Jorlan Kryk’s voice, a cacophony of agony and triumph, reverberated through the obsidian vault, shaking the bedrock. The drill, a monstrous conduit pumping corruption, pulsed faster, its dark sheen reflecting the scarlet glow in Jorlan’s distended eyes. The colossal fortress rumbled, its heavy joints grinding as Tassio, still sprawled on his cyber-silk throne, lazily observed the transformation. “God of Kravos,” Tassio echoed, a faint sneer touching his lips. “A bit much, isn’t it? I recall you had trouble with basic navigation just last week.” Jorlan roared, the sound thick with metallic grinding. A lash of pure, scarlet psionic force erupted from his chest, striking forward like an uncoiling whip. It slammed into the fortress's flank with concussive force. Plating groaned in protest as a massive sheet of metal buckled inward. The walking redoubt skidded across the magma-slicked floor, throwing sparks until its shoulder ground against the rock wall, showering obsidian dust. Tassio, thrown from his throne by the impact, landed with an ungraceful thump, cursing under his breath. The cyber-silk had cushioned the fall, but his back still registered the jarring force. He pushed himself up, brushing dark dust from his uniform. Vellera, braced against the redoubt's inner plating, lifted her plasma rifle and fired. The shots, normally enough to vaporize a lesser demon, merely spattered against Jorlan’s metallic skin, sizzling briefly before evaporating into harmless steam. “Ineffective, little warrior!” Jorlan boomed, his form swelling, more wires burrowing into the drill. “This fusion makes me impregnable! The core’s defenses are mine, its power my very blood!” [Warning: Planetary Core Anchoring Protocol initiated. Time to irreversible dimensional lock: 00:09:47] The cold diagnostic prompt flashed in Tassio’s vision. Nine minutes. He rubbed his temples, a headache forming behind his eyes. “This is why I hate deadlines,” he grumbled, more to himself than anyone. “Always so… urgent.” Vellera didn’t wait for his next half-hearted suggestion. “Vanguard! Flank him! Disrupt the drill’s conduits!” she shouted, her voice ringing with the authority of a true field commander. The three reanimated warlords, grotesque amalgamations of demon flesh and repurposed bionics, surged forward. The first, a multi-limbed behemoth dubbed ‘Shrieker’ for its piercing sonic attacks, lunged at the nearest exposed section of the drill to sever the cables. Jorlan merely laughed, a sound like grinding tectonic plates. His eyes flared scarlet, and with a flick of his wrist, a ripple of raw force tore outward. Shrieker froze mid-air, its multiple limbs splaying out as if caught in an unseen current. Then, with a dry crunch, the construct collapsed into a compacted sphere, its alloy frame buckling before detonating in a shower of shrapnel. [Unit Shrieker: Deactivated. Biological component: Liquefied. Synthetic component: Pulverized.] “Pathetic!” Jorlan sneered. His gaze, now focused and malevolent, snapped to Vellera. “You think these puppets can save you? You, who cling to a ghost of a world, when true power awaits in the Abyss!” Another psionic ribbon, thicker and faster than the first, lashed forward. Vellera reacted instantly, dodging left, her plasma rifle blazing. But Jorlan was faster. The energy arced, slamming into the wall behind her with enough force to shatter the obsidian. Jagged shards of rock exploded outward, catching Vellera in the blast. She cried out, pain lancing through her as she was hurled across the cavern, slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. Her helmet cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading across the visor. She slumped against the rock, her breath rattling, her rifle clattering to the floor. A thin stream of blood, stark against her pale skin, trickled from her temple. Tassio's posture shifted. The familiar numbness gave way to cold focus. His vision narrowed. The booming cacophony of Jorlan’s voice, the groaning of the drill, the urgent prompts from the Mortis-Engine – all faded into a dull roar. Only Vellera, slumped and bleeding, occupied his focus. [Warning: Biological lifeform ‘Vellera Dask’ critical. Multiple blunt force trauma. Cranial integrity compromised. Probability of immediate collapse: High.] “You will regret that,” Tassio said, devoid of his usual drawl, stepping clear of the wreckage. The air around Tassio shimmered. His pupils burned with a flat, pale light. [Activating Mortis-Engine Overload Protocol. Warning: Irreversible life-force consumption of active units. Confirm?] “Confirmed,” Tassio hissed, his gaze never leaving Vellera’s still form. He extended a hand, palm open, towards the two remaining warlords. They stiffened, their mechanical joints whining in protest as an invisible draw tore at their frames. Ribbons of pale, spectral light ripped from their chassis, pouring into Tassio’s open palm. The constructs convulsed and withered, their scavenged parts peeling away into rust. Their core energy drained away, channeled and refined in seconds. [Unit ‘Shrapnel’: Deactivated. Biological component: Vaporized. Synthetic component: Disintegrated.] [Unit ‘Gargant’: Deactivated. Biological component: Vaporized. Synthetic component: Disintegrated.] “What are you doing?!” Jorlan bellowed, stepping back. The power radiating from Tassio was unlike anything he had ever felt – pure, concentrated death, weaponized and refined. The pale light in Tassio’s hand shrank and solidified into a blade of raw necromantic force. It was neither forged iron nor living tissue, but dense solidified decay. Its surface drank the light, leaving only a void-like sheen. He moved, not with the languid grace he usually displayed, but with an explosive burst of speed that defied his casual posture. One moment he stood beside the breached hull; the next, he lunged across the chamber, the edge tracing a pale streak through the dim air. Tassio drove the blade into Jorlan's sternum, piercing the cluster where the cabling anchored into the core drill. There was no clang of metal, only the quiet hiss of decaying alloy and severed cabling. Tassio twisted the blade, severing conduits, disrupting the flow of corrupted power. Jorlan howled, the sound choking on a wet, mechanical rattle. Blood, black and oily, burst from his mouth, running down his chin, but a grotesque grin spread across his face. “Fool…” Jorlan rasped, his eyes burning with a triumphant madness even as his newly acquired power flickered. “You think you’ve won? You think… you can just cut out the cancer I’ve become?” He coughed, a spray of dark blood staining Tassio’s pristine uniform. “Killing me now… The moment my new heart stops… It will trigger a failsafe. A gift from your past self, Architect. The core… it detonates. The planet… it self-destructs.”

The Core of Kravos