Luna-9 Exterior – Perimeter Defense Grid
The sky cracked.
Drones streaked through the atmosphere like falling stars, but without the grace — all speed and menace, six dark obelisks of war buzzing in a perfect geometric formation. No insignias. No human interface ports. These weren't built to be piloted.
These were built to cleanse.
On the observation deck, Ethan's heart rate spiked — and the station's synced monitors followed suit. Aly felt it before the alert chimed.
"Hostile aerial units inbound. ETA: 42 seconds."
Maya was already at the console, jamming override codes into the defense net. "They're jamming our auto-turrets. These aren't just scouts — they're here to disarm and extract."
Kai holstered his shockblade, lips curling. "Anyone else feel flattered we're getting the deluxe assassination package?"
Lia locked and loaded. "They're not here to assassinate."
Aly turned to them, slow and deliberate, like a predator choosing whether to bare its fangs.
