated.
"They are what remains of nexarion"
"Small bastions easy to defend"
A map appeared.
Nexarion split across small bastions.
Red.
Yellow.
Green.
"Green holds," Heavy said.
"Yellow is contested."
"Red is gone."
Akane looked at the red zones.
There were too many.
"And Sector 7?" he asked.
Silence.
"Black..." akane asked.
"What does that mean."
"It means... we don't go there anymore."
Akane didn't react"
Training grounds below.
But not like before.
No formations.
No drills.
Just survival.
Small groups.
Independent movement.
Close combat.
Fast kills.
"We stopped training soldiers," heavy said.
"We train survivors now."
A soldier sparred below.
Brutal.
Efficient.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
Akane watched.
"He's great" he said.
"The world cant get together Mr. akane"
"We need heavy numbers"
Another screen activated.
Footage.
Infected.
But not the same.
Some moved in packs.
Organized.
Some stayed still—
Watching.
Others—
Signaling.
Calling more.
"They observe before attacking now," Heavy said.
"They learn patterns."
"Some don't attack at all," Aira added.
"They track."
Akane's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Evolution."
"Or adaptation," Assault muttered.
The screen shifted again.
Different infected.
A massive one—
Heavy.
Shielding others.
"Another tank type," Heavy said.
Another—
Thin.
Fast.
Dragging a soldier away.
"They've...evolved even more"
"What was once weak infecteds"
"Dominated our worlds"
Then—
One bloated.
Unstable.
It exploded.
Acid spreading.
"Bombers." the commander muttered.
Akane watched all of it.
Silent.
"And more we haven't classified," Aira said.
"They're increasing."
Something Worse
The screen glitched.
Just for a moment.
A different clip.
Short.
A group of infected.
Not moving.
Not attacking.
Facing a structure.
A wall.
A door.
Watching it.
Then—
One turned.
Looked directly at the camera.
Feed cut.
Silence.
"They study us," Aira said quietly.
Akane didn't respond.
But he remembered.
The ones that watched him.
The Outside.
Became dangerous.
"It's not just Nexarion," Assault said.
The screen changed.
Other planets.
Quatarious—
Still unstable.
Alysium—
Partially overrun.
Calum—
Marked contaminated.
"It spread everywhere," Assault continued.
"We're not containing it anymore."
"We're surviving it," Heavy finished.
"It scattered accros space"
Akane absorbed everything.
Without reaction.
"Three years," Aira said again.
"You don't remember anything?"
Akane stood still.
"Fragments."
"What kind?"
A pause.
"Movement."
"Speed."
"Silence."
He looked at his hand.
"And something else."
"What?"
"Not human."
Silence.
No one laughed.
"Is... There any planets that isn't infected?" Akane asked.
"Only three is temporarily safe" the commander replied.
Arkhon.
Arkeia.
Voidspire.
An alarm cut through.
Sharp.
Immediate.
"ALL UNITS—YELLOW LINE BREACH—REPEAT—YELLOW LINE BREACH—"
The map shifted.
A zone flashing.
Close.
Too close.
"Already?" Assault said.
"It never stopped," Heavy replied.
Aira looked at Akane.
"You ready?"
Akane stepped forward.
No hesitation.
"I never stopped."
"Head towards sector E for supplies" the commander said.
"Only elites are allowed, your an exception"
"Don't let us down"
The squad moved.
Together.
But not the same.
Stronger.
Harder.
And Akane—
Something else entirely now.
Behind them—
Nexarion held.
Barely.
Ahead—
The next line.
And something waiting.