The crimson sands of Dead Omen Star, churned into a grotesque tapestry of ichor and shattered exoskeletons, bore witness to the Federation team's newfound rhythm. The initial encounters with the Starbugs, though harrowing, had sharpened their instincts. With Janice's uncanny precision guiding their strikes, they dispatched the hidden creatures with lethal efficiency, transforming chaos into a grim ballet of destruction. The air, thick with the acrid tang of scorched flesh and the metallic bite of alien blood, shimmered under the violet-tinged sky, where clouds swirled like specters in a fevered dream.
Janice's coordinates, delivered in her cold, mechanical cadence, were a beacon in the dark. The team unleashed a barrage of airburst shells at her designated points, the munitions detonating with thunderous roars. Liquid fuel sprayed into the air, coalescing into a mist that draped over the sand like a shroud. A sizzling crackle followed as the fuel ignited, consuming oxygen in ravenous gulps and birthing fireballs that roared across the dunes. The flames, fierce and unrelenting, seared the Starbugs' hides, forcing them from their subterranean lairs. Exposed, the creatures writhed, their segmented bodies glistening as they emitted shrill, discordant screeches, like nails dragged across steel.
Zhou Ying had anticipated the bugs' emergence, positioning elite single soldiers to encircle the kill zone. As the Starbugs leapt from the sand, driven mad by the inferno, the cadets struck with surgical precision. Blades, honed to a molecular edge, flashed in the firelight, cleaving through carapaces and mental cores with ruthless efficiency. The bugs' ichor sprayed in dark arcs, pooling in the sand, and within moments, the immediate threat was extinguished. The surrounding hundred meters lay silent, save for the faint crackle of cooling embers and the distant wail of the wind, a ghostly lament that seemed to mourn the fallen.
Zhou Ying exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Well done, Janice," he said, opening her private comms channel, his voice carrying a rare note of warmth.
"It is my duty," Janice replied, her tone as flat as the cratered plains, devoid of pride or emotion.
Zhou Ying's brow arched, curiosity piqued. "How did you spot them? Those bugs are masters of concealment. Even mental sensitives struggle to track them."
Janice's response was clinical, a report delivered with machine-like precision. "After the first Starbug surfaced, I analyzed its physiology and the surrounding environment. In sandy terrain, their burrows leave subtle traces—micro-disruptions in soil density, thermal anomalies. Human eyes cannot detect them, but my sensors can."
Her explanation was a stark reminder of her transformation. Starbugs, elusive even to mental energy, altered their surroundings in ways imperceptible to most. A veteran might, after days on Dead Omen, learn to spot the telltale signs of a hidden burrow, but Janice's augmented mind bypassed such gradual mastery. One encounter was enough for her to decode the bugs' patterns, her learning algorithms rendering experience obsolete. Zhou Ying nodded, impressed but wary. "Good work. Keep calling targets."
Janice's voice cut through again, unyielding. "A reminder: eight minutes and thirty-seven seconds have elapsed since your distress signal."
Zhou Ying's gaze snapped to the wounded cadet at the formation's center. The boy's protective suit was a sodden ruin, blood-soaked and blackening, his life ebbing with each labored breath. Official estimates pegged rescue at ten minutes, but surely they wouldn't stretch it to the last second? The thought gnawed at Zhou Ying, a cold weight in his chest.
Minutes later, salvation arrived. A gray starship, its hull scarred by sand and fresh claw marks, descended through the violet haze. It hovered above, kicking up whirlwinds of dust, and lowered its ramp. Rescue personnel, clad in reinforced exosuits, spilled out, their movements swift and practiced. They hoisted the cadet onto a stretcher, their medic's scanner humming as it assessed his wounds. Before the hatch sealed, the medic glanced at Zhou Ying, offering a curt nod. "Not fatal. He'll make it."
Zhou Ying watched the ship ascend, its engines a fading roar against the wind's ceaseless howl. He turned to his team, his voice heavy, each word deliberate. "You saw what happened. Dead Omen's environment is unforgiving. Rescue might not come in time. A fatal wound here could be our end."
No one spoke. The joint exercise, though a simulation, carried real peril. The wounded cadet had been lucky—his injuries, though severe, spared vital organs, and the bug's venom was weak. A deeper wound, a more potent toxin, and he would have been lost. Zhou Ying's eyes swept over his team, their faces hidden behind visors but their tension palpable. "We move with utmost caution from now on. Understood?"
The team nodded, their mechs shifting into formation as they resumed their trek, maintaining a steady pace to escape the blood-soaked basin. Zhou Ying fell into step beside Zhou Ao, his voice low, confiding. "These bugs—why evolve such stealth? The military only sweeps this planet during swarm seasons. What are they hiding from?"
Zhou Ao's breath was even, his tone measured. "You're thinking there's something bigger out there."
"Just a hunch," Zhou Ying murmured, his eyes scanning the horizon. The plain stretched endlessly, its surface dusted with a frost-like sheen under the dim starlight. The silence was unnatural, a predator's pause before the strike.
From above, the Federation team appeared as a cluster of black specks, disciplined and cautious, threading through the desolate sands. Their struggle, broadcast live across the starnet, captivated billions. Comments flooded the feeds, a mix of awe and unease:
The atmosphere's heavier this time. So many eliminations already, and the injuries are brutal.
The camera work's lackluster. Jingyi's bug-slaying was epic, but the shot was too far to see! Such a waste.
Anyone else creeped out by Dead Omen? My alien phobia's kicking in. I'd be paralyzed in that place!
You think this is bad? Check the Empire's stream. They just bumped it to adult-only—too much gore from their swarm fight. Scared the kids, apparently.
Curiosity piqued, viewers flocked to the Empire's broadcast, expecting a bloodbath. Instead, they found Bai Sha's team at rest, their mechs arrayed in a makeshift camp. A grotesque haul of Starbug remains, strung like macabre garlands, lay piled before them. The materials, too plentiful to carry, prompted a sorting session. Bai Sha, flanked by mech technicians, sifted through the spoils with a discerning eye, while Xino and other bug-savvy cadets assessed their value.
Bai Sha tossed aside lesser specimens—chitin fragments, low-grade neural cords—her movements brisk but tinged with regret. The discarded pile grew into a small hill, a monument to their excess. New viewers, expecting carnage, were stunned. "This is it?" one typed, incredulous.
"Done," Bai Sha announced, clapping her hands with a grin. She eyed the abandoned materials, her tone wistful. "Can't we call a ship to haul this? Even scraps add up."
Xino's refusal was swift, a triple rebuke. "No. No. Absolutely not. We don't summon aid for this."
Ying Chen, gazing at the pile, mirrored Bai Sha's melancholy. Cen Yuehuai, sensing his fixation, grabbed his arm and steered him away. "Let's move on. There's more bugs to hunt."
Bai Sha's laughter rang through the comms, bright and unyielding. On Dead Omen, she thrived, a predator in her element, her dual role as warrior and technician making her a force of nature. The starnet adored her, her every move dissected and celebrated. "She's a war maniac," one viewer typed, half in jest, "but damn, she's good."
Xino, scanning the horizