I. Escape in Flames
The Veilborn shuddered violently, explosions rippling through its fractured hull as its warp drive screamed in failure. Red light bathed the cabin. "She's going to blow!" Zhenira yelled.
"There's no saving her. Pods—now!" Kael Rix barked, smashing the emergency ejection panel. One by one, the infiltration team launched in scattered pods, swallowed by fire and debris, each hurled across the upper reaches of the Uli system—landing on a nearby but lesser-known Mahasimu world: Darcile. The escape was only the beginning.
II. The Broken World
Darcile, once a remote mineral hub for Thalor colonists, had long been absorbed into the Mahasimu Empire's dominion. Official records listed it as minimally active—hosting only a surface mining colony, a command outpost, and several labor camps populated by a species known as the Kirell.
The Kirell were small, six-limbed insectoids, once native to the void-hollows of a forgotten moon. Their exoskeletons shimmered like obsidian glass, but their spirits had long been crushed by Mahasimu neural whips. The Shadowscourge used them as labor fodder—breaking them young and branding them into servitude.
On the surface, patrols were minimal—only skeletal shifts of support caste officers, minor functionaries, and a mid-tier garrison commander, Varn Takar, who ruled from a crumbling tower But beneath Darcile's sands, in a city buried by time and sealed by shadow, slumbered billions of Shadowscourge warriors and support caste in cryo-vaults—a dormant legion awaiting reactivation. And now… there were intruders.
III. Scattered and Hunted
Serath Vahn's pod slammed into a rocky slope, tearing through metal scaffolding and burying itself in the husk of a half-collapsed mining rig. She crawled from the pod coughing, rifle in hand, her suit patched and sputtering. Alone.
A mile away, Kael Rix and Zhenira landed in the outskirts of the Kirell slave camps. Disguised by damaged stealth suits, they crept between freight yards and labor lines, hiding amidst shadows and ash.
A fourth pod—unaccounted for—glided into the ruins of a Mahasimu listening post. Its occupant, Karn Thesh, was unconscious, his signal faint and flickering.
Each operative knew the mission: reunite, locate a hangar, and flee—carrying what they knew back to the Thalor High Council. But time was not with them.
IV. The Beast Awakens
High above the planet, aboard the Virex Dominatus, Admiral Kia triangulated the last known warp burst. "This… is Darcile," she noted. "Insignificant. But their trajectory places them there."
General Kizito, now brooding over the silence from the infiltration team, gave a simple order: "Send in low-orbit drones. Begin surface sweeps. If they landed… they're either dead—or hiding."
Kia's voice narrowed. "And if they find what lies beneath?" He didn't answer. His mind was elsewhere—calculating. Back on Darcile, seismic pulses began to register from the planet's core. Something ancient stirred—power grids flickered across hidden sublevels, whispering long-forgotten activation codes. The Shadowscourge were not merely slumbering—they were listening.
V. The Slaves and the Storm
In the bleak slave camps, Kael and Zhenira ducked into the shadows of a derelict supply depot. Around them, hundreds of Kirell chanted in hushed tones, their antennae trembling with fear and awe. "They know something," Zhenira whispered.
One Kirell elder crawled toward them. His voice was cracked but clear. "You are not Mahasimu. You bleed… differently."
Kael nodded, cautiously. "We're trying to get off-world." The elder touched the ground. "This world is a gate. Beneath it—death sleeps. You must not wake it." Zhenira glanced at Kael grimly. "Too late for that."
VI. A Queen's Shadow Descends
Far from Darcile, the Giza Mtuji streaked toward Gharar. Inside her obsidian quarters, Queen Suama stood at her viewing platform, adorned in regalia of sorrow and iron. Her Royal Guard surrounded her, silent, unwavering.
As the stars shifted outside, she prepared her confrontation—not with her enemies, but with her sister. With Princess Safi. And far below, Thalia, now broken in her soul-cell, clung to fading ambition.
Suama's voice called to Overseer Xal'taroth across the holochannel: "Prepare the Chamber of Truth. The Ancient Queen will speak through me."
VII. Echoes in the Council
Back in the Zelith system, within the crystalline halls of the Thalor High Council, whispers began.
The team had gone dark. Their last ping had vanished near Uli space—but a strange gravitational anomaly echoed back from their trajectory.
Councilor Yar'ek, elder psion of the Thalor, stood and declared: "Something vast is rising. Not just ships. Not just war. But extinction."
The Council chamber grew still.
"We must prepare," Yar'ek finished, "for the Mahasimu have awakened something older than their empire."