The sky above the Vault burned silver as Lia Vrissa's armada arrayed itself in Falcon Bay. Dozens of sleek corvettes and frigates, their hulls etched with the Vesper Pact's sigil, glinted in the dawn. Julius Reyes stood at the edge of the landing platform, Seraphel beside him, watching the ships descend through the swirling mists.
Brinley marched up, rifle slung across his back. "Never thought I'd get a warm welcome from a fleet."
Vara joined them, folding her arms. "They know what we've done. The Forge Seed's activation sent tremors through every network."
Below, the Hollow Kin engineers guided transport craft in and out of the Vault's cavernous hanger. Supplies, munitions, and wounded fighters poured ashore. The hum of industry rose like a heartbeat beneath the vaulted ceilings.
At the foot of the ramp, Commander Vrissa—tall, resolute, with a cybernetic eye that glowed pale blue—awaited. Her uniform bore both naval rank and the minimalist markings of a resistance commander.
Julius descended the steps. "Commander. Thank you for coming."
She inclined her head. "Symbiote Zero deserves every ship we can spare. The call went out sector–wide. You inspired more than just the Pact."
He glanced at the gathered crews. "This is more than a battle," he said. "It's a new alliance. We stand not only for our worlds, but for every life the Source would consume."
Selene appeared at Vrissa's side, datapad in hand. "Fleet status: defensive perimeter established. Shield generators online. Supply lines secure for seventy-two hours."
"Then we push forward," Julius declared. "We cannot leave the Vault idle. The Hive will regroup, and echoes of the Architect may still slumber beyond our reach."
Vrissa's eye flickered. "Agreed. I propose a two–pronged operation: a task force to clear the surrounding trench and ocean approaches, and a strike group to hunt down Hive pods before they mature."
Seraphel stepped forward. "The Forge Seed can broadcast a cleansing pulse through the vacuum cables. It will purge nearby Hive growth."
"So we purge first," Vrissa summarized. "Then we hunt."
Brinley grinned. "Sounds like a fun weekend."
Vara shook her head. "Fun is a four–letter word, Cap'n."
The Fleet Admiral smiled. "All units to stations. Launch in ten minutes."
As they dispersed, Vrissa pulled Julius aside. "Listen—my scouts found something odd on the outer ring. Patterns of Hive activity… but it's been reorganizing to avoid our scans."
Julius frowned. "A stealth net?"
"Worse," she said. "It's a living minefield—bioluminescent pods that detonate on approach."
He nodded. "We'll clear it."
In the hangar bay, the Vanguard mustered: Vadim-class gunships, marine dropsuits, and modified Echelon skimmers. Each pilot carried personal symbiote munitions—cluster grenades, neural dampeners, and, for the first time, Forge Seed–infused warheads.
Julius climbed into the command skimmer, seat catching him in mesh of biofiber. He looked at Seraphel's radiant form shimmering on the holo–screen. "Ready?" she asked in his mind.
He flexed his armored fingers. "Let's give them hope."
Outside, the corvettes speared into the bay like comets. The first skimmers launched in tight V–formation, leaving trails of emerald light. Lia Vrissa's flagship, Hope's Vanguard, led the charge.
Julius's skimmer banked around the Vault's spires, engines flaring. Below, the bioluminescent minefield lay in quiet rows—beautiful and deadly.
He activated the Forge pulse. A wave of living energy surged through his hull, pulsing outward in emerald rings. Mines detonated in silent blossoms of light as Echelon's interfaces neutralized their triggers.
The path cleared, the Fleet surged forward.
Above the fractured sea, the dawn of the Vanguard shone bright—hope carried on wings of light and steel, ready to confront the coming storm.