Ascendant Frontier

“Fuck me sideways!” Merek roared as the Ranger’s nose dipped, plummeting towards the endless sea of sand below. His massive hands wrestled with the controls, muscles straining against the g-force threatening to rip the ship apart.

Alarms blared, red lights flashing like a goddamn disco inferno. The cockpit shuddered violently, sparks erupting from the console as systems failed one by one.

“Come on, you piece of shit!” Merek growled, fighting for every inch. His wild hair whipped around his face, steel eyes locked on the rapidly approaching ground. “Not like this, not fucking today!”

Trinity’s voice crackled over the comms, “Merek! We’re losing power to the -“

Her words cut off as another explosion rocked the ship. Merek’s jaw clenched, a vein pulsing in his temple. He’d be damned if he let his crew die in this tin can.

“Hold on to your ass, Trin!” he bellowed, yanking hard on the stick. “We’re coming in hot!”

The Ranger screamed through the atmosphere, a goddamn meteor of twisted metal and broken dreams. Merek’s knuckles went white on the controls, every muscle in his body straining against the inevitable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

A dark figure materialized behind him, eerie glowing eyes piercing through the chaos. Void’s voice cut through the cacophony like a knife through butter.

“Your efforts are futile, Merek,” he intoned, his words dripping with cold disdain. “Embrace the void.”

“Fuck off with that bullshit!” Merek snarled, not even sparing a glance at the robed asshole. “Either help or get the hell out of my cockpit!”

The ship lurched violently, throwing Void against the bulkhead with a satisfying thud. Merek allowed himself a grim smile. Alarms shrieked funeral bells.

“Merek!” Bishop’s steady voice crackled over the comms. “The port thruster’s gone. We need to...”

His words were swallowed by an ear-splitting explosion as said thruster decided to go out in a blaze of fucking glory.

The Ranger spun like a drunken ballerina, the horizon blurring into a nauseating swirl of sand and sky.

“No shit, Sherlock!” Merek roared back, fighting the controls with every ounce of his considerable strength. “Any other pearls of wisdom?”

Bishop’s reply was drowned out by Trinity’s panicked scream from the engine room. “We’re venting coolant! The core’s gonna blow!”

“Not if I can help it,” Merek growled, his eyes wild with determination. He wrenched the stick hard to port, feeling something pop in his shoulder. Pain lanced through him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it.

The ground rushed up to meet them, a tidal wave of scorching sand ready to swallow them whole. Void’s eyes flared brighter, his dark energy crackling around him like a sinister aura.

“Brace for impact!” Bishop’s voice boomed through the ship, steady as a fucking rock even in the face of certain death.

Merek let out a primal roar as he gave one final, desperate yank on the controls. The Ranger’s nose lifted at the last possible second, buying them a precious few meters of clearance.

Then, everything went to shit.

The Ranger screamed like a dying animal, engines giving one last defiant roar before sputtering out. Merek’s mind raced, calculating angles, speed, their slim chances of survival.

As the sand rushed up to meet them, a grim smirk tugged at Merek’s scarred lips. “Well,” he muttered, “guess we’re about to find out if I’m as mad as they say.”

The impact hit like a fucking freight train. Merek’s head slammed forward, teeth rattling in his skull as the Ranger plowed into the sand. Metal screeched, twisting and tearing as the ship carved a deep furrow across the wasteland.

“Son of a bitch!” Merek roared, vision blurring as he and Trinity were thrown against their restraints. The world outside became a whirling sandstorm, smoke and dust engulfing them in a choking haze.

Then, silence. Deafening, eerie silence.

Merek’s ears rang, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He blinked, trying to focus on the cracked viewscreen. “Trinity?” he croaked, throat raw. “You still breathing?”

“Barely,” came her strained reply. “Shit, that was one hell of a landing.”

“Landing?” Bishop’s deep voice rumbled through the crackling comms. “I’d call that a controlled fucking catastrophe. My ass feels like it’s been through a meat grinder.”

“Your mortal forms are so... fragile,” Void’s cold voice cut in, dripping with disdain. “Perhaps next time you’ll heed my advice and embrace the void.”

“Shut your cryptic piehole,” Merek growled, fumbling with his restraints. “Unless you can pull a new ship out of your ass, you ain’t helping.”

Trinity’s laugh turned into a hacking cough. “Fuck me, I think I inhaled half the desert.”

Merek stumbled to his feet, the world tilting like a goddamn funhouse. He squinted through the haze of smoke and sand, trying to assess the damage. The Ranger’s cockpit was a mess of sparking wires and shattered displays.

“Status report, you sorry sons of bitches,” he barked, wiping blood from his eyes.

“Engineering’s fucked six ways to Sunday,” Trinity called back, her voice strained. “We’re leaking coolant faster than a drunk pisses beer.”

Bishop’s steady tone cut through the chaos. “Med bay’s intact, but we’ve got injuries. Nothing critical, thank the stars.”

“The void cares not for your petty wounds,” Void intoned, materializing beside Merek in a swirl of dark energy.

Merek resisted the urge to punch the robed asshole. “Yeah? Well the void can kiss my ass. We need to get this bucket of bolts flying again.”

He stumbled towards the exit, kicking aside debris. The ship groaned ominously, metal creaking like it was ready to give up the ghost.

“Trin, get your ass up here. We need to assess the damage.”

“On my way, boss,” she replied, her footsteps echoing through the ship’s corridors.

Merek wrenched open the airlock, a blast of scorching air hitting him like a fucking sledgehammer. He squinted against the harsh sunlight, surveying the wasteland stretching out before them.

“Well, shit,” he muttered, taking in the deep furrow carved by their crash landing. The Ranger’s hull was scorched and twisted, one wing barely hanging on by a thread.

Trinity appeared beside him, her wild hair matted with blood and engine grease. “Fuck me sideways,” she breathed, eyes wide. “How the hell did we survive that?”

Merek grinned, teeth flashing white against his grimy face. “Pure skill and a healthy dose of batshit crazy.”

“Your recklessness nearly doomed us all,” Void’s cold voice drifted from behind them.

“Yeah?” Merek spun around, jabbing a finger at the robed figure. “And what the fuck did you contribute?”

Trinity snorted, wiping sweat and grime from her brow. “At least Merek’s recklessness kept our asses alive. What’ve you got besides fancy light shows and cryptic bullshit?”

Void’s eyes flared dangerously. “You’d do well to show more respect, mortal.”

“Respect my ass,” Merek growled, turning back to survey the wreckage. “Trinity, what’re we looking at?”

She grimaced, running a hand through her matted hair. “It ain’t pretty, boss. Main thruster’s shot to hell, coolant system’s leaking like a sieve, and the power core...” She trailed off, shaking her head.

“Spit it out,” Merek barked.

“It’s fucked, Merek. Beyond fucked. We need a new one, or we ain’t getting off this dustball.”

“Shit!” Merek kicked a piece of twisted metal, sending it skittering across the sand. “Any good news?”

Trinity’s eyes lit up. “Well, the artificial gravity’s still working. So at least we won’t float away while we’re stuck here.”

Merek stared at her for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “Fuck me, Trin. You’re something else.”

Bishop’s steady footsteps crunched through the sand as he joined them. “I’ve stabilized our injuries. What’s our next move?”

Merek’s face hardened, his mind racing. “We need parts, and we need ‘em fast. This ain’t exactly Metropolis out here.”

“Perhaps,” Void intoned, his dark energy crackling, “I could be of assistance.”

Merek’s eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah? And what’s the catch?”

Void’s glowing eyes seemed to smile, though his face remained hidden. “No catch. Merely an opportunity to prove my worth to this... team.”

Trinity snorted. “Team? Since when are you all about teamwork?”

“Since our survival depends on it,” Void replied coolly. “I sense a settlement, some distance to the east. They may have what we need.”

Merek exchanged glances with Trinity and Bishop. “How far?”

“Far enough to be dangerous,” Void answered. “But close enough to reach before nightfall, if we leave now.”

“Fuck,” Merek muttered, weighing their options. “Alright, you creepy bastard. Lead the way. But I swear, if this is a trap...”

“You’ll what?” Void’s voice dripped with amusement. “Kill me? I welcome the challenge.”

Merek’s hand twitched towards his blaster. “Don’t tempt me, asshole.”

“Enough!” Bishop’s deep voice cut through the tension. “We don’t have time for this pissing contest. Let’s move.”

“Fuck me sideways,” he muttered, hauling himself out of the wreckage.

The sight that greeted him made his stomach drop. The Ranger, his pride and joy, lay broken and smoking in the sand. Her hull was split open like a cracked egg, circuits sparking uselessly in the dry air. The mighty engines that had carried them across galaxies now sat silent, half-buried in the dunes.

Merek’s fists clenched, a wave of rage and despair washing over him. This ship wasn’t just transportation, it was his goddamn life. Years of memories, close calls, and hard-won victories reduced to scrap in an instant.

“No, no, no,” he growled, kicking at a piece of twisted metal. “This can’t be happening. Not now, not here in this fucking wasteland!”

He ran a hand through his wild hair, mind racing. Without the Ranger, they were sitting ducks. Stranded in the ass-end of nowhere with who-knows-what gunning for them.

“Merek?” Trinity called from inside the ship. “A little help here?”

He shook himself, pushing down the panic clawing at his throat. They were alive, for now. That’d have to be enough.

“Coming, Trin,” he called back, his voice gruff. “Let’s see what we can salvage from this clusterfuck.”

Trinity emerged from the Ranger’s gaping wound, her wild hair caked with sand and grease. She moved with purpose, eyes darting over the wreckage.

“Shit’s fucked, Merek,” she said, wiping her brow. “But I might be able to...”

“Save it,” Merek growled. “Just get to the core.”

He watched her scramble over twisted metal, her fingers dancing across exposed wires and shattered panels. Despite everything, a grudging respect bubbled up in his chest. The girl had skills, no denying that.

Trinity disappeared into the ship’s innards. Merek paced, his mind a storm of worst-case scenarios. No ship, no backup, surrounded by endless fucking sand. They were proper screwed.

“Found it!” Trinity’s muffled voice called out.

Merek’s heart leapt. Maybe, just maybe.

Trinity crawled out, her face grim. In her hands lay a charred, mangled husk of metal and circuitry.

“Well?” Merek demanded, though he already knew the answer.

Trinity met his gaze, her usual optimism gone. “It’s dead, Merek. Ranger’s heart’s stopped beating.”

“Fuck!” Merek roared, kicking the sand. “Can’t you work your magic? Rig something up?”

Trinity shook her head. “This ain’t a quick fix. It’s beyond saving.”

Merek stared at the twisted core, his world crumbling. They were well and truly fucked now.

“Goddamn motherfucking piece of shit!” Merek roared, slamming his fist against the Ranger’s hull. The impact sent a jolt of pain through his arm, but he barely felt it. His teeth were gritted so hard he thought they might crack.

“Easy on the ship,” Trinity muttered, but her heart wasn’t in it.

Merek spun around, eyes wild. “Easy? We’re stranded in this piss-stained wasteland with a dead ship and you want me to take it fucking easy?”

He kicked the sand, sending a spray of grit into the air. The reality of their situation hit him like a freight train. No ship. No comms. No hope.

“We’re royally fucked, Trin,” he growled, running a hand through his wild hair. “Proper fucked.”

Trinity stood silent, watching him pace like a caged animal. Merek’s mind raced, calculating their odds. The endless desert stretched in every direction, a sea of sand ready to swallow them whole.

“No water,” he muttered. “No food. No fucking way to call for help.”

He turned to Trinity, his steely eyes locking onto hers. “You got any bright ideas? ‘Cause I’m coming up empty, and empty means dead out here.”

The weight of their predicament settled on his shoulders like a lead blanket. Merek the Mad, brought low by a patch of bad luck and a broken ship. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

“We’re not dead yet,” Trinity said, her voice cutting through his spiral of despair.

Merek snorted. “Give it time, sweetheart. This shithole’s got plenty of ways to kill us.”

Trinity’s eyes blazed with determination. “Fuck that noise. We’ve been through worse, Merek. Remember that time on Zeta-9 when…”

“When the Crimson Cartel had us pinned down in that burning brothel?” Merek finished, a wry grin tugging at his scarred lips.

“Yeah, I remember. We had to fight our way out with nothing but a rusty pipe and your homemade stun grenades.”

“Exactly,” Trinity nodded, her wild hair bouncing. “And we made it out alive, didn’t we?”

“Barely,” Merek grunted. “My ass still twitches when I smell cheap perfume.”

