The black brine clawed at Taldin’s eyes, a thousand icy needles piercing his skin. His lungs screamed, not just from the lack of air, but from the searing toxin of the polluted water. The pain of real drowning twisted with the psychic agony of his internal mutation, making every cell in his body revolt. His vision blurred, the darkness absolute, punctuated only by the faint, greenish glow of alien bioweapon particles. Nimari was a dead weight in his arms, her body limp against his chest, her eyes wide and unseeing, a thin stream of blood blooming from a gash on her temple. The barbed coil around his ribs tightened, shearing into muscle, dragging them down through the dark as hydrostatic pressure mounted against his ears. [Spore-Resonance Cortex: Oxygen Deprivation Critical. System Overload Imminent. Hostile Organism Integrity 99.7%] The medic in him refused to yield. He could not leave her to drown. A desperate, primal instinct seized him. He had one breath left, a burning ember in his chest. He turned his head, his lips finding hers in the murky darkness. He forced his mouth open, pushing his last precious oxygen into her still lungs, a reckless gamble against the brine. Her lips were cold, unresponsive, but as he emptied himself, a flicker — a tiny, almost imperceptible gasp — escaped her. A pulse of life. Then the coil contracted again, grinding rib against rib until salt water burned his throat. The Velkiri beast’s grip was absolute, its intent clear. It meant to drag them into the pitch-black floor to dissolve them into biomatter. No. Not like this. Fury replaced the panic. He had drowned once in the quarantine wards, helpless; he would not expire here as food for an alien aberration. He squeezed his eyes shut, ignoring the blinding flashes of his protesting mutation. He reached deep into the Cortex, triggering every thrall he held in reserve, from vermin to Sentinel, uncaring of the phantom drowning that threatened to tear his mind apart. [Spore-Resonance Cortex: Mass Spectral Genesis Initiated. Catastrophic Energy Drain. Host Integrity Compromised.] The abyssal water around them erupted. Not with bubbles, but with form. Hundreds of shadow shapes, black as soot, burst forth. They were the husks of forgotten sailors, mutated deep-sea creatures, the enforcers Roric had commanded, and the dozens of nameless wanderers from the mass grave. They swarmed in a silent, ravenous pack, their blackened claws ripping into the behemoth's hide. Sentinel Krynos drove forward through the current, his shadowy lance a blur. He ripped into one of the beast's immense gills, a vulnerable flap of raw, pulsing flesh hidden beneath its armored hide. The other shades followed in a churning torrent, tearing into the exposed organs and thick alien conduits. The monstrosity thrashed, shockwaves vibrating through the deep. The barbed coil around Taldin and Nimari loosened, then snapped, whipping away into the black. The gargantuan bulk convulsed, churning the water into a frothing vortex. The sheer force of its thrashing propelled them upwards, a violent trajectory away from the crushing darkness, back toward the faint, distant shimmer of the surface. They broke the surface with a gasp, Taldin sputtering, dragging Nimari onto a half-submerged chunk of the Bastion's outer hull. The air, despite its toxic metallic tang, felt like a blessed balm. His lungs burned, his head throbbed, and every nerve ending screamed, but he was alive. Nimari coughed, water streaming from her mouth, her eyes fluttering open, a raw, primal scream escaping her lips. She was alive. [Spore-Resonance Cortex: Threat Neutralized. Dopamine Surge: Extreme. Host Regeneration Initiated.] A rush of pure dopamine hit Taldin's brainstem, washing the phantom drowning away and leaving numbness in place of burned nerve endings. Then, from the roiling depths where the carcass sank, a new shape tore free—a towering silhouette of black smoke and ink. The aquatic titan rose above the waves, its massive, shadowed brow dipping in absolute submission. It bowed to its new master. Behind it, ranks of dark-limbed horrors surfaced across the slick, empty sockets turned toward the man who had slaughtered their master.

Breath and Blood