Luca crouched behind a pile of rubble, his [Ghost Protocol] active, watching Chris's mech stomp into the fortress's main mustering ground.

The area was massive, easily a hundred meters across. Vexillari defenders had fortified the space, turning it into a killbox with elevated positions and interlocking fields of fire.

Chris's Mechanized Infantry Platoon entered through the breach behind the Heavy Assault Company, their footsteps shaking the ground. Eighteen war machines, each one ten meters of armor and weapons, forming a line that dominated the entire chamber.

"Mechanized Infantry, suppressing fire," Chris's voice came over the command channel.

The mechs opened up simultaneously.

Rotary plasma cannons roared, streams of blue fire tearing across the chamber. The elevated Vexillari positions exploded under concentrated fire, chitin and resin vaporizing. Barricades disintegrated. Insectoid defenders died by the dozens, their weapons useless against mech armor.

Chris's mech stood at the center of the formation, his jump jets firing in short bursts to reposition. He'd land, fire, jump again. Each movement calculated, each burst of plasma eliminating threats with mechanical precision.

He's actually good at this.

Luca raised his sniper rifle, his scope tracking a [Vexillari Swarmer] that had survived the initial barrage. The insectoid was scrambling toward a heavy weapon emplacement.

Not happening.

Luca triggered [Target Lock Assist]. The swarmer was instantly highlighted in his HUD, a red silhouette with trajectory data overlaying its frantic movements. His rifle's aim correction kicked in, the reticle sticking to the target's head.

He squeezed the trigger.

The shot caught the Vexillari in what passed for its head. Chitin exploded. The creature dropped, its weapon clattering unused.

[Combat data accumulating...] [Calculating... XP] [Calculating... Credits]

"Nice shot, Commander," Gant'Jiran said over the squad comms beside him.

The Heavy Assault Company used the covering fire to push deeper, their formations advancing while the mechs held the mustering ground. Danny was visible near the front, his war hammer rising and falling as he carved through defenders that got too close.

"Reconnaissance elements, move up," Luca ordered, keeping his [Ghost Protocol] on as he signaled his company forward.

Squad leaders gathered around Luca, their expressions expectant. Waiting for orders.

Luca pulled up his visor's tactical display, data downloaded from high command. He triggered [Pathfinder's Intuition], and for a few precious seconds, the incomplete orbital scans sharpened. His brain rapidly processed the fortress layout, and his interface highlighted the most efficient routes through the interior.

"Listen up," he said, transmitting the updated map to all squad leaders. "We're splitting into squads of ten. Our objective is to find and disable the shield generators powering this fortress."

He highlighted multiple locations, organizing the assault vectors based on what [Pathfinder's Intuition] had shown him. "Intelligence suggests generators are deep in the fortress. We don't have exact positions. So we search. Each squad takes a different route. When you find a generator, mark it and call it in. We coordinate strikes to take them all down simultaneously."

The squad leaders studied their routes, nodding understanding.

"Active camouflage whenever possible," Luca continued. "We're scouts and snipers, not assault troops. Find the targets, mark them, avoid engagement unless necessary."

"You have your routes," Gant'Jiran added. "Move out. Maintain comms discipline."

The squads dispersed, melting into the fortress passages. Within minutes, only Luca, Gant'Jiran, and his squad had been left behind.

"We're taking the central approach," Luca said, his tactical display highlighting a route that looked promising. "If the primary generators are anywhere, they're deep."

"Most dangerous route," Gant'Jiran observed.

"Also, the most important." Luca didn't mention his secondary objective. The fog generators. Finding those was critical. "And we're the best equipped to handle it."

"Lead the way, Commander."

The mustering ground disappeared behind them as they entered a passage that led deeper into the fortress.

The passage opened into something Luca wasn't prepared for.

Not a street. Not human architecture with neat lines and recognizable patterns.

An organic labyrinth stretched before them, three-dimensional and wrong. Structures grew from walls and ceiling, connected by bridges of hardened resin that curved in ways that made Luca's eyes hurt. Passages branched at impossible angles, some wide enough for vehicles, others barely large enough to crawl through. The whole thing pulsed with bioluminescent veins that ran through the walls like exposed arteries.

"Jesus Christ," Luca muttered.

"The fortress designation was accurate, but incomplete," Gant'Jiran said, scanning the area. "The Vexillari don't build like we do. They grow. This entire structure is semi-organic."

Luca's mind raced, trying to process what he was seeing. His [Combat Predictive Modeling] was struggling to map it, his interface flickering as it tried to categorize architecture that didn't follow any recognizable pattern.

"You're wondering how they established this on our world," Gant'Jiran said, reading his body language. "Nanite technology. The Vexillari seeded it long before they arrived."