A dark chuckle emanated from behind them. Void materialized in a swirl of inky shadows, his glowing eyes fixed on the horizon. “Your mortal resilience is... amusing.”

“Fuck off, Smokey,” Merek growled. “Unless you can pull a power core from them fancy robes, you ain’t helping.”

Bishop’s steady footsteps crunched through the sand as he joined them, his weathered face creased with concern. “Save your breath, Merek. We need to focus on survival, not squabbling.”

“Oh, I’m focused all right,” Merek snarled. “Focused on how we’re gonna die in this godforsaken hellhole!”

“We won’t die,” Bishop said calmly, his eyes scanning the endless dunes. “Not if we...” He trailed off, his gaze sharpening as he squinted into the distance.

“What?” Merek demanded. “You see something? A mirage? The fucking pearly gates?”

Bishop shook his head slowly, disbelief etched across his features. “No... it can’t be.”

“Spit it out, old man!” Trinity urged, her hand instinctively reaching for a wrench that wasn’t there.

“I know this place,” Bishop muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “The rock formations, the twin peaks in the distance... We’re in Black Gulch.”

“Black what now?” Merek frowned.

“Black Gulch,” Bishop repeated, his eyes widening. “It’s an old mining town… I came here once, long before I joined the Templars.”

Merek blinked. “Guess even a priest gotta eat...”

Bishop silenced him with a stare. “Yes, we must eat too. And breathe. And shit. Don’t be so fucking surprised. I was young once too, you know.”

Void’s eyes flared with interest. “How... fortuitous.”

“Hold your horses, Smokey,” Merek growled. “What’re the odds of us crash-landing right next to someplace you just happen to know about?”

Bishop shrugged. “The universe works in mysterious ways, Merek. Sometimes, it throws you a lifeline when you least expect it.”

“Or a noose,” Merek muttered darkly.

Trinity’s eyes sparked with that familiar mischief. “Black Gulch,” she said, grinning like a damn fool. “We can barter parts there.”

“Or traps,” Merek countered. “Or cannibals. Or flesh-eating sand worms. Take your pick.”

“Your pessimism is tiresome,” Bishop sighed. “Don’t let your imagination get the best of you. It’s full of mostly scavengers and mercenaries now. Lawless shithole.”

Merek barked out a laugh. “Sounds like my kinda place.”

“Got a better idea, genius?” Trinity shot back, her hands already tinkering with some gadget from her pocket.

Merek glared at her, his jaw clenching. “Yeah, how ‘bout we don’t walk into a nest of cutthroats and thieves?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Trinity mocked, “I didn’t realize you wanted to die out here in the ass-end of nowhere.”

“Fuck you,” Merek growled, but there was no real heat behind it.

He knew she was right, goddammit. Black Gulch was a longshot, but it was the only shot they had. His eyes scanned the horizon, the endless expanse of sand and rock stretching out before them.

“Fine,” he spat, hating every word. “But when we’re getting our throats slit in some back alley, I’m gonna say ‘I told you so’ with my dying breath.”

Trinity grinned, slapping him on the back. “That’s the spirit, Captain Sunshine! Now, let’s get moving before this heat cooks what’s left of your brain.”

Merek grunted as he scanned the horizon. The sun beat down mercilessly, turning the landscape into a shimmering mirage of heat and dust.

Merek’s jaw clenched. He knew she had a point, but fuck if he’d admit it. “It’s a long shot, and you know it. Place is crawling with lowlifes and scum.”

“Yeah, well, takes one to know one, don’t it?” Trinity smirked “Besides, ain’t like we got a buffet of options here.”

Merek’s mind raced, weighing their slim chances against the certain death of staying put. His gut twisted, knowing they were royally screwed either way.

“Ah, fuck it,” he growled, kicking at the sand. “Might as well die trying, I guess. Lead the way, Preacher.”

Trinity’s grin was all teeth as she started off. “That’s the spirit, you miserable bastard. Now move your ass before I leave you for the vultures.”

As they trudged through the scorching sand, Merek’s eyes constantly scanned the horizon. The desert was a treacherous bitch, ready to kill them a hundred different ways. But it wasn’t just the heat or the sand that had him on edge.

“Hold up,” he growled, grabbing Trinity’s arm. His eyes narrowed, focusing on a distant point.

“What now?” Trinity huffed, wiping sweat from her brow. “Your pessimism finally solidify into a mirage?”

“Shut your trap for a second,” Merek snapped, squinting against the sun’s glare. There it was again - a glint of metal, barely visible through the heat haze. “You see that?”

Trinity followed his gaze, her cocky attitude evaporating. “Well, shit. That ain’t natural.”

Merek’s hand instinctively moved to his blaster. “No, it ain’t. And I got a feeling whoever’s out there ain’t rolling out the welcome wagon.”

His mind raced, calculating their odds. Out in the open, exposed as a whore’s tits in a sandstorm. No cover, no backup.

“What’s the play, boss?” Trinity asked, her voice low and tense.

“Void. Bishop. Scout ahead, we’ll split up in case they ain’t friendly. Meet up at whatever the fuck passes for a bar. First drink’s on Void.”

Bishop’s weathered face twisted into a scowl. “Oh, that’s just fucking perfect. Send the old man on a hike through the Devil’s armpit while Smokey here gets to poof away. Real fair, Merek.”

Void’s eyes flashed with cold amusement. “Perhaps if you embraced the void, you too could travel with such ease.”

“I’ll embrace your void right up your ass if you don’t shut it,” Bishop growled, adjusting his robes. “Some of us prefer to keep our souls intact, thank you very much.”

Merek barked out a laugh. “Aw, don’t be such a grumpy bastard, Bish. Think of it as a nice stroll through nature.”

“Nature can kiss my sweaty balls,” Bishop muttered, but he was already moving. “You owe me more than a drink for this, Merek. I’m talking top-shelf whiskey and a full body massage.”

“You got it, Princess,” Merek grinned. “Now get your holy ass in gear.”

Void’s form began to shimmer, dark energy crackling around him. “Try not to die before we return,” he intoned. “It would be... inconvenient.”

“Your concern is touching,” Trinity deadpanned. “Really, I’m all choked up.”

With a final flash of those eerie eyes, Void vanished in a swirl of inky blackness. Bishop trudged off, grumbling curses that would make an Aelvori whore blush.

Merek watched them go, his grin fading as the reality of their situation settled back in. They were still proper fucked, but at least now they had a sliver of a plan.

“Alright, Trin,” he said, turning to his partner. “Let’s see if we can’t salvage something useful from this clusterfuck of a day.”

Trinity nodded, her wild hair bobbing. “Roger that, boss. I’ve got some ideas that might just keep our asses alive long enough to reach civilization.”

As they made their way back to the wreckage, Merek’s mind raced. Black Gulch. A name that promised danger and maybe, just maybe, a chance at survival. But first, they had to make it there in one piece.

“Hey, Trin,” he called over his shoulder. “You still got those homemade flash-bangs?”

Trinity’s grin was downright feral. “You know it, boss. Ready to light up some unfriendly faces if we need to.”

“That’s my girl,” Merek chuckled. “Now let’s gear up and get the fuck out of this hellhole.”

As they picked through the Ranger’s remains, Merek couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The glint of metal in the distance, the eerie silence of the desert... something was off, and he didn’t like it.

“Got ‘em!” She grinned. “Now what?”

Merek’s lips curled into a grim smile. “Same as always, darlin’. We keep moving, stay alert, and if something tries to fuck with us...”

He cocked his blaster with a satisfying click. “We blow it to high heaven.”

“Trinity,” he muttered, “when we hit town, keep your yap shut and your eyes open.”

She snorted. “Please. I was born ready for this.”

As they approached the outskirts, a group of locals came into view.

Ragtag bunch of sorry-ass motherfuckers if Merek ever saw. Dirty, scarred up sons of bitches with mean eyes and meaner dispositions. They eyed Merek and Trinity like vultures sizing up roadkill.

“Well, well,” drawled a greasy bastard with more tattoos than teeth. “What do we have here?”

“Trouble,” growled another, spitting a glob of chew juice that barely missed Trinity’s boot.

Black Gulch sprawled before them, a festering shithole of ramshackle buildings and lawlessness. The stench of piss, booze, and desperation hung thick in the air.

Neon signs flickered weakly, advertising all manner of vices to numb the pain of existing in this godforsaken hellhole.

“Nice welcoming committee,” Trinity muttered under her breath.

“Shut it,” Merek hissed.

The tattooed asshole swaggered closer, hand resting on the butt of a nasty-looking blaster. “You lost, pretty boy? This ain’t no place for tourists.”

Merek’s fingers twitched, itching to draw. “We’re just passing through,” he growled. “Looking for work.”

“Work?” Tattoo Face barked a laugh. “Ain’t no work here ‘cept dying slow or dying fast. Which you prefer?”

Trinity stepped forward, ignoring Merek’s warning glare. “How about option C? We mind our business, you mind yours, and nobody has to die today.”

The locals exchanged glances, tension crackling like electricity. Merek’s heart hammered, waiting for the moment it all went to shit.

“You got a smart mouth on you, girlie,” Tattoo Face sneered. “Might have to teach you some manners.”

“Try it, fuckface,” Trinity spat. “I’ll rearrange your ugly mug so bad even your mother won’t recognize you.”

“Goddammit, Trinity,” Merek groaned. So much for keeping quiet. He squared his shoulders “Listen, partner. We don’t want no trouble.”

Cold laughter echoed through the canyons and clapboard buildings.

“Ah, fuck yer ass.” The brute made himself scarce. “Your funeral, jackbag.”

A deafening explosion rocked the street, sending bodies and debris flying.

Merek’s hand shot to his blaster, but before he could draw, all hell broke loose.

Through the chaos and smoke, Merek saw Trinity ducking behind an overturned hover-cart, her eyes wild with excitement.

“What the fuck did you do?” he roared, diving for cover as plasma bolts sizzled past his head.

“Wasn’t me!” she shouted back, grinning like a maniac. “But I ain’t complaining!”

Another explosion lit up the night, and the air grew thick with laser fire. Screams echoed through the clapboard canyons. Locals scattered. Some ran for cover, but the cockroaches came out in force, joining the fray with whoops of bloodthirsty glee.

Merek risked a glance over his makeshift barricade, spotting a group of heavily armed figures emerging from the smoke. A mountain of muscle and cybernetics, bellowed orders as he unleashed a barrage from a massive rotary cannon.

“Some welcome wagon,” Trinity panted, still grinning despite the blood trickling from a cut on her forehead. “Think they like us?”

Merek skidded to a stop, grabbing her arm and spinning her to face him. “What part of ‘keep your yap shut’ did you miss?”

“Fuck you, old man!” Trinity shouted, yanking her arm free. “I didn’t start this shit!”

A plasma bolt seared the air inches from Merek’s face, singing his beard. “Argue later!” he roared, shoving Trinity behind a rusted-out hovercar. “Shoot now!”

“Who the fuck are these assholes?” Trinity yelled over the din, picking off a sniper on a nearby rooftop.

Before Merek could answer, a deep, menacing laugh cut through the chaos. The cybernetic mountain of a man strode forward, plasma bolts bouncing harmlessly off his armored hide.

“Well, well,” the behemoth rumbled, his voice like gravel in a blender. “If it ain’t the infamous Merek the Mad and his little pet.”

Merek’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice. “Farrell,” he spat.

Trinity’s eyes widened. “Wait, THE Farrell? The guy who...”

“Shut it!” Merek hissed, but it was too late.

Farrell’s cybernetic eye glowed an ominous red as he scanned them. “Who’s your new whore?” He eyed Trinity up and down. “You a mighty pretty thing. Reckon you could make me and my boys proud. Could use some fresh meat on the ship.”

“On account of all the dead, rancid shit you keep locked up in cold storage? Tell me. Y’all still fucking them corpses from Remor Eight?”

Farrell’s laugh was like steel grinding on bone. “Boy, seems you still got that mouth of yours. Lemmie fix that for ya.”

With a flick of his wrist, Farrell’s cybernetic arm transformed into a vicious-looking cannon. The air crackled with energy as it powered up.

“Shit!” Merek grabbed Trinity and dove behind a nearby building just as Farrell unleashed hell. The blast vaporized their cover, leaving a smoking crater where they’d been seconds before.

“Friends of yours?” Trinity gasped, her face pale beneath the grime and blood.

Merek grimaced. “Long story. Short version: he wants me dead.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Trinity snapped. “Got any bright ideas?”

“Run. Hide. Don’t fucking die.”

