The rhythmic seismic thumps grew louder, vibrating through the rusty grates beneath Fennik and Zariya’s boots. “The fracture,” Zariya muttered, her hand tightening on her unawakened blade. Her sharp pupils contracted, unsettled by an unease she had not felt even against the Weeping Behemoth. “It’s real. This isn’t Ostrom’s controlled chaos.” Fennik’s gaze was fixed on the rising shadow, his brow furrowed in concern. “It’s in pain,” he said softly, a statement Zariya found utterly bewildering. How could he discern such a thing from a monstrous roar and seismic tremors? “We need to move,” Zariya commanded, shaking off the paralysis of the moment. “If this thing breaches the surface, Ostrom will use it as justification to ‘cleanse’ every district down here. We have minutes, maybe seconds, before academy suppression teams arrive. And those squads won’t distinguish between blight-tainted and innocent.” Fennik nodded, his expression grim. “The supply depot, then. We need proof of the pumps before anyone else arrives.” They sprinted down winding access conduits while subterranean roars shuddered behind them. The military logistics depot, a sprawling block of stacked containers and automated cranes, loomed ahead in stark contrast to the crumbling slums. Zariya located a hidden access hatch she’d learned about during her cadet days – a maintenance vent just large enough for a person to squeeze through, bypassing the more obvious, heavily guarded entrances. The air within the vent was thick with the scent of processed rations and synthetic lubricants. Bix, who had been contentedly curled on Fennik’s shoulder, twitched his nose. A low rumble emanated from his fluffy form, not quite a growl, but a sound of profound anticipation. His eyes, usually half-closed in sleepy contentment, glittered with sudden, focused intent. “Snack,” the tiny mascot chirped, before launching himself into the gloom of the ventilation shaft, a dusty streak vanishing around a bend. Fennik called out, “Bix, wait! It’s dangerous in there!” But the creature was already out of sight. “He gets hungry sometimes,” Fennik offered apologetically to Zariya. Zariya merely grunted, already focused on the task at hand. “We’ll worry about your pet titan later. Right now, data. The depot’s main servers should be in the central command module.” They dropped into a cavernous storage hall, illuminated by harsh overhead lights. Towers of supply crates reached for the ceiling, creating a maze of shadows. The air hummed with the dormant energy of automated machinery. As they navigated the labyrinthine aisles, a voice, sharp and familiar, cut through the silence. “Well, well, if it isn’t Zariya of the fallen Zenith. I heard you’d finally embraced your true calling as a slum-dweller.” Zariya froze. Three figures emerged from behind a stack of nutrient paste containers: Kavina, Roric, and Jarek. The lead cadet, her short, severe haircut and polished uniform a stark reminder of Zariya’s former life, held a data-slate aloft. On its screen, Fennik’s face glared out from a ‘Wanted’ poster, branded a ‘Demon Lord’ by the media. “Look at this, Roric,” the squad leader sneered, her gaze raking over Zariya with contempt. “Our prodigy, consorting with a beast keeper. A *cleaner*. Didn’t you learn anything during training, Zariya? Non-combatants are the lowest rung. They’re meant to be invisible.” Roric chuckled, nudging Jarek. “He looks exactly like the posters. Probably smells like them too.” Zariya’s hand tightened on her blade, knuckles white. “He saved my life. And he’s doing more good down here than your pampered squad ever has.” Kavina scoffed. “Saved your life? Or mind-controlled you into servitude? Don’t be foolish. Headmaster Ostrom knows best. This ‘cleaner’ will be executed. It’s only a matter of time before our finest track him down. And you, it seems, are foolish enough to be caught in his web.” She gestured at Fennik, who stood a few paces behind Zariya, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “You imagine he’ll rescue you from us, Zariya? We’re not some crying behemoth. Our warding fields are real.” The cadet's hands began to glow with a pale, emerald light, her combat class, ‘Aura Weaver,’ manifesting. “He’s not a threat,” Zariya retorted, stepping forward to screen Fennik. “And you have no idea what’s actually happening.” Before Kavina could respond, a high-pitched squeak echoed from the ceiling duct. She glanced upward, a scowl crossing her face. “What was that?” A dusty ball of fur, round-eyed and eager, plummeted from the ceiling vent, landing with a soft *thump* directly onto her visor. She shrieked, her defensive barrier flaring to life, enveloping her helmet line in green energy. Bix, however, merely dug his tiny claws into the shimmering barrier, a happy rumble vibrating from his chest. He began to *chew*. “My ward!” the girl yelled again, her voice muffled by the creature's persistent munching. “It’s… he’s treating it like a chew toy!” At that exact moment, Fennik hurried around a stack of crates, his broom clutched tight. “Bix! There you are! I am so, so sorry! He gets a little overenthusiastic when he’s hungry.” Prying the pest free, she stared at Fennik, her emerald ward guttering weakly, depleted. “You… you *janitor*! You let your pet jump me?!” Roric and Jarek, recovering from their surprise, unleashed their primed skills. Roric, a ‘Kinetic Blaster,’ sent a concussive wave of force rippling towards Fennik. Jarek, a ‘Bolt Striker,’ summoned a crackling arc of blue current. Both blasts slammed into Fennik. The kinetic wave merely ruffled his hair. The current grounded harmlessly around him, dissipating into the floor with a soft sizzle. Fennik didn’t even flinch. He just looked apologetic. “Oh dear. Bix loves the taste of awakened energy. It’s rich in ambient Lattice particles.” Zariya watched, stunned. Elite volleys designed to shatter reinforced rift beasts failed to leave a scorch mark. Fennik, still clutching his broom, took a step forward. “Now, I really must insist you all calm down. This isn’t a very clean way to behave.” He began to sweep, not the floor, but the air around them, in broad, circular motions. The swirling fog particles that clung to the trio's awakened forms, remnants of subterranean drills, swept gently away. Roric and Jarek, inexplicably disoriented, stumbled. Their footing grew uncertain. Fennik, with a final, firm sweep, herded the three cadets into a tight corner between two towering crates. “Now,” Fennik said, his voice gentle but firm, “you stay there and think about why you thought it was okay to spread false information and make trouble for my friends.” He placed a single, discarded cleaning bucket in front of them, as if it were a physical barrier. The elites, strangely compliant, looked utterly baffled, unable to move past the imaginary boundary. Bix, meanwhile, had waddled back to Fennik, patting his tiny paw against Fennik’s leg. With a small, satisfied burp, he coughed up a gleaming, silver data-drive. Fennik picked it up, a small smile touching his lips. “Good boy, Bix. Did you find a snack in the data archives?” Zariya snatched the drive, her fingers flying across the interface of her wrist-mounted comm unit. Her breath caught on a gasp. “It’s all here. The schematics for the Miasma pumps, financial records of payments to the Shade Fist, even a direct order from Ostrom for the ‘Under-city Reclamation Project’... a full-scale purge.” The victory was short-lived. A blaring, klaxon alarm ripped through the depot, followed by an ominous grinding sound. The floor plates shuddered violently. Overhead lamps cut out, plunging them into momentary darkness before surging back, revealing cracks spiderwebbing across the ceiling. “What’s happening?!” the pinned cadet shrieked from her corner. “Emergency structural detachment,” Zariya gasped, reading an alert on her comm. “They’re jettisoning the whole depot!” The floor beneath them groaned, then ripped away with a deafening roar, plunging them into a dizzying freefall. Below, through the swirling clouds, they glimpsed the toxic, beast-ridden Earth rushing up to meet them with terrifying speed.

The Titan's Snack