He moved to a nearby wall, his clawed hand scraping the surface. Resin flaked away, revealing metal underneath that was partially fused with biological matter.

"They drop nanite payloads from orbit," Gant'Jiran continued. "The machines burrow underground, consume local materials, and construct according to programmed specifications. The fortress grows as much as it's built."

Nanites and biology. Self-replicating construction that's half machine, half organism.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Luca activated [Systems Analysis Burst]. His interface lit up with acoustic signatures of power conduits running through walls, but they weren't arranged in any grid pattern he recognized. They spiraled, twisted, doubled back on themselves.

"Got multiple generator signatures," Luca said, marking targets on his tactical display. "But they're everywhere. Not centralized like our briefing suggested."

"The Vexillari don't think like you do," Gant'Jiran said. "They don't put important things in the center where they're obvious. They scatter them. Redundancy through distribution."

Shit. This is going to take forever.

Luca's communicator crackled with squad reports.

"Squad Three reporting. Found something that might be a generator cluster, eastern sector. Hard to tell."

"Squad Seven. We're lost. Repeat, we're lost. These passages don't make sense."

"Squad Twelve. Contact. Contact! We're—"

The transmission cut off in a burst of static and screaming.

Luca froze. "Squad Twelve, report. Squad Twelve, come in."

Nothing.

"All squads, maintain comms discipline," Luca ordered, keeping his voice steady. "Report your status."

"Squad Three, we're good. Still searching."

"Squad Seven, we found our way out. Moving to new sector."

"Squad Nine, we've got movement. Lots of it. Falling back."

"Squad Fourteen, contact. We're engaged. They're everywhere!"

More static. More screaming.

Luca's heart hammered. This was falling apart. Fast.

"Commander," Gant'Jiran said quietly. "We need to move. Standing still makes us targets."

Luca nodded, forcing himself to focus. They pushed deeper into the fortress, moving through buildings and rooms that felt like the inside of some massive insect. The walls seemed to pulse. The floor was uneven, covered in the same resin that coated everything else.

Doorways appeared and disappeared as they moved, some sealed by membranes that parted when approached, others guarded by clusters of what looked like sensory organs. What had Danny said? Pheromones.

"Squad Four is gone," a voice reported over comms. "Sector Delta. Heavy resistance confirmed. We're pulling back."

"Squad Six, we found generators. Marking location now. Wait. Contact. Contact front!"

The transmission dissolved into weapons fire and alien screeching.

Luca moved to the next doorway, his rifle up, his heart hammering so hard he could feel it in his throat. The Varnathi infiltrators fanned out behind him, their camouflage flickering as they edged forward. They moved with a silence that was both impressive and terrifying, like watching predators hunt.

"Squad Eight reporting. We found something. Big energy signature. Could be primary power. Moving to investigate."

"Negative, Squad Eight," Luca said. "Mark it and hold position. We need to—"

"Contact! They were waiting for us! We're—"

Static.

"Squad Eight, report!" Luca called. "Squad Eight!"

Nothing.

Gant'Jiran grabbed his shoulder. "Commander. We need to fall back. This isn't working."

"We need those generators," Luca said, but his voice was shaking. They were losing people. Fast.

"Squad Two is down," another voice reported. "Repeat, Squad Two is down. No survivors."

"Squad Eleven, we're trapped. They're coming from everywhere. We can't—"

More static. More death.

Then Luca felt it. A vibration through the floor. Not the impact of footsteps, but something else. Something moving through the walls themselves.

The lead Varnathi infiltrator, a female with dark gray fur, raised her fist. Everyone froze.

The vibration stopped.

Silence.

Luca's [Combat Predictive Modeling] screamed warnings, but there was nothing to see. Just the empty passage ahead, the pulsing bioluminescent walls, the—

One of the infiltrators exploded in a spray of blood and fur.

No warning. No sound. One second she was there, the next she was in pieces scattered across the resin floor.

"Contact!" Gant'Jiran shouted. "Invisible hostile!"

Luca's rifle came up, but there was nothing to shoot. Nothing visible. Just the vibration in the floor, moving fast.

Another infiltrator died. This time Luca saw something, a distortion in the air, like heat shimmer, massive and low to the ground. It moved with terrifying speed, a blur that left blood in its wake.

"Pulse Scanner!" Gant'Jiran barked. "Now!"

Luca triggered [Pulse Scanner]. His interface flooded with electromagnetic data, painting the world in wireframe. And there, visible for a split second before it disappeared again, was the creature.

Thirty feet long. Segmented body like a millipede, but each segment was armored with chitin plates that shifted and interlocked as it moved. Dozens of legs, each ending in razor-sharp claws. And at the front, a cluster of mandibles that opened and closed with hydraulic force.

[Vexillari Shade Hunter - Level 73]

The pulse faded. The creature vanished again.

"Spread out!" Luca ordered. "Don't cluster! Use your scanners!"

The infiltrators scattered, their rifles tracking empty air. Luca activated [Pulse Scanner] again. Another flash. The creature was circling them, moving along the walls like gravity didn't exist.

It struck.

A Varnathi male died screaming, his body torn in half by mandibles that appeared from nowhere. The creature was already gone by the time his corpse hit the floor.

Luca switched to his suppressed blaster, the weapon better suited for close quarters. He triggered [Pulse Scanner] again. Flash. The creature was behind them now, its segmented body coiling like a snake.

"Gant'Jiran, your left!"

The Varnathi commander spun, firing blind. His plasma bolts hit nothing but wall, but the muzzle flash illuminated something. A shimmer. A distortion.

The creature lunged at him.

Luca triggered [Reflex Shot]. Time slowed. His blaster came up, firing three suppressed bolts where his instincts screamed the creature's head should be.

The first two missed. The third hit something solid.

The creature materialized, its camouflage failing as blue blood sprayed from a wound in its carapace. It screeched, the sound like metal tearing, and charged straight at Luca.

Shit shit shit.

Luca dove left. The creature's mandibles snapped shut where his head had been, close enough that he felt the wind from their closure.

He rolled to his feet, his hand already on his tomahawk. The creature was visible now, its camouflage damaged. It slithered, segments flowing over each other as it turned to face him.

Luca triggered [Trajectory Focus]. His interface calculated angles, momentum, weak points. The creature's armor was thick, but between the segments...

He threw.

The tomahawk spun, its plasma blade humming. It caught the creature between two segments, punching through softer tissue. Green ichor sprayed. The creature shrieked again, its body whipping around in pain.

"Fire!" Gant'Jiran ordered.

The remaining infiltrators opened up. Plasma bolts tore into the creature from multiple angles, finding gaps in its armor. It tried to activate its camouflage again, but the damage was too severe. It remained visible, dying in front of them.

Luca retrieved his tomahawk, yanking it free in a spray of ichor. The creature collapsed, its legs twitching as its nervous system shut down.

[Combat data accumulating...] [Calculating... XP] [Calculating... Credits]

[Item acquired: Sensor Microchip Array Schematic]

Luca looked at what remained of his squad. Three Varnathi dead. The others shaken but alive. And they still had a mission to complete.

Luca leaned against a wall, his breath coming in short gasps. This was a disaster. They'd walked into a meat grinder, and he'd sent them there.

Think. Think, goddammit.

"Commander, we've lost over half our squads," Gant'Jiran breathed. "We need to regroup."

"We will. But first, we find those generators." Luca's voice was steady now, the panic pushed down by sheer force of will.

They moved through the fortress with renewed urgency, following the energy signatures that [Systems Analysis Burst] was tracking. The passages grew narrower, the walls closing in. Luca could hear movement now, the skittering of clawed feet on resin, the chittering of Vexillari communication.

They were getting close.

His comm crackled. Static at first, then a voice he recognized.

"Luca." Zoe's voice was tight. "I'm heading down to your position. We're running out of time."

"What's your status?"

"We have air superiority... holding but barely. We've got incoming signatures on long-range scans. Big ones. Vexillari reinforcements, a lot of them. They'll be here in minutes."

Fuck.

"How many minutes?"

"Not enough. You need to find those generators now, or we're all dead."

Luca looked at Gant'Jiran, then at his tactical display. Their destination was close. Maybe two hundred meters. But two hundred meters in this nightmare could take forever.

"Team, this is Luca," Luca said, switching to the command channel. "I need everyone to converge on my position. Emily, Ryan, Joey, Danny, Chris. Everyone. We're out of time."

"Copy," Emily's voice came back. "En route."

"Moving," Danny confirmed, his words punctuated by the sound of his war hammer hitting something solid.

"Luca, we're making headway here," Ryan's voice protested, buzzing with the energy of a successful breach. "The sappers have cleared a path for Heavy Assault. We can take this whole section!"

"Ryan, we don't have time," Luca snapped, the losses of his own company lending his voice a raw edge. "The Vexillari are bringing in capital ships. The fog generators are our objective, not the fortress."

"But my platoon— we're right on the verge of—"

"Ryan," Luca cut him off, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous command. "Get your act together and get to my coordinates. Now. That's an order."

Luca took a breath, steadying himself. They were going to find those generators. They were going to complete this mission and get out of this portal.

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