Merek and Trinity tore ass down the street, plasma bolts sizzling past their heads. They ducked and weaved through the chaos, dodging screaming locals and burning debris.

“You can’t run forever, Merek!” Farrell’s voice boomed behind them. “I’ll hunt you to the edge of the fucking galaxy if I have to!”

“Fuck you!” Merek shouted back, yanking Trinity into a narrow alley.

They sprinted through a maze of back streets, the sounds of pursuit never far behind. Trinity vaulted over a pile of smoldering trash.

“Left!” Merek barked, spotting a rickety fire escape.

They scrambled up the rusty metal, Trinity’s wrench making quick work of any bolts too stubborn to give way. As they reached the roof, Farrell’s laughter echoed off the buildings.

“Remember Novus Prime, Merek?” Farrell taunted. “Remember how I left you bleeding in that pit? Should’ve finished the job then!”

Merek’s face twisted with rage. “You backstabbing son of a bitch!” he roared, emptying his blaster at Farrell’s position. “We were partners!”

Trinity’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You two were...”

“Not now!” Merek growled, dragging her across the rooftop.

They leapt from building to building, the gap between them and Farrell’s goons slowly widening.

A stray shot clipped Trinity’s leg, sending her sprawling. “Fuck!” she cried out, clutching her thigh.

Merek skidded to a stop, scooping her up without breaking stride. “I got you, kid,” he grunted, muscles straining as he carried her.

“Aw, ain’t that sweet?” Farrell’s voice dripped with mock sincerity. “Merek’s gone soft! What happened to the ruthless bastard I used to know?”

They reached the edge of the roof, a yawning chasm between them and the next building. Merek’s eyes darted around, desperate for an escape route.

“End of the line, old friend,” Farrell called out, his heavy footsteps growing closer. “No way out this time.”

Merek locked eyes with Trinity. She nodded, gritting her teeth against the pain.

“That’s where you’re wrong, asshole,” Merek snarled.

Merek spun and hurled Trinity across the gap. She sailed through the air, arms windmilling. She crashed onto the opposite roof with a pained grunt.

“Merek!” she screamed, struggling to her feet.

Merek was already moving, sprinting full-tilt towards the edge.

Merek jumped.

“You crazy son of a bitch!” Trinity laughed, pulling him to safety.

Farrell’s enraged roar echoed behind them. “I’ll skin you alive, Merek!”

An earth shattering rumble tore through the town, vibrating buildings. The scrap metal roof beneath their feet vibrated an ominous jig.

Beyond the town rose a massive shape from the desert wastes, blotting out the moons.

Vibration turned to rumbles turned to the rapport of a stage five detonation.

Foundations shook.

Buildings turned to twiggy ruins in a span of seconds.

Merek and Trinity stumbled. Fell on their knees.

“What the fuck?” Trinity gasped, her eyes wide with fear.

Like a mountain come to life, a writhing mass of segmented flesh and chitinous armor rose against the horizon.

Massive, crystalline spines jutted from its back, catching the starlight and refracting it in dazzling patterns across the night sky.

“Fucking no.” Merek gummed stupidly, eyeing the writhing creature as it sloshed through the sand, turning dunes to tidal waves.

“Uh…Merek?” Trinity said, her voice no more than a hushed whisper. “You wanna fill me in here?”

“I…no. It can’t be.”

“It’s somethin’ all right.”

“It’s a Kekhi Worm. The fucking dragons reborn.”

Its maw opened wide. It screamed the death rattle of a dying star, shattering windows and sending locals scrambling for cover.

Farrell’s laughter cut through the chaos, a sound of pure, manic glee. “Well, I’ll be damned! Jackpot!”

The outlaw’s massive frame appeared at the edge of the opposite rooftop, his cybernetic eye glowing with an eerie red light as he scanned the titanic creature.

“You seeing this, Merek?” Farrell called out, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “And here I thought I was just gonna get the pleasure of gutting you like a fish. But this? This is better than a thousand of yer sorry hides!”

The Kekhi Worm began to move, its segmented body undulating as it carved a path through the desert. Each movement sent shockwaves rippling through the earth, toppling rickety structures and kicking up massive clouds of dust.

“It’s heading west,” Trinity murmured, her earlier bravado replaced by awe. “Into the deep wastes.”

Farrell’s cybernetic arm reconfigured, transforming into some kind of scanning device. “Oh, you beautiful bastard,” he crowed. “The stories don’t do you justice. You’re a goldmine on legs, aren’t you?”

Merek’s eyes narrowed. “Whatever you’re planning, Farrell, it ain’t gonna end well.”

The outlaw’s laugh was cold and mirthless. “For you, maybe. But me? I’m about to be the richest son of a bitch this side of the galactic core.” He fixed Merek with a predatory grin. “Don’t worry, though. I haven’t forgotten about our little score. But right now? You ain’t even a footnote.”

“Always a pleasure, Farrell.” Merek tipped his hat to the fading outlaw. “Fuck off and die in the wastes before I see you again. Promise?”

Farrell flipped him the bird and vanished over the rooftops, disappearing into the wastes.

“Well. That was fun.” Trinity said. “I’m thirsty. Fancy a drink? Think you owe me one on account of I just saved your ass.”

“But you didn’t even boom anything.”

“Reckon the night’s still young.”

They climbed off the rooftop and wandered back into the neutered ruins of Black Gulch.

“Fuck me sideways,” Merek groaned, limping towards the Dusty Spur. “I need a drink stronger than Void’s breath after a three-day bender.”

Trinity snorted, favoring her injured leg. “Bet he and Bishop are pissed they missed all this fun.”

“Fun? You call that fun?” Merek shook his head. “You’re as batshit crazy as I am, kid.”

Trinity grinned. “Bet Bishop’s off praying to his invisible sky daddy while Void’s balls-deep in some ancient tome.”

They stumbled into the tavern, miraculously still standing amidst the chaos.

The Dusty Spur Tavern was a dilapidated shithole if he’d ever seen one. The stench of stale booze and desperation hit them like a fucking sledgehammer.

Trinity gagged. “You sure this is the place?”

Merek grunted, shoving open the creaking door. “Beggars can’t be choosers, sweetheart.”

They stepped into a sea of hard faces and harder fists. The tavern fell silent, dozens of eyes locked onto the newcomers.

Merek shouldered his way to the bar, Trinity close behind. The bartender, a grizzled old bastard with more scars than teeth, fixed them with a glare that could’ve curdled milk.

“What’ll it be?” he growled, wiping a glass with a rag that looked dirtier than the floor.

“Information,” Merek replied, leaning in. “We’re looking for rare parts. Starship grade. Know where we might find ‘em?”

The bartender’s scowl deepened. “Do I look like a fucking parts dealer to you?”

Trinity piped up, her voice syrupy sweet. “Come on, sugar. A fine establishment like this? Bet you hear all sorts of juicy gossip.”

“Ain’t heard shit,” the bartender spat. “Now order a drink or get the fuck out.”

“Two of your strongest,” Merek growled, slapping a handful of credits on the bar. “And keep ‘em coming.”

As they settled into a rickety booth, Trinity leaned forward, her eyes glinting with curiosity. “So, Merek the Mad, huh? Spill it, old man. What’s the deal with you and Farrell?”

Merek took a long pull from his drink, wincing as the rotgut burned its way down. “Ancient history, kid. Let’s just say we used to run together, and it ended badly.”

“No shit,” Trinity snorted. “I gathered that much when he tried to vaporize your ass. Come on, give me the juicy details!”

Merek’s eyes grew distant, lost in memories. “We were the best of the worst, back in the day. Pulled off jobs that made the Galactic Council shit their collective pants. But Farrell... he always wanted more. More money, more power, more everything.”

“And you didn’t?”

“I wanted enough to live free, maybe settle down someday.” Merek’s laugh was bitter. “Stupid dream for a stupid kid.”

Trinity’s voice softened. “What happened?”

“Job went south. Real bad. Farrell left me for dead in a pit full of Novian Acid Slugs. By the time I clawed my way out, half my skin was gone, and so was he... along with every credit we’d ever scored.”

“Shit,” Trinity whispered. “No wonder you’re always such a grumpy asshole.”

Merek barked out a laugh. “Thanks, kid. You’re a real comfort.”

They lapsed into silence, nursing their drinks. Outside, the town was slowly coming back to life, locals emerging to assess the damage and swap stories about the night’s events.

“So,” Trinity said eventually, “that big-ass worm thing. What’s its deal?”

Merek’s eyes darkened. “Kekhi Worm. Thought they were just legends, but apparently the universe loves to prove me wrong.”

“Y’all want another? You look like hell warmed over.”

“For someone that don’t know shit, you sure seen an awful lot.”

“Folk don’t come here for drinkin’ most nights. They pay me to keep my damned mouth shut. But if’n you keep me pouring, my lips just might get loose.”

“Fine,” he growled. “Two more of that cheap ass piss-water, make ‘em double.”

As the bartender turned to pour, Merek muttered to Trinity, “Start working the room. Someone’s gotta know something.”

Trinity nodded, her usual grin replaced by a look of steely determination. “On it, boss.”

The locals clammed up as she approached, conversations dying mid-sentence.

Trinity sauntered up to a table of grizzled miners, flashing her most disarming smile. “Evening, boys. Mind if I join you?”

“Fuck off, girlie. We don’t need no trouble.”

“Aw, come on,” Trinity pouted. “I’m just looking for a friendly chat.”

A wiry old-timer with a face like cracked leather snorted. “Friendly, my ass. What you want, missy? Spit it out ‘fore I spit you out.”

Trinity leaned in, lowering her voice. “Word is, there’s some valuable salvage out in the wastes. Thought you fellas might know something about that.”

The miners exchanged glances, tension crackling in the air.

“Salvage, eh?” wheezed a scrawny bastard. “Only thing out there’s sand, death, and more fuckin’ sand.”

“And giant worms, apparently.”

A one-eyed brute slammed his fist on the table. “Listen here, you nosy little shit. We don’t know nothin’ about no salvage or worms or whatever the fuck you’re after. So take your pretty ass back to your boyfriend and leave us the hell alone.”

Trinity’s eyes narrowed. “He ain’t my boyfriend, dickwad. And I ain’t leaving till I get what I came for.”

“Oh yeah? And what you gonna do if we decide to teach you some manners?”

Before Trinity could respond, a gravelly voice cut through the tension. “I reckon I might know somethin’ about that salvage you’re looking for.”

All eyes turned to an ancient miner hunched in the corner, his rheumy eyes glinting with a spark of mischief.

“Shut your trap, Zeke!” hissed the wiry old-timer. “You senile old fuck!”

Zeke cackled, revealing a mouth with more gaps than teeth. “Aw, go piss up a rope, Jeb. I’m too old to give a fuck about your little schemes.”

Trinity sidled up to Zeke’s table, ignoring the murderous glares from the other miners. “Well, hello there, handsome. Care to share with a lady?”

Zeke’s laugh turned into a hacking cough. “Lady? Sweetheart, I’ve seen pleasure bots with more lady-like qualities than you.”

Trinity grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere, old man. Now spill.”

Zeke leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “There’s a ship out there, buried in the deep wastes. Crashed during the last Galactic War.

Merek’s head snapped towards the corner.

“How far?” Merek demanded.

“’Bout a day’s ride,” the miner replied. “Northwest, past the old mining rigs.”

Merek’s fingers drummed against his holster. This smelled like bullshit, but what choice did he have? Stranded in this shithole, desperate for parts...

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Alright, old timer. You better not be yanking my chain, or I’ll be back to shove that drink so far up your ass you’ll be pissing whiskey for a month.”

The miner’s eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing his weathered face.

Merek turned, catching Trinity’s eye across the room. He jerked his head towards the door. Time to roll the dice.

Trinity bounced over, her wild hair a neon halo in the dim tavern light. “So? We going treasure hunting or what, boss?”

Merek grunted, his jaw clenched tight. “It’s a long shot, Trin. Could be walking into a goddamn death trap.”

Trinity’s eyes lit up like a fucking supernova. “Or! We could be walking into the motherlode of all salvage ops!” She grabbed Merek’s arm, her fingers dancing with excitement. “Think about it, Merek. We need those parts, like, yesterday. And who knows what other goodies we might find? Weapons, tech, maybe even some of that Void-damned moonshine you love so much.”

Merek couldn’t help but snort. “You’re a fucking optimist, you know that?”

“Someone’s gotta be,” Trinity grinned. “Otherwise, we’d all be as grumpy as you.”

