Panting, drenched in cold sweat and burning alien blood, Xylon rolled off the corpse. He lay on the hard ground, staring at the yellow-orange sky, his breath coming in ragged, painful gasps. The acidic burn on his arm was a throbbing agony.
Silence returned, broken only by Selene's footsteps as she walked over, her boots crunching on glass. She stood over him, looking down. Her uniform was splattered with ichor, but she seemed unharmed. She held his field knife. She offered it to him, handle first.
"Not bad, Rice-Loving Warrior," she said. There was a new note in her voice. Not warmth, but a hard-won respect. "Stupid. Reckless. But not bad. Getting up close with a knife when you have no Aether is either the bravest or dumbest thing I've seen. Get up. The burn needs neutralizing."
Xylon took the knife and struggled to his feet. His legs trembled. Selene produced a small canister from her belt and sprayed a cool, gray foam over the ichor-burned skin on his hand and forearm. The immediate, searing pain dulled to a deep ache.
"We need to report the contact and confirm the swarm is cleared," she said, her eyes scanning the perimeter once more. "You scan. I'll cover."
Xylon retrieved the panoscopic scanner. The screen was clear. No orange static. Just their two green dots and the topography. He let out a shuddering breath. "Area clear."
Selene keyed her comms unit. "Selene to Fort Command. Sweep Sigma-Seven. Contact confirmed. One Skitterling swarm, ten count. Swarm neutralized. No casualties. Proceeding to complete sweep grid. Over."
A crackled acknowledgment came back.
As they prepared to move on, Xylon felt a strange, hollow vibration in his chest. It wasn't a sound, but a feeling, deep in his sternum. A faint, discordant resonance. He looked at Selene, but she gave no indication she felt anything.
Then, his System interface flashed, unbidden, in his vision. Not text. A visual. A circular, complex diagram he didn't understand, like a shattered, spiraling maze, pulsed once with a dull gray light at its very center. It was there for a second, then gone.
But the vibration in his chest remained, a ghostly echo.
_
New Secret Achievement Unlocked!
'First Blood on the Scarred Plains'
Reward: +15 Achievement Points, +5 Chaos Points
_
The points updated. 52 Achievement Points. 5 Chaos Points. The Shop Unlock Progress ticked up to 55%.
"You alright?" Selene asked, watching his face.
"I… yes. Just… adrenaline crash."
She nodded, accepting it. "It happens. Move out. We have three more sectors."
They continued the sweep. The encounter had changed the dynamic. Selene was slightly less rigid, her instructions more explanatory. Xylon's senses felt heightened. Every shadow in the slag, every odd-shaped rock, was a potential threat. The strange, hollow vibration in his core was a constant, low-level distraction. It felt… alien. Not part of him, yet somehow connected.
They completed the next two sectors without incident. The sun was at its zenith, a bleary eye in the haze. As they entered the final sector, a narrow canyon of wind-scoured rock, Selene halted again. She motioned for the scanner.
Xylon handed it over. She studied it, her brow furrowed. "Picking up a faint energy signature. Deep in the canyon. Not beast-like. More… mechanical. Fading in and out."
"Draxmor?" Xylon asked, the word tasting like ash.
"Maybe. Or scavengers. Or a damaged fort probe from ages ago." She made a decision. "We investigate. Standard protocol for unidentified signals in the sweep zone. Stay close. And be ready for anything."
The canyon walls rose steeply on either side, casting deep, cool shadows. The wind was channeled into a constant, low moan. The scanner's signature led them to a secluded crevice, half-hidden by a rockfall. There, partially buried under rubble, was the source.
It was not Draxmor. It was not a probe.
It was a suit of armor.
Or what remained of one. It was bulky, ancient-looking, constructed of a bronze-colored alloy now pitted and scarred. It lay on its back, one arm missing, the chestplate caved in as if by a tremendous blow. Moss and strange, phosphorescent lichen grew over it. From a shattered port on the shoulder, a faint, intermittent green light pulsed weakly—the energy signature.
"By the Aether…" Selene breathed, kneeling cautiously beside it. "This is… Imperium design. But ancient. Pre-Great Fracture era. Centuries old at least." She ran a gloved hand over the crest on the chestplate, brushing away grime. It was a stylized, soaring bird—the old emblem of the Aetherion Imperium, before the seven nations fully crystallized.
"What's it doing here?" Xylon whispered. The hollow feeling in his chest intensified, throbbing in time with the armor's dying light.
"A lost patrol. A scout who never returned." Selene examined the caved-in chest. "This damage… it's not from beasts. This is a weapon impact. A concentrated Aether-lance, maybe. This was a soldier killed in a battle that history forgot."
As she said it, Xylon's vision swam. Not a faintness, but an overlay. For a second, he didn't see the mossy, ancient armor. He saw it pristine, gleaming under a different sun. He saw a soldier in it, turning, raising an arm in defense. He saw a searing lance of crimson light—not blue Imperium Aether, not violet chaotic energy, but a deep, violent red—spear through the chestplate. He heard a scream, cut short, echoing not in the canyon but in the hollow space behind his own ribs.
The vision vanished as quickly as it came. He stumbled back a step, gasping.
"Enderwood?" Selene was on her feet, rifle half-raised, scanning for a new threat.
"I'm… I saw…" He shook his head, pointing a trembling finger at the armor. "That red light. Did you… feel anything?"
Selene looked from him to the armor, her gray eyes sharp with renewed suspicion. "I feel that we've found a historical relic and you're having a stress reaction. We need to report this and…"
A new sound cut her off. Not chittering. Not wind.
It was a deep, subsonic thrum, felt in the bones more than heard. It vibrated up through the canyon floor. The moss on the ancient armor shivered. The faint green light in its shoulder port flared once, brightly, and died completely.