The Apex-Drop slammed into something wet and yielding, not metal or stone. A groan of tortured alloys screeched through the cabin, but the impact was shockingly muted, absorbed by vast, organic masses. Mireva, already braced, felt the sickening lurch as the entire structure twisted, tearing free of the shattered shaft. Thick, viscous goo splattered across the viewing ports, obscuring the chaos outside. The graviton engine, though dead, still hummed faintly, its internal capacitors discharging. They were embedded, half-submerged, in a cavern of living flesh. The air grew thick and warm, smelling of ozone, hot diesel, and something profoundly, disgustingly alive. “Status,” Mireva barked, her voice flat, as she unlatched her harness. She didn't wait for a reply, already assessing the buckling ceiling panels. Kazem coughed, a wet rattle, as he disentangled himself. His hand went to his ribs, where Mireva had patched the acid burn. “Structural integrity compromised. Minimal egress points. And… that.” He gestured with his chin towards the viewports. The goo-covered glass now showed pulsing veins, an internal architecture of glistening, fibrous tissue. Mireva pulled out her comm-panel. The SOS signal came in closer, sharper, overlaid with wet, sputtering static. “He’s here. Somewhere in this… biological mess.” They found a twisted hatchway, ripped free from its hinges, leading into a cavernous space. The Abyssal Hive had digested the city's lower tier into a swamp of rotting machinery and living meat. Jagged, ossified conduits ran like arteries along the ceiling, leaking a black, oily ichor onto the slick, spongy floor. Ruptured pipelines, still spurting coolant and steam, were encased in thick, chitinous growths. Kazem leveled his silenced pulse rifle, its integrated targeter projecting a red grid across the fungal walls. “Mind the spores. Some species react… explosively.” Mireva scoffed. “I’ve navigated worse. Keep your eyes open for anything with more than four legs.” Her own weapon, a compact, folding rail rifle, locked into place. The hum of its internal accumulator barely cut through the wet hiss and squelch of the Hive itself. They moved with practiced synchronization, Mireva leading, her senses tuned to the subtlest vibrations in the spongy floor, Kazem covering her six, his rifle swinging with fluid grace. The SOS signal intensified, guiding them deeper into the labyrinth. The air grew heavier, warmer, resonating with a low, rhythmic thrumming. Through a fissure in a wall of calcified machinery, they saw him. Daris Krov. But not as Mireva remembered. He was hunched over a sparking control console, tendrils of bio-luminescent fungus clinging to his back and arms, pulsing faintly. One of his eyes was milky white, dilated, the other a jaundiced yellow. His skin had a waxy sheen, and his left arm, encased in a hardened, chitinous shell, tapered into a wickedly curved claw, dripping with a viscous, green fluid. “Daris,” Mireva stated, her voice devoid of surprise. The sight of him, corrupted, was simply another variable in a hostile environment. Daris slowly turned. A wide, manic grin split his face, revealing teeth that were too sharp, too numerous. He laughed, a shrill, liquid rattle rasping through his throat. “Kanz. And the pretty boy. Took you long enough.” He spread his mutated arm toward the pulsing, meat-slick walls. “Admire my work? The city grid… a simple flick of a switch. All those sweet, sweet frequencies, just calling to the Hive.” His laughter turned into a choking cough, and a trickle of green fluid ran from the corner of his mouth. “You betrayed Oskara,” Kazem said, his voice flat, dangerously calm. His barrel stayed fixed on Daris, unwavering. “Betrayed?” Daris wheezed, shaking his head. “I merely helped things along. This place… it’s a living power source. A new beginning. And you… you’re just fuel.” His gaze lingered on Mireva, a possessive, predatory glint in his corrupted eye. “And to think, I almost had you, Kanz. Before this pretty boy tied you down.” He lunged, a sudden, horrifying burst of speed. The chitinous claw extended, aiming directly for Mireva’s throat. The green fluid dripped from its tip, smoking faintly as it hit the bio-infused floor. Kazem moved before Mireva could even bring her weapon up. His rifle spat once, a muffled, concussive snap. Daris’s head snapped back. A small, dark hole appeared between his mutated eyes. He froze mid-lunge, his body spasming once, then collapsed in a wet heap. The fungal growths on his back pulsed erratically before fading to a dull, sickly gray. Mireva simply watched the body fall, then refocused on the comm-panel. “Another obstacle cleared. The signal is—.” “Did he really think he could touch you?” Kazem muttered, his voice a low growl, still staring at Daris’s lifeless form. His finger twitched on the trigger guard. It wasn't a question posed to Mireva, but a statement of terrifying possessiveness. His shoulders stayed rigid with a vicious, quiet rage that had nothing to do with the Hive. Daris, surprisingly, wasn't quite dead. His eyes, though dull, fluttered open. A bubbly wheeze rattled between his teeth. His gaze fixed on Mireva, a mocking triumph in the last vestiges of his corrupted mind. “You… you’re so blind, Kanz. Always have been.” He coughed, a wet rattle that brought up more green fluid. “That… pact you signed… not a contract. A binding.” He turned his head slightly, his gaze shifting to Kazem, then back to Mireva. A final, wet choke escaped him. “Til… death… do us part. And he… he knew.”

Til Death Do Us Part