Merek sighed, running a hand through his unkempt hair. The kid had a point. They were fucked six ways from Sunday without those parts. And if there was even a sliver of a chance...

“Alright,” he growled. “But we go in armed to the teeth. First sign of trouble, we bail. Got it?”

Trinity’s whoop of joy nearly deafened him. “Hot damn! Let’s go raid us a shipwreck!”

As they gathered their gear, Merek’s gut churned.

The rusty hinges of the Dusty Spur’s door screeched like a dying banshee as Merek shoved it open. Fucking hell, even the doors in this shithole were out to get them.

“Eyes sharp, Trin,” Merek muttered, his hand hovering over his blaster. “This town’s about as friendly as a Void-sucking black hole.”

Trinity nodded, her usual grin replaced by a tight-lipped frown. “Roger that, boss. I’ve got your six.”

As they stepped into the scorching heat, Merek felt the weight of a hundred eyes boring into them. Fuck, it was like walking into a nest of pissed-off hornets.

“Well, ain’t this just peachy,” Trinity whispered, her fingers twitching near her utility belt. “Feels like we’re about to star in our own execution vid.”

Merek’s eyes darted from face to face, each one a mask of suspicion and barely concealed hostility. His trigger finger itched something fierce. One wrong move, and this whole goddamn powder keg was gonna blow.

“Keep it cool,” he growled, more to himself than Trinity. “We just need to make it to the ship without starting a fucking war.”

As they inched their way down the dusty street, Merek caught sight of the old miner lurking in the shadows. The crusty bastard’s lips curled into a smile that sent chills down Merek’s spine.

“Shit,” he hissed. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Trin. That old fuck’s up to something.”

Trinity’s voice was uncharacteristically tense. “Yeah, no kidding. Think he sold us out?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered. “But we’re getting the hell out of here. Now.”

The heat of the night pressed down, dusty air thick with the scent of desperation and rust. Merek’s boots crunched against the sand-crusted street, every step a warning to the vultures circling too close. Trinity fell into step beside him.

“You buying that old geezer’s story?” she asked, voice low, eyes scanning the shadows.

“Not for a second,” Merek growled. “But we ain’t got the luxury of being picky.”

“Luxury? Hell, we don’t even have lunch money,” Trinity muttered. “Still think we should’ve taken that guy’s teeth back there. They looked valuable.”

Merek shot her a sideways glare. “Focus, kid. This place smells wrong. Like a setup.”

Trinity snorted, but her fingers drifted closer to the holster at her hip. “When doesn’t it? I swear, everywhere we go, someone’s looking to screw us.”

They turned a corner, stepping into the ruins of an old salvage lot. Rusted-out frames leaned like drunken skeletons under the twin moons, their jagged edges perfect for cover. Or an ambush. Merek’s gut tightened. His hand rested on the butt of his blaster, every nerve screaming at him to turn back. Too late for that now.

A low rumble rolled in from the west. At first, Merek thought it was thunder, but thunder didn’t growl like a pack of hungry beasts. He froze, motioning for Trinity to stop.

“You hear that?” he murmured.

“Yeah.” She crouched behind the twisted carcass of a transport, her voice tinged with excitement. “Sounds big. You thinking locals?”

“No. Locals don’t ride in packs that heavy.” Merek’s eyes scanned the horizon. Headlights appeared first, then the shapes of vehicles. Dozens of them. Cruisers, rigs, and something that looked like a mobile weapons platform. They moved like a predator closing in, engines snarling as they rolled into Black Gulch.

“Shit,” Trinity whispered. “That’s not the welcoming committee.”

“Nope.” Merek’s hand tightened on his blaster, eyes narrowing as the convoy came into view. At the head of the pack, a hulking figure stepped out of an armored transport, his silhouette unmistakable. The metallic glint of a cybernetic arm caught the moonlight, and Merek’s stomach twisted.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered under his breath.

Trinity glanced at him, her brows knitting together. “Who?”

“Farrell,” Merek spat. “Persistent bastard.”

Her eyes widened. “No way. Didn’t we just ditch that asshole?”

“Apparently, he missed the memo,” Merek growled. “And he brought the cavalry.”

The vehicles fanned out, hemming the town in like a noose tightening around its neck. Farrell’s booming laugh carried through the streets, as cold and mean as the man himself.

“Merek!” he called out, dragging the name like nails on a chalkboard. “I know you’re skulking around here, you sneaky son of a bitch. You got something I want, and I don’t mind tearing this pisshole apart to get it.”

Trinity shot Merek a sideways glance. “What’s the plan, boss?”

Merek scanned the street, weighing his options. His voice dropped to a growl. “Plan is we don’t die tonight. Now move.”

They slipped into the shadows, the sound of Farrell’s voice trailing after them like a predator’s growl.

“This isn’t over, Merek!” Farrell bellowed, his laughter echoing through the ruins. “You can’t run forever!”

“Keep running?” Trinity panted as they ducked through a narrow alley. “Or stop and say hi?”

“Keep moving,” Merek barked. “If we stop, we’re fucked.”

“And if we don’t?”

Merek’s jaw tightened, his eyes hard as steel. “We’re still fucked. But maybe on our terms.”

Merek’s hand hovered over his blaster, eyes scanning the crowd. “Alright, you slack-jawed fucks,” he growled, “who wants to dance?”

A hulking brute with a face like ground beef stepped forward, his scarred mug twisted into a sneer. “We know what you’re after, off-worlder,” he spat. “That artifact ain’t for the likes of you.”

“Artifact? Shit, Merek, did we leave the grocery list at home again?”

Tension hung on the air. Merek could practically taste the impending violence. One wrong move and this whole shitshow was goin’ supernova.

“Listen here, you inbred sack of...” Merek started, but Trinity cut him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“What my eloquent friend means to say,” she interjected, flashing a disarming smile, “is that we’re just passing through. No artifacts, no trouble. Right, Merek?”

Merek grunted, his eyes never leaving the scarred brute. “Yeah, what she said. Now how about you back the fuck off before things get messy?”

The brute’s meaty hand inched towards his own weapon. “I don’t think so, off-worlder. You ain’t leaving till we get some answers.”

“Fuck,” Merek thought, his mind frantically searching for a way out of this clusterfuck. “Where the hell is Void when you need him?”

As if on cue, a deafening crash erupted from the bar. Merek’s head whipped around to see a mountain of muscle hurling a scrawny drunk across the room, sending him crashing into a shelf of bottles.

“Fuckin’ A,” Merek muttered, a grin spreading across his scarred face. “Trinity, grab our shit!”

The street exploded into chaos. Fists flew, chairs splintered. The air filled with the satisfying crunch of breaking noses. Merek ducked a wild haymaker, his instincts kicking into overdrive.

“Move your ass, princess!”

“Call me princess again and I’ll shove this blaster so far up your...” A stray bottle whizzed past her head, splintering the wall.

Merek grabbed her arm. “Less talking, more running!”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Trinity panted. “Is it always gonna be like this? I swear, we can’t go five fucking minutes without someone trying to kill us!”

Merek’s jaw clenched, a nagging worry gnawing at the back of his mind. “Where the hell is Void?”

“Oh, now you’re worried about him?” Trinity snapped, straightening up. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such an asshole earlier, he’d still be here!”

“Watch it,” Merek snarled, his patience wearing thin. “That slippery bastard’s hiding something, and I don’t like it one bit.”

Trinity threw her hands up in exasperation. “And you’re not? We’re all hiding something, Merek! It’s called survival!”

Merek’s retort died on his lips as a distant shout echoed down the road. “Fuck, we gotta move. This ain’t over, Trinity.”

An eerie silence settled across Black Gulf. The shadows thickened unnaturally, pooling together like ink. Void emerged like a fucking specter, his dark robes billowing in the hot-as-balls desert wind. His eyes glowed with an eerie light, locking onto Merek’s face and sending a chill down his spine despite the sweltering heat.

“Holy shit!” Merek hissed, hand instinctively going for his blaster. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

Void’s face remained impassive. “I have my ways, Merek. Ways you couldn’t begin to comprehend.”

Merek’s trigger finger itched. Something about Void’s calm demeanor set his teeth on edge. It was like staring into the eye of a fucking hurricane, knowing the storm was about to hit.

“What game are you playing?”

Void glided closer, his voice dropping to a silky whisper that dripped with menace. “There is a crashed ship, Merek. It holds more than mere salvage.”

“The fuck you talking about?” Merek’s mind raced, possibilities and paranoia colliding.

“A powerful artifact,” Void breathed, “buried in these wastelands. One that could reshape the very fabric of our reality.”

Merek’s gut twisted. He didn’t trust the mage as far as he could throw him, and right now, he was seriously considering testing that distance.

“And let me guess,” Merek snarled, “you want us to help you get it?”

Void’s lips curled into a cold smile. “Oh, Merek. You have no idea what’s coming.”

The sound hit before the sight of him. It was a heavy, uneven clatter like boots on bad knees pounding through the street. Merek and Trinity spun, weapons drawn, just in time to see a sand-blasted figure come tearing out of the dark. Trinity didn’t think, just reacted. Her shot went wide, sparking off a rusted streetlamp.

“Holy fuck!” Bishop bellowed, skidding to a stop, a wild look on his grime-covered face. A blinking, battered datapad was clutched to his chest. Damn thing looked like it just barely survived the apocalypse.. “Don’t shoot, you gods-damned lunatics! It’s me!”

“Bishop?” Merek lowered his blaster. “What the fuck are you doing out here? Thought you were holed up somewhere cold, waiting out the shitstorm.”

“I was,” Bishop panted, his words tumbling out in rapid-fire bursts as he struggled to catch his breath. “Then I got bored. Started digging through some old records in the library. You know, where they keep the useless crap no one gives a shit about?”

Merek’s patience snapped. “Get to the point, old man.”

Bishop thrust the datapad toward him, the screen flickering erratically with fragmented maps and glowing coordinates. “This. This is the fucking point.”

Trinity leaned in, her eyes narrowing. “What the hell is that?”

“Locator beacon,” Bishop said, grinning like a maniac. “Ship-grade. Tied to a deep-waste wreck.”

Trinity’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait. Are you telling me that’s a⁠—“

“Treasure map,” Bishop interrupted, his grin spreading wider. “Or the next best thing.”

The fractured lines on the screen led straight into the deadliest stretch of desert he could imagine. “And you’re sure about this?” he growled, the words heavy with doubt.

“As sure as I am ugly,” Bishop shot back, jabbing a finger at the blinking coordinates. “And that’s damn sure. But if you wanna sit here scratching your balls while Farrell beats us to it, be my guest.”

Merek’s jaw tightened, the weight of the decision pressing down like a fucking lead blanket. “Goddammit,” he muttered, glancing at Trinity.

“This sounds like the break we need, boss,” she said, her grin sharp and full of trouble. “Bishop’s an asshole, but he’s usually right.”

“Usually,” Merek muttered, glaring at the older man. “If this turns out to be bullshit, you’ll be paying for it in more than credits, Bishop.”

Bishop just laughed, the sound raw and unapologetic. “Whatever you say, Merek. Now, are we going, or do you wanna wait around for Farrell to send us an engraved invite?”

Merek swore under his breath, holstering his blaster. “Alright. Let’s move. But if this goes sideways, I’m feeding you to the worms.”

“Fair enough,” Bishop said, already turning toward the horizon. “Try to keep up, kids.”

Merek watched him for a beat, then turned to Trinity. She was already halfway to convincing herself this was the best idea they’d ever had.

“Looks like the old man’s back in the fold,” she said, grinning wide.

“Yeah,” Merek muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Let’s hope he doesn’t get us killed.”

Merek squinted at the faded lines, his paranoia kicking into overdrive. “How do we know it ain’t bullshit?”

Bishop’s face darkened. “You questioning my judgment, boy? I’ve been reading maps since before you could wipe your own ass.”

Merek grunted, tracing the route with a calloused finger. “I don’t like it. Void’s got me on edge.”

Trinity rolled her eyes. “For fuck’s sake, Merek! This could be our only shot. You wanna die broke in this shithole?”

The air crackled with tension. Merek could feel Void’s eyes boring into him, calculating, always fucking calculating. He didn’t trust the bastard as far as he could throw him.

“Fine,” Merek spat. “But we do this smart. First sign of trouble, we bail. Got it?”

It was settled.

The night pressed in like a vice, the town’s shadows crawling with threats that could spring to life at any second. Merek’s nerves buzzed. He motioned for Trinity and Bishop to follow, his voice low and sharp. “We’re done here. Back to the ship. Move.”

Trinity rolled her eyes but fell into step without argument. “About damn time. I need a nap.”

“That’s my line,” Bishop said, clutching the datapad.

“Keep talking, old man,” Trinity shot back, her hand resting on the butt of her blaster. “I’ll give Farrell a running start.”

“Shut it, both of you,” Merek growled, scanning the dark alleys as they wound their way through the gutted remains of Black Gulch. Farrell’s crew was out there, somewhere, and Merek wasn’t about to let the bastard get the drop on them.

The streets thinned as they approached the edge of town, the skeletal remains of long-abandoned buildings giving way to the open desert.

Trinity jogged ahead, her boots kicking up dust as she scanned the ship’s exterior. “Still in pieces. Guess Farrell’s goons don’t have the balls to hit us head-on.”

“Or they’re waiting for us to get comfortable,” Merek said, his tone grim as he approached the ramp. His eyes swept the surrounding dunes, watching for the telltale gleam of headlights or the glint of a sniper’s scope. “Bishop, get your ass inside. Trin, check the perimeter. I want to know if someone so much as farted near this ship.”

“On it.” Trinity pulled a compact scanner from her belt, the device humming softly as she circled the ship.

Bishop lumbered up the ramp, muttering under his breath about sand and joints that didn’t move the way they used to. “You know, I didn’t sign up for this constant running-for-our-lives bullshit. Thought we’d be sipping cocktails on a beach by now.”

“You didn’t sign up for shit,” Merek shot back, following him up the ramp. “You’re here because you owe me, and don’t you forget it.”

The ship’s interior greeted them with the familiar hum of life support systems and the faint smell of burnt wiring. It wasn’t cozy, but it was home. Merek headed straight for the control console, his fingers flying over the cracked keys as he ran a quick diagnostic. Shields were at fifty percent. Weapons systems, online but in need of a damn miracle.

“Trinity!” he barked, his voice carrying through the metal corridors. “Perimeter clear?”

Her voice crackled over the comms. “So far, yeah. No signs of Farrell’s boys, but I don’t trust it. Feels too quiet.”

“It always does,” Merek muttered, pulling up the ship’s defensive protocols. He keyed in a sequence to activate the proximity sensors, a faint pulse rippling out into the night. If anyone got within spitting distance of the ship, he’d know.

Bishop slumped into one of the bolted-down chairs, the datapad still clutched in his hands. “We’re sitting ducks here, you know that, right?”

“Better than being street meat,” Merek shot back, leaning against the console. His gaze flicked to the blinking coordinates on the datapad. “And unless you’ve got a better plan, this is what we’ve got.”

Trinity appeared in the doorway, her scanner dangling from her hand. “Perimeter’s clean. For now. You want me on watch?”

Merek shook his head. “Get some rest. I’ll take first shift.”

Trinity’s smirk was lopsided. “Don’t have to tell me twice.” She flopped into a chair, boots propped on the edge of the console. “Wake me if Farrell shows up with snacks.”

The dingy room stank of stale booze and desperation, matching his mood perfectly.

The mage sat hunched over the map, fingers tracing symbols that glowed an eerie blue. Dark energy crackled around him, making Merek’s skin crawl.

“The hell you up to?” Merek growled, reaching for his blaster.

Void’s head snapped up, eyes burning like twin suns.”Preparing, Merek. You’d sleep better if you didn’t know what for.”

Merek’s trigger finger itched. “Cut the cryptic bullshit. What’s your game?”

A low chuckle escaped Void’s lips. “My game? Oh, you simple, violent man. You couldn’t begin to comprehend...”

“Try me, asshole.”

Trinity stirred, her voice thick with sleep. “Boys, boys... measuring dicks can wait ’til morning.”

Merek grunted, watching as the ship’s scanners swept the desert in rhythmic waves. The pulse was steady, a metronome of unease. Farrell was out there. The bastard always was.

And sooner or later, he’d come knocking.

The sun wasn’t even up when Merek’s eyes snapped open, his hand already on his blaster. “Fuck me,” he groaned, every muscle screaming as he dragged himself upright. The room reeked like a distillery had a one-night stand with a locker room.

His head pounded like a goddamn jackhammer, each throb sending waves of nausea through his gut. Merek fumbled for the canteen by his bunk, cursing as lukewarm water sloshed over his chin. The metallic taste did little to wash away the sandpaper coating his tongue.

“Rise and shine, you magnificent bastards!” he bellowed, kicking the nearest bunk. The whole room groaned in protest, a symphony of creaking metal and muffled curses. Already, the oppressive heat was seeping in, promising another day of sweat-soaked misery.

Merek stumbled to the grimy porthole, squinting at the hellscape beyond. The air outside shimmered, carrying the acrid stench of burnt circuits and God-knows-what from the junkyard beyond. A distant rumble - engine or thunder, who the fuck knew anymore - set his teeth on edge.

“Time to earn our keep, ladies,” he growled, strapping on his gear. Each movement sent fresh waves of pain through his battered body. But pain meant you were alive, and alive meant you still had a job to do.

Bishop shuffled in, looking like he’d been dragged through ten miles of desert, ass-backwards. His eyes were bloodshot, darting between Merek and Trinity before settling on the silent figure by the window.

Merekbit his lip, chewing it like a tobacco leaf. The robed bastard hadn’t moved an inch, still cross-legged and staring out at the dunes like some creepy-ass statue. Void hadn’t so much as flinched, still cross-legged and serene. It wasn’t natural. No one stayed that calm unless they knew something no one else did.

Bishop cleared his throat. “Morning, folks. I see our... friend... is as talkative as ever.”

“Yeah, he’s a real chatterbox,” Merek spat, his hand instinctively tightening on his blaster. Every instinct screamed to put a bolt right between those glowing eyes, but he knew better. They needed the cryptic asshole, at least until they found that wreck.

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” Merek grumbled, hefting his pack. “The sooner we find that wreck, the sooner we can ditch our silent partner here.”

As they started packing up, Void finally stirred. He rose in one fluid motion, those otherworldly eyes gleaming with an intensity that made Merek’s skin crawl. Not a word passed the mage’s lips, but the air seemed to thicken with unspoken threats.

As Merek checked his weapons, he caught a whiff of himself and winced. “Fuck,” he muttered. He stunk like he’d been marinating in Kaot piss all night. Out here, being clean just meant you died prettier.

A cacophony of groans and colorful curses filling the air. Merek allowed himself a grim smile. They were a sorry bunch of misfits, but they were his sorry bunch of misfits. And with any luck, they’d all live long enough to regret whatever came next.

“Good morning, Captain Sunshine,” Trinity chirped, way too goddamn chipper for this ungodly hour. She was hunched over some contraption, sparks flying as she cursed under her breath.

“What in the nine hells are you working on now, Trin?” Merek grumbled, squinting at the mess of wires and metal spread across her workbench. The thing looked like a drunken octopus had fucked a toaster.

“Oh, you know, just your run-of-the-mill quantum flux capacitor,” Trinity grinned, her hair a wild halo of static electricity. “Or maybe it’s a really fancy can opener. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

Merek snorted, leaning in for a closer look. “Looks more like a fucking pipe bomb to me. You sure you know what you’re...”

CRACK! A bolt of blue lightning arced from the device, singing Merek’s eyebrows and sending him stumbling back with a string of curses that would make a Kaotian dock worker blush.

“Shit! Sorry, boss!” Trinity yelped, frantically twisting wires. “Just a minor hiccup in the quantum... uh... thingy.”

“Minor my ass,” Merek growled, patting out the smoldering remains of his facial hair. “You trying to kill us all before breakfast?”

Trinity’s face scrunched up in concentration, her tongue poking out as she made minute adjustments. “If I wanted to kill you, I’d poison your coffee like a normal person. This baby’s gonna save our asses, mark my words.”

The contraption gurgled ominously, a faint smell of ozone filling the air. Merek eyed it warily, half-expecting the damn thing to sprout legs and scuttle away.

“And how exactly is this abomination gonna save us?” he asked, genuinely curious despite himself.

Trinity’s eyes lit up with manic glee. “Well, if my calculations are correct - and they usually are, give or take a small explosion or two - this little beauty will amplify our shield generator by at least 300%. We’ll be practically invincible!”

“Uh-huh,” Merek grunted, unconvinced. “And if your calculations are wrong?”

“Then we’ll make one hell of a pretty fireball,” Trinity shrugged, giving the device an affectionate pat. It sparked in response, sending up a small plume of acrid smoke.

Merek pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building behind his eyes. “Great. As long as it doesn’t explode in my face like that last piece of shit you cobbled together.”

Trinity flipped him off without looking up. “One time, Merek. Let it go.

“One time my ass,” He’d lost count of how many times Trinity’s crazy inventions had saved their asses. Eyebrows grew back. Asses didn’t, unless you spent a couple nights on a pleasure planet’s all you can eat buffet.

The ship’s comm crackled to life, Void’s gravelly voice cutting through the cabin. “Merek, we’ve got a situation topside. You’re gonna want to see this.”

The playful atmosphere evaporated like piss on a hot engine. Merek’s hand instinctively went to his blaster, eyes narrowing as he caught Trinity’s suddenly serious gaze.

“What kind of situation?” he barked into the comm, already moving towards the ladder.

“The kind that’s gonna make you wish you’d stayed in bed,” Void replied, his usual stoic tone tinged with something that might have been worry. On anyone else.

“Fuck,” Merek muttered, gesturing for Trinity to follow. “Grab that death trap of yours. We might need it after all.”

They clambered up to the ship’s exterior, the oppressive heat hitting them like a physical wall. Merek squinted against the glare, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before them.

The desert stretched out in every direction, a sea of twisted metal and broken dreams. Something was different. The air shimmered with more than just heat, strange patterns dancing at the edge of vision. In the distance, a wall of dust was rapidly approaching, shot through with flashes of unnatural light.

“What the fuck is that?” Merek breathed, his grip tightening on his weapon.

Void stood at the edge of the ship, his normally impassive face creased with concern. “I’ve never seen anything like it. But whatever it is, it’s headed straight for us.”

Trinity fumbled with her device, cursing as she made frantic adjustments. “Um, guys? I don’t think my shield booster is gonna cut it against... whatever the hell that is.”

The ground began to tremble beneath their feet, a low rumble building in intensity.

“Alright, you sorry sons of bitches,” he growled, decision made. “Looks like we’re in for one hell of a shitstorm. Trinity, get that contraption of yours online.

Trinity’s fingers flew over her contraption, a manic gleam in her eyes. “C’mon, you beautiful bastard,” she muttered, twisting wires and jamming components together with reckless abandon. The device wheezed and sputtered, belching out puffs of acrid smoke.

The approaching wall of dust loomed ever closer, a roiling mass of chaos punctuated by flashes of sickly green light. The air crackled with electricity, setting everyone’s hair on end. Merek’s grip on his blaster tightened, knuckles white with tension.

“Any fucking day now, Trin!” he barked, eyes never leaving the horizon.

“Keep your pants on, Captain Grumpy,” Trinity shot back, tongue poking out in concentration. She jammed a final wire into place, the contraption humming to life with an ominous whine. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Quantum Shield Booster 3000!”

The device pulsed with energy, arcs of blue lightning dancing across its surface. Trinity grinned triumphantly, slamming her hand down on a comically large red button. “Activating in three... two... one...”

A deafening whine filled the air, the shield generator thrumming with power. For a brief, glorious moment, it looked like it might actually work. Then, with a pathetic wheeze, the contraption sputtered, coughed, and died. A single, sad spark popped from its casing before it went completely dark.

Trinity stared at the useless hunk of metal, jaw hanging open. “Well, shit,” she said eloquently. “Looks like I forgot to carry the two.”

Merek’s face twisted into a mask of disbelief and rage. “You forgot to carry the fucking two?!”

“Hey, quantum mechanics is hard!” Trinity protested, kicking the dead contraption. It let out a pitiful squeak. “Besides, I’d like to see you do better with a bunch of scrap metal and half a bottle of engine lube!”

With a frustrated growl, Trinity hefted the failed device and hurled it into the sand. It landed with a dull thud, immediately swallowed by the encroaching storm. “So much for Plan A,” she quipped, dusting off her hands. “Anyone got a Plan B? Or maybe a really big gun?”

The words had barely left Trinity’s mouth when the world exploded.

A blinding flash seared Merek’s retinas, turning the hellscape into a sea of white. The shockwave hit a split-second later, slamming into his chest like a freight train. His ears rang with a high-pitched whine, drowning out everything else.

Time slowed to a crawl. Merek watched in surreal slow-motion as Trinity’s hair whipped around her face, her mouth open in a silent scream. Void’s robes billowed outward, rippling like dark water. Sand particles hung suspended in the air, glittering like tiny diamonds.

The ground beneath their feet rippled and groaned, buckling under some immense pressure. Merek felt his stomach lurch as the ship tilted wildly, threatening to spill them into the churning chaos below. Sand flew everywhere, stinging exposed skin and filling the air with a choking haze.

As the initial shock faded, Merek’s senses slowly returned. The ringing in his ears gave way to a cacophony of creaking metal and panicked shouts. He blinked furiously, trying to clear the spots from his vision.

“What the fuck was that?!” he roared, or tried to. His voice sounded muffled and distant, like he was shouting underwater.

Trinity was sprawled on the deck, looking dazed but alive. Void had somehow managed to keep his footing, his glowing eyes scanning the horizon with laser focus.

“There!” Void’s voice cut through the chaos, unnaturally clear. He pointed towards the writhing wall of dust and energy.

Merek squinted, following Void’s outstretched arm. The anomaly was banking hard to the left, its chaotic patterns shifting and reforming. As it turned, Merek caught a glimpse of something that made his blood run cold.

A segmented body, easily a hundred meters long, undulated through the storm. Armored plates glinted dully, each segment larger than their entire ship. At the front, a circular maw lined with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth gaped hungrily.

“Fuck me sideways,” Merek breathed, recognition dawning. “That’s a goddamn Kekhi Worm.”

The Kekhi Worm’s shriek split the air like a thousand nails on a cosmic chalkboard. Merek’s teeth rattled in his skull as the sound wave hit, threatening to liquefy his brain. He staggered, nearly losing his footing on the tilting deck.

“We’re fucked!” Trinity yelled, scrambling to her feet. “That thing’ll swallow us whole and shit out our bones!”

Merek’s mind raced, adrenaline flooding his system. The Kekhi Worm banked again, its massive body carving a trench through the desert. Each undulation sent tremors through the ground, kicking up clouds of sand and debris.

“Not if I can help it,” he growled, an idea forming. It was stupid, reckless, and probably suicidal. In other words, just his style. “Void! How many of those arcane grenades you got left?”

The mage’s eyes flashed, understanding dawning. “Three,” he replied, already reaching into the folds of his robe. “But they’re unstable as hell. One wrong move and we’ll be vaporized.”

“Perfect,” Merek grinned, a manic light in his eyes. “Trin, I need the biggest, brightest flashbang you can cobble together. And I need it five minutes ago.”

Trinity’s face lit up with unholy glee. “One Supernova Special, coming right up!” She dove for her toolbox, hands flying as she assembled components with lightning speed.

The Kekhi Worm circled closer, its massive body blotting out the sun. The air crackled with eldritch energy, setting Merek’s hair on end. He could see flashes of alien circuitry beneath its armored plates, pulsing with an otherworldly glow.

“Whatever you’re planning, make it quick!” Void shouted, his usual calm demeanor cracking. “That thing’s about to make us its breakfast!”

Trinity popped up, holding what looked like a rugby ball made of duct tape and blinking lights. “Done! But we’ve only got one shot. This baby’s got enough kick to light up half the planet!”

Merek snatched the makeshift flashbang, nearly dropping it as it hummed ominously in his hand. “Alright, you crazy bastards,” he growled, eyes locked on the approaching monstrosity. “Time to make some noise.”

The Kekhi Worm reared up, its circular maw gaping wide enough to swallow a small moon. Rows of serrated teeth gnashed hungrily, dripping with a viscous fluid that hissed and bubbled as it hit the sand.

Merek wound up. With a roar that came from the depths of his soul, he hurled the flashbang straight into the creature’s maw.

Itsailed through the air in a perfect arc, a tiny speck against the Kekhi Worm’s gargantuan form. Time seemed to slow as it disappeared into the creature’s gaping maw, swallowed by the abyss of gnashing teeth and writhing flesh.

For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Merek’s breath caught in his throat, a string of curses dancing on the tip of his tongue.

Then the world exploded.

The flashbang detonated with the force of a miniature sun, unleashing a blinding supernova of light and sound. The Kekhi Worm’s massive body convulsed, its segmented form twisting in agony as the blast rippled through its innards. A shriek of pain and rage tore through the air, drowning out even the howling wind of the storm.

Merek threw his arm across his eyes, spots dancing in his vision even through his closed lids. The shockwave hit a split second later, nearly knocking him off his feet.

The Kekhi Worm thrashed wildly, its massive body whipping back and forth like a cosmic serpent caught in the throes of death. Each convulsion sent tremors through the ground, threatening to tear the very planet apart. The air crackled with eldritch energy, bolts of sickly green lightning arcing between the creature’s armored segments.

“Holy shit!” Trinity screamed, her voice barely audible over the cacophony. “It’s working!”

The worm’s circular maw gaped wide, vomiting forth a torrent of molten metal and half-digested scrap. The deluge of superheated slag rained down, hissing and bubbling as it hit the sand. Merek dove for cover, feeling the heat sear his back even through his armor.

“Void, now!” he bellowed, rolling to his feet.

The mage was already in motion, his robes billowing as he hurled the arcane grenades in rapid succession. Each one streaked through the air, trailing ribbons of otherworldly energy.

The arcane grenades slammed into the Kekhi Worm’s thrashing body, erupting in a kaleidoscope of eldritch fire. Reality itself seemed to warp and twist around the impact points. The worm’s armored plates buckled and cracked, revealing pulsing circuitry and writhing alien flesh beneath.

A deafening screech tore through the air as the creature convulsed in agony. Its segmented body whipped back and forth, each movement unleashing shockwaves that sent tremors rippling through the desert floor. Sand geysers erupted all around, temporary mountains of silica rising and falling in chaotic patterns.

Chunks of the worm’s hide sloughed off, revealing a glowing, crystalline skeleton beneath. The creature’s innards pulsed with an otherworldly light, casting eerie shadows across the battlefield. Arcs of energy danced between exposed segments, wild and uncontrolled.

“Holy fucking shit!” Trinity whooped, pumping her fist in the air. “We actually hurt the bastard!”

The Kekhi Worm’s movements became more erratic, its once graceful undulations now jerky and uncoordinated. Sparks showered from its damaged segments, igniting small fires in the debris-strewn sand. The air filled with an acrid stench of burnt metal and ozone, making Merek’s eyes water.

The worm began to retreat. Its massive body coiled and uncoiled, each movement sending out ripples of displaced sand and air.

As it slithered away, the Kekhi Worm left a trail of destruction in its wake. Twisted metal and half-digested scrap rained down, pock-marking the desert with smoldering craters.

Merek watched as the creature disappeared into the swirling maelstrom of sand and energy. The storm front receded with it, leaving behind an eerie calm punctuated only by the hiss and pop of cooling metal.

Trinity collapsed to her knees, laughing hysterically. “Take that, you overgrown sand worm!” she crowed, flipping off the retreating dust cloud. “Next time, pick on someone your own size!”

“In all my years,” Void said, “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

The silence after the Kekhi Worm was almost worse than the fight. A thick, heavy quiet settled over the wreck, broken only by the pop of cooling metal and the distant rumble of collapsing dunes. Merek leaned on his knees, catching his breath, sand caked into every line of his face. His ribs screamed, his lungs burned, but he was still standing.

Barely.

Trinity sat sprawled on a crate, chest heaving as she pulled her goggles off, leaving cleaner streaks in the grime on her face. “Well,” she rasped, her voice shredded, “that was a great way to start the day. Real team-building shit.”

Merek shot her a glare, but it lacked heat. “You want team-building? Next time, join a fucking book club.”

Void hadn’t moved. The robed bastard stood staring out at the horizon where the storm had finally faded, his expression inscrutable as ever.

Merek wanted to yell at him, to demand what came next, but the exhaustion kept him rooted in place.

Trinity coughed, dry and painful, but managed a crooked grin. “So... pancakes, anyone? Or are we skipping straight to the part where we almost die again?”

“You really think this is worth it?” he asked, not sure if he was talking to Trinity or himself.

She paused, meeting his eyes. “You getting cold feet on me, Mad Man?”

Merek snorted. “Just wondering if we’re walking into a fucking death trap.”

“When aren’t we?” Trinity shot back, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Fair point,” Merek conceded, holstering his weapon. He took one last look around the grimy room, his gut churning. “Let’s go find out what kind of shit we’re in for today.”

Trinity’s hands flew over the Ranger’s charred circuits, her face smeared with grease. “I’ll have this rust bucket breathing before you’re back,” she promised, a spark of determination in her eyes.

Merek snorted, checking his blaster for the hundredth time. “Good, or we’re not coming back at all.” The words hung in the air like a fucking death sentence.

“Just don’t get your ass blown to bits out there,” Trinity shot back, her voice tight. “I ain’t dragging your sorry corpse back here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Merek growled, but his gut churned. This wasn’t just another scavenger run. This was walking into the mouth of hell with a robed psychopath as their tour guide.

The desert sun hit like a sledgehammer as they stepped out. Merek squinted, his hand already on his blaster. Bishop fell in beside him, looking about as comfortable as a preacher in a whorehouse.

“Ready for this shitshow?” Merek muttered.

Bishop grunted. “As I’ll ever be. Let’s hope the Almighty’s got our backs today.”

“Fuck that,” Merek spat. “I’ll take a loaded gun over divine intervention any day.”

They set off, each step sinking into sand that seemed eager to swallow them whole. Merek’s eyes never stopped sweeping the horizon, every shadow a potential threat. And always, always, he felt those burning eyes of Void on his back.

The sun climbed higher, turning the desert into a fucking pressure cooker. Waves of heat shimmered off the dunes, warping the horizon into a twisted funhouse mirror. Merek’s boots sank into sand hot enough to fry an egg. The sand shifted with each step.

“Shit,” Bishop panted, wiping rivers of sweat from his face. “It’s hotter than a whore’s ass in church out here.” He fumbled for his canteen, cursing as lukewarm water dribbled down his chin.

Merek grunted in agreement, his own throat parched as sandpaper. The air felt thick, almost solid, like trying to breathe through a wet blanket. His eyes stung from the constant assault of sand and grit carried on the hot wind.

A flicker of movement caught his attention. Void stopped, crouching to examine... something. The mage’s glowing eyes narrowed as he scooped up a handful of sand, letting it sift through his fingers. The grains seemed to cling to his skin, swirling in unnatural patterns before falling away.

“The fuck you doing?”Merek asked.

Void rose in one fluid motion, otherworldly eyes locking onto Merek. “The desert remembers,” he intoned, his voice as dry as the wasteland around them. “It carries echoes of what has passed.”

“Great,” Merek spat, fighting the urge to put a bolt right between those creepy eyes. “Real helpful. You got any actual intel, or just more cryptic bullshit?”

The mage’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile on a human face. “We’re close,” he said simply, before gliding past Merek with unnatural grace.

Bishop sidled up, his face a mask of concern. “I don’t like it, Merek,” he muttered. “Something ain’t right about all this.”

“No shit,” Merek growled, watching Void’s retreating form. “But we’re in too deep to back out now. Keep your eyes peeled and your trigger finger ready.”

They pressed on, the relentless sun beating down like the wrath of an angry god. Merek’s skin felt tight, every exposed inch threatening to blister and peel. Sweat trickled down his spine, pooling uncomfortably in places he’d rather not think about.

A distant rumble sent vibrations through the sand, setting Merek’s teeth on edge. “The fuck was that?” he hissed, scanning the shimmering horizon.

Bishop’s face paled beneath his sunburn. “Please tell me that was just your stomach, Merek.”

Another tremor, stronger this time. The dunes seemed to ripple, like waves on some hellish ocean of sand.

“Move!” Merek roared, breaking into a dead sprint. Sand kicked up behind him as he charged forward, every muscle screaming in protest. Bishop wheezed beside him, struggling to keep pace.

The rumbling grew louder, a bone-shaking roar that drowned out even the pounding of Merek’s heart. The ground beneath their feet bucked and heaved like a living thing. Dunes collapsed in on themselves, creating sinkholes that threatened to swallow them whole.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Merek cursed, dodging a geyser of superheated sand that erupted to his left. The air filled with a sickly hiss as particles flash-fried into glass, raining down in a deadly shower of crystalline shrapnel.

Void glided ahead of them, his robes billowing impossibly in the chaos. The mage’s hands wove intricate patterns in the air, leaving trails of sickly green energy. Where his feet touched the ground, the sand briefly solidified, providing precious seconds of stable footing.

A massive shadow fell over them, blotting out the sun. Merek’s blood ran cold as he risked a glance over his shoulder. The Kekhi Worm burst from the sand like some nightmarish leviathan, its segmented body twisting in impossible shapes. Its circular maw gaped wide, lined with row upon row of gnashing teeth.

“Oh, you gotta be shitting me!” Merek bellowed, redoubling his pace. His lungs burned, every breath tasting of sand and desperation.

The worm’s shriek split the air, a sound that bypassed the ears and clawed directly into the brain.

Bishop stumbled, clutching his head in agony. Merek grabbed the man’s collar, dragging him forward even as his own vision swam.

“Don’t you fucking dare quit on me now!” he roared, spittle flying from his cracked lips.

Void’s voice cut through the chaos, unnaturally calm. “There!” he shouted, pointing towards a shimmering patch of air. “The veil is thin here!”

Merek squinted, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The air seemed to ripple and fold in on itself, like looking at the world through a soap bubble. Strange geometries flickered at the edges of his vision, hinting at impossible angles and mind-bending curves.

“What the fuck is that?!” he screamed, even as his feet carried him towards the anomaly.

“Our salvation,” Void replied cryptically, his glowing eyes fixed on the shimmering air. “A shortcut.”

The Kekhi Worm’s massive body slammed into the ground behind them, sending out a shockwave that knocked them off their feet. Merek tumbled, sand scouring every exposed inch of skin. He tasted blood, teeth rattling in his skull.

It’d already been one hell of a day.

The silence stretched on, thick and suffocating as the heat.

Bishop cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the tension. “Ever think we’d be out here hunting a relic that might kill us all?”

Merek snorted, a humorless smirk twisting his lips. “Every damn day, old man.” He spat to the side, tasting sand and bitterness. “It’s our fucking specialty, ain’t it?”

Bishop chuckled, but it was a hollow sound. “Suppose you’re right. Still, this one feels... different.”

They crested another dune, and Merek’s blood ran cold. His eyes locked onto movement at the edge of town – dark figures, watching. Waiting.

“Fuck me,” he growled, pulse spiking. “We’re being followed.”

Bishop’s hand went to his weapon, but Merek’s gaze was fixed on Void. The mage’s eyes flickered with that eerie glow, a knowing gleam that made Merek’s skin crawl.

“You gonna share with the class, you cryptic son of a bitch?” Merek snarled, but Void said nothing. He wanted to grab Void by his fancy robes and shake some answers out of him, but there wasn’t time. Not with those shadows creeping closer.

“Move your asses!” Merek barked, signaling the others forward. “Double-time it, or we’re buzzard shit!”

Bishop wheezed, struggling to keep pace. Merek’s gut twisted – the old man was tough as nails, but this hellscape was pushing him to the limit.

“Come on, you crusty bastard,” Merek growled, half-dragging Bishop along. “I ain’t carrying your dead weight back to Trinity.”

“Charming as ever,” Bishop gasped, but there was a glint of determination in his eyes.

Void glided ahead, seemingly unbothered by the punishing pace. Merek’s jaw clenched. How the fuck did that freak make it look so easy?

Sweat poured down Merek’s face, stinging his eyes. His thoughts raced. What if this was all for nothing? What if they were walking into a trap? What if–

“Holy shit,” Bishop’s whisper cut through Merek’s spiraling thoughts.

They’d reached the top of a rise.

The dune fell away before them. A massive crater stretched out below, easily a mile across, its edges jagged and crystallized from some ancient impact.

At the center of the crater lay the crashed ship, a behemoth of twisted metal and alien design. Its hull gleamed dully in the harsh sunlight, a patchwork of scorched plating and exposed circuitry. The vessel’s form defied conventional logic, all spiraling spires and jagged metal gleaming in the harsh sun.

Bishop let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a sight.”

Even Void’s cool facade cracked for a second, his otherworldly eyes widening.

Merek’s hand tightened on his blaster. “Yeah,” he muttered, “and I’ve got a feeling it ain’t gonna be friendly.”

They started down towards the ship.

A guttural howl ripped through the air.

“Fuck me sideways,” he snarled, yanking his blaster free.

Figures emerged from the dunes, armed to the teeth and looking mean as sin. Merek counted at least a dozen, probably more hidden in the shifting sands.

“This just got interesting,” he growled, a savage grin spreading across his face.

Bishop fumbled for his own weapon. “Interesting? You’ve got a warped sense of fun, Merek.”

“What can I say? I’m a glutton for punishment.” Merek’s mind raced. They were outnumbered, outgunned, and caught with their pants down.

“Any bright ideas, oh fearless leader?” Bishop wheezed, his face pale beneath the sunburn.

Merek’s eyes darted between their attackers and the crashed ship. “Yeah. Don’t die.”

He fired off a volley of shots, sending two of the bastards tumbling down the dune. “Move your asses! We make it to that wreck, we might have a chance!”

As they sprinted towards the ship, plasma bolts sizzled past Merek’s ear. He could smell his own singed hair. Void glided ahead, untouched by the chaos. Merek’s teeth ground together.

“I’m getting too old for this shit!” Bishop yelled, ducking as another blast nearly took his head off.

Merek grabbed the old man’s collar, practically dragging him along. “Save your breath for running, you prehistoric fuck!”

They were almost to the ship. Merek’s lungs burned, his legs screamed, but the familiar rush of adrenaline sang in his veins.

As they reached the hulking wreckage, Merek spun, laying down cover fire. “Get inside!” he roared. “And pray to whatever gods you believe in that this hunk of junk has some defenses left!”

Merek’s blaster whined, overheating as he emptied another clip. “Fuck me sideways,” he snarled, slamming a fresh power cell home.

Bishop stumbled, catching himself on a jagged shard of metal. “Merek! We got company!”

Three bandits crested the dune, howling like rabid dogs. Merek’s lip curled. “Then let’s give ‘em a proper welcome.”

He squeezed off two shots, dropping the first bandit.

Another bandit’s head exploded in a spray of red mist.

“Show-off!” Merek bellowed back, grinning like a maniac. He swung his blaster toward the last bandit, but the bastard was quick. A plasma bolt sizzled past Merek’s ear, close enough to singe his hair.

“Shit!” Bishop dove for cover behind a rusted-out hoverbike. “Void! A little help here would be fucking nice!”

Silence. Merek risked a glance over his shoulder. Where the hell was that creepy son of a bitch?

A blood-curdling scream ripped through the air. The final bandit’s body lifted off the ground, writhing in mid-air like a puppet on invisible strings. There was a sickening crunch of bone, and the lifeless corpse dropped to the sand.

Void materialized from the shadows, his eyes glowing with unholy power. “You called?” he purred.

Merek spat. “Took your sweet time, didn’t you? What, were you waiting for a goddamn invitation?”

Void’s lips curled into a mirthless smile. “I merely wanted to see how you’d handle it. I must say, I’m... disappointed.”

“Fuck you,” Merek growled, shoving past him.

Void turned to Merek, his glowing eyes narrowing. “You cling to your blaster like it’s salvation,” he said, voice low. “One day, it won’t be enough.”

Like cockroaches to sunlight, the dunes exploded with movement as the rest of the raider crew crested into view.

Without waiting for a response, Void stepped into the chaos, shadows writhing at his heels as a nearby bandit caught a face full of Bishop’s mace.

“Still got some fight in you, old man!” Merek whooped.

Bishop spat blood, grinning. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, sonny.”

Bandits charged, vibroblades humming. Merek’s blaster clicked empty. “Ah, shit.”

He ducked, the blade whistling over his head. Grabbing a fistful of sand, he flung it in the bastard’s eyes. The bandit howled, giving Merek the opening to drive his knee into the fucker’s gut.

“Bishop!” Merek roared, struggling to keep the blade from his throat. “Little help here!”

Bishop whirled, his eyes blazing with righteous fury. “Hang on, you crazy bastard!” he bellowed. The cleric’s hands began to glow with a searing white light, pulsing with divine energy.

“In nomine sancti!” Bishop roared, slamming his palm against the ground. A shockwave of pure force rippled outward, knocking the bandits off their feet like bowling pins. Merek felt the surge wash over him, invigorating his battered body.

“Hot damn!” Merek crowed, springing to his feet with renewed vigor. He drove his fist into the nearest bandit’s face, feeling bones crunch beneath his knuckles. “Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

Bishop was already moving, his mace a blur of righteous destruction. He caught one bandit in the ribs, the sickening crack of shattered bone punctuated by an agonized scream. Another rushed him from behind, but Bishop was ready. He spun, his free hand erupting in golden light as he grabbed the attacker’s face.

“Purge the unclean!” Bishop growled. The bandit’s flesh began to bubble and melt, his screams cut short as he crumpled to the ground, twitching.

Merek whistled low. “Remind me never to piss you off, old man.”

A plasma bolt sizzled past, scorching the sand at their feet.

Bishop’s mace glowed with holy light, connecting with a sickening crunch, caving in the bandit’s skull. It melted away to dust. “On your six!” he bellowed.

Merek spun, narrowly avoiding a vibroblade to the kidney. He grabbed the attacker’s wrist, twisting until bones snapped. The bandit screamed. Merek headbutted him, blood and teeth spraying.

“Fucking amateurs,” he snarled, snatching up the fallen vibroblade. Another rushed him, and Merek grinned like a demon. The blade hummed to life, slicing through armor and flesh with equal ease. “Who’s next?!”

A bolt of crackling energy lanced over his shoulder, incinerating two more bandits. Void stood atop a dune, arms outstretched, tendrils of dark power writhing around him.

“Show-off,” Merek shouted.

The cleric’s mace connected with another sickening crunch. A bandit went limp from impact.

Panting, Merek shoved the corpse aside. “Thanks for the assist.”

Bishop nodded, leaning heavily on his weapon. “Don’t mention it. Now, how about we find someplace less exposed before the rest of those bastards regroup?”

“Fall back!” Merek bellowed, his voice cutting through the chaos like a plasma blade. He grabbed Bishop’s arm, hauling the old cleric upright as the fucker nearly ate shit on a rock. “Move your holy ass!”

Bishop stumbled forward, muttering, “I’m moving, I’m moving. Damnation, boy, you trying to dislocate my shoulder?”

Merek’s eyes darted around, tracking threats.

A war cry split the air. Merek’s head snapped up to see a hulking bandit charging, vibro-axe raised high.

“Void!” Merek roared. “Little help here!”

The mage’s hand flicked out, casual as lighting a smoke. The air around him seemed to shudder. A faint, crackling hum rippled outward, setting Merek’s teeth on edge.

The charging bandit froze mid-step, his muscles locking as if an invisible vice had clamped down on his entire body. His eyes bulged, rolling back until only the whites showed, veins darkening and spidering across his neck like creeping vines.

The air grew heavier, an oppressive stillness wrapping around them.

A low, guttural groan escaped the bandit’s throat, cut short as his knees buckled. He hit the sand like a sack of scrap metal, a lifeless heap, steam hissing faintly from his skin.

Merek swallowed hard, the taste of copper thick on his tongue. “Holy fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on his blaster. The residual energy prickling at his skin.

Void lowered his hand slowly, his expression unreadable. The mage’s robes swirled faintly around him, moved by currents that didn’t seem to exist. Whatever Void had done, it hadn’t been just power. It had been precision.

Lethal. Efficient. Terrifying.

Merek’s gaze darted to Void, then back to the crumpled figure in the sand. “Fuck me,” Merek breathed. Sometimes Void’s power scared him more than the bastards trying to kill them.

They crashed through the splintered opening of a downed smuggler’s ship, the metal groaning in protest. Merek’s lungs burned as he gulped in air, tasting sand and ozone.

The ship’s interior was a fucking nightmare. Twisted metal jutted out at jagged angles, ready to gut anyone stupid enough to move too fast. Sparks rained down from exposed wiring, casting eerie shadows that danced across scorched walls. The stench of ozone and rotting meat hung thick in the air.

“Hooooly shit,” Merek wheezed, his eyes watering. “What the hell happened in here?”

Bishop stumbled, his boot squelching in something dark and viscous. “I don’t think we want to know,” he muttered, wiping his sole on a less-slick patch of floor.

Void glided in behind them, his robes barely disturbing the layers of dust and debris. His glowing eyes swept the carnage, lingering on long-dried bloodstains that painted grotesque patterns across bulkheads and control panels.

“Fascinating,” the mage murmured, reaching out to trace a line of alien script etched into a nearby wall. The symbols seemed to writhe under his touch, pulsing with a sickly green light.

“Don’t fucking touch anything,” Merek snarled, slapping Void’s hand away. “Last thing we need is you triggering some nasty-ass curse or…”

A low, mechanical groan echoed through the ship’s bones, setting Merek’s teeth on edge. Rusted gears ground against each other, the noise building to a fever pitch. The ship shuddered, metal screaming as ancient systems lurched to life.

“Fuck!” Merek shouted, diving for cover as a panel exploded outward in a shower of sparks. “What’d I just fucking say?!”

Bishop threw himself flat, narrowly avoiding decapitation as a twisted girder swung down from the ceiling. “Void! Shut it down!”

The mage stood motionless, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly light. His lips moved in a silent incantation, fingers tracing arcane symbols in the air.

A howl like a damned soul tore through the ship. The deck plates buckled, warping into impossible shapes. Merek felt his stomach lurch as gravity seemed to twist, pulling him sideways and then up toward the ceiling.

“Son of a bitch!” he roared, scrabbling for purchase on the suddenly fluid metal. His fingers found a jagged edge, slicing deep. Blood welled up, sizzling as it hit the deck.

Bishop’s mace glowed with holy light, the cleric muttering rapid-fire prayers as he clung to a control panel. “Whatever you’re doing, Void, do it faster!”

The air crackled with ozone, reality bending like a mirage. Through the haze, Merek caught glimpses of... something. Writhing tentacles. Gnashing teeth. Eyes that burned with alien hunger.

“Oh fuck me sideways.” Bishop’s knuckles were white around his mace. Merek half expected to hear the weapon’s handle crack under the pressure.

“Everyone in one piece?” Merek growled, doing a quick visual check.

Bishop nodded, still panting. “More or less. Though I think I left half a lung back there.”

Merek’s gaze shifted to Void, who stood at the jagged opening, those unnatural eyes fixed on the dying chaos outside. The mage’s silence set Merek’s teeth on edge worse than the lingering gunfire.

“Hey, Void,” Merek snapped. “You planning on sharing with the class, or are we playing twenty fucking questions?”

Void’s head turned slowly, those glowing eyes boring into Merek. A chill ran down his spine, but he’d be damned if he showed it.

“Well?” Merek pressed, hand itching to grab his blaster. “What’s got you so spooked?”

“Don’t get comfortable,” Merek spat, eyeing the metallic guts of the ship around them. His fingers twitched, itching to grab his blaster. Something wasn’t right. The air felt... wrong.

A faint whir caught his ear. Gears? Fuck.

“Move!” he shouted, but it was too late.

The floor shifted beneath them like a giant, mechanical beast waking up. Bishop’s boots lost traction, and suddenly the old man was sliding towards a yawning pit that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Shit! Merek!” Bishop’s weathered face contorted in panic as he dangled over the edge, fingers digging into warped metal.

A metallic shriek pierced the air. Something was coming up from below, all teeth and hunger.

Merek lunged, his body slamming against the jagged metal as he reached for Bishop. Pain lanced through his side where a twisted shard gouged deep. “Fuck!” he snarled, gritting his teeth against the burning agony.

His fingers locked around Bishop’s wrist, slick with sweat and blood. The old man’s eyes were wide, terror etched into every line of his weathered face.

“I’ve got you!” Merek roared, muscles straining as he fought to pull Bishop up. His biceps screamed in protest, tendons threatening to snap under the strain. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes and blurring his vision.

The pit yawned beneath them, a gaping maw of darkness and grinding metal. Something moved in the shadows, a flash of gleaming teeth and glowing red eyes. A low, mechanical growl echoed up from the depths, setting Merek’s teeth on edge.

“Hurry!” Bishop gasped, his free hand clawing at the warped metal. The edges of the pit were razor-sharp, slicing into Merek’s palms as he struggled for purchase. Blood welled up, making his grip even more precarious.

The floor shuddered again, threatening to give way entirely. Merek felt the metal beneath his chest flexing, ready to dump them both into the abyss.

“Come on, you sonofabitch!” he snarled, muscles burning

“Get me the fuck up, Merek!” Bishop snarled, eyes wild. “Now!”

“I gotcha,” Merek grunted, sweat pouring down his face. “Don’t you dare let go, you hear me?”

With a roar of effort, Merek hauled Bishop up, inch by agonizing inch. His back felt like it was on fire, but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

“Any time you wanna lend a hand, you spooky fuck,” Merek barked at Void, who stood there watching like this was some kind of goddamn spectator sport.

Void’s lips curled into that infuriating smirk, but he said nothing. Just stood there, observing, those unnatural eyes taking it all in.

“Useless piece of shit,” Merek muttered, giving one final heave. Bishop tumbled onto solid ground, both of them panting.

Merek’s thoughts flickered to Trinity, back at the ship. She’d kill him if she knew what he was dragging them into. Hell, he’d kill himself if they didn’t make it out.

“Thanks,” Bishop wheezed. “Thought I was monster chow for a second there.”

Merek’s eyes narrowed at Void. “You get off on watching us nearly die?”

Void’s smirk widened, but still, he said nothing.

“Fuck,” Merek spat.

Merek’s boots crunched on sun-bleached bones as they pushed through the wasteland. The heat slammed down like a fucking anvil, sweat pouring off him in rivers.

“This place is a goddamn graveyard,” he growled, kicking aside a rusted blaster. His eyes scanned the horizon, muscles tense. Something about this whole mess stank worse than week-old bogey shit.

The sun cast long shadows that seemed to writhe and twist with a life of their own. Jagged spires of twisted metal jutted from the sand like the ribs of some monstrous beast, glinting with an oily sheen that made Merek’s skin crawl. Bones - some human, some decidedly not - littered the ground, bleached white by the merciless sun.

A gust of wind kicked up, carrying with it the stench of decay and something else, something alien and wrong. Merek’s hand tightened on his blaster, eyes darting to catch glimpses of movement at the edge of his vision. But every time he turned, there was nothing there but shifting sand and dancing shadows.

“You see that?” he hissed to Bishop, nodding towards a dune where he could have sworn he saw something slither beneath the surface.

Bishop squinted, his weathered face creased with concern. “I don’t see anything, but... I feel it. Something ain’t right here, Merek.”

A glint caught his eye. Merek bent down, fingers closing around a battered helmet. As he flipped it over, his gut clenched.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, staring at the scratches inside. Symbols, carved deep, made his skin crawl. “Bishop! Get your ass over here!”

He tossed the helm to the old cleric, who caught it with a grunt. “The hell is this, Merek? I’m not your personal archaeologist.”

“Just look at the damn thing,” Merek snapped, eyes darting to Void. The mage’s silence was starting to get real fucking old.

Bishop’s frown deepened as he traced the symbols. “Well, shit,” he breathed. “This is old, Merek. Really fucking old.”

Merek’s hand tightened on his blaster. “How old we talking?”

“Older than dirt,” Bishop muttered, sweat dripping off his nose. “Older than most of the relics I’ve seen. This... this ain’t good.”

Void stepped closer, those creepy eyes of his narrowing as he peered at the helm. Still, the bastard said nothing.

Bishop squinted at the writing, his weathered face contorting. “It’s a warning,” he breathed, the words barely more than a whisper.

Merek’s head snapped towards Void, expecting some smart-ass comment. But the mage’s glowing eyes were locked on the runes, unreadable and, for the first time, wary.

“You gonna enlighten us, or do we gotta play twenty fucking questions?” Merek growled.

Void’s lips tightened, but he remained silent.

“Goddamnit,” Merek muttered. He knows something. The realization made his blood run cold.

Merek’s teeth ground together. “You got something to share with the class, Void? Or you just gonna keep standing there like a goddamn statue?”

The mage’s silence stretched on, setting Merek’s nerves on fire.

Merek’s jaw clenched tighter with each passing second of Void’s silence. A vein throbbed in his temple, pulsing in time with his mounting frustration. His fingers twitched, itching to grab the mage by his fancy robes and shake some answers out of him.

“I swear to every fucking god, Void,” Merek growled, his voice low and dangerous. “If you don’t start talking, I’m gonna…”

He froze mid-threat as the air around Void began to shimmer. The symbols on the battered helm flickered to life, pulsing with an eerie, sickly green glow. Shadows seemed to deepen and twist around the mage, writhing like living things.

“Holy shit,” Bishop breathed, taking an involuntary step back.

Void’s eyes blazed with an otherworldly light as he traced a finger along the helm’s surface. The symbols reacted to his touch, twisting and reshaping themselves into new, even more unsettling patterns.

“This artifact,” Void finally spoke, his voice resonating with barely contained power, “is a key.”

Merek’s fists clenched so tight his knuckles went white. “A key to what, you cryptic asshole?”

A mirthless smile curled Void’s lips. “To something best left buried, Merek. Something ancient. Something hungry.”

The shadows around Void pulsed.

A low rumble vibrated through their boots, and Merek’s gut twisted. “Shit,” he snarled. “This isn’t just the wind.”

Bishop’s head jerked up. “Merek…”

“I see ‘em.” Shadows shifted in the distance, figures moving against the backdrop of the dunes. Watching. Hunting.

Merek’s finger tensed on the trigger. “Eyes up, you sorry bastards,” he barked. “We got company.”

“Bishop, you got any of that holy firepower left?” Merek asked, scanning the horizon.

“Enough to make ‘em regret crawling out of whatever hole they came from,” the cleric growled.

Merek nodded. “Good. ‘Cause I got a feeling we’re gonna need every damn trick we’ve got.”

The wind kicked up, pelting them with stinging sand as they stumbled forward. Merek’s boots crunched over sun-bleached bones, his gut churning at the sight of a half-buried stone monolith looming ahead, towering over them, a jagged finger of obsidian stabbing at the sky.

Its surface writhed with symbols that hurt Merek’s eyes to look at directly, pulsing with a sickly green glow that seemed to suck the light from the air around it. Twisted figures were carved into the stone - creatures with too many limbs and gnashing teeth, their eyes blank and hungry.

As they approached, Merek’s vision blurred, the symbols swimming before his eyes. His chest tightened, breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Beside him, Bishop muttered a prayer, squinting at the symbols. His weathered face creased in concentration. “It’s... It’s not just a warning,” he muttered, sweat beading on his brow. “It’s a goddamn prophecy.”

“Well don’t keep us in suspense, old man,” Merek growled, eyes darting between the monolith and the shifting shadows on the dunes.

Bishop’s face paled. “The Sleeper beneath the sands,” he translated haltingly. “Guarded by... oh shit.”

“What?” Merek snapped. “Guarded by what?”

“By its children,” Bishop whispered, his eyes wide with horror. “The warning isn’t just about the monolith, Merek. It’s about what’s protecting it.”

The sand at the base of the monolith began to churn.

A roar, deep and bone-shaking, split the air, drowning out Merek’s string of curses.

“Whatever the hell that is,” Merek growled, “I don’t think it’s here to make friends.”

“Bishop,” Merek barked, “you got any bright ideas? ‘Cause I’m fresh out of miracles, and our creepy friend here isn’t exactly volunteering information.”

The old cleric’s eyes narrowed, scanning the horizon. “We need to move. Now.”

“No shit,” Merek spat. “But where? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re surrounded by nothing but sand and more fucking sand.”

Another tremor shook the ground, nearly knocking them off their feet.

The ground beneath their feet trembled, a low rumble that Merek felt in his bones. Sand hissed and shifted, trickling down the dunes like water. The air took on a metallic tang, sharp and acrid, burning the back of Merek’s throat with each ragged breath.

“Fuck this noise,” Merek snarled, his eyes darting between the writhing sand and the looming monolith. “We make a run for it. Now.”

He grabbed Bishop’s arm, hauling the old man forward as another tremor rocked the ground. The vibrations intensified, sand spraying up in geysers around them as something burrowed beneath the surface.

“Move your holy ass!” Merek roared, his boots pounding across the unstable terrain. Each step sent shockwaves of pain up his legs.

A shriek split the air, high-pitched and guttural. Merek risked a glance over his shoulder and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Massive, segmented limbs erupted from the sand, each easily as thick as Merek’s torso. They writhed and thrashed, kicking up clouds of stinging particles that burned Merek’s eyes and clogged his nostrils. The creature’s body followed – a nightmarish blend of insect and something far worse. Its carapace gleamed with an otherworldly glow.

“Void,” he snarled, rounding on the silent mage. “You better start talking, or I swear I’ll…”

The rest of his threat was cut off by an explosion of sand erupting behind them, showering them with scorching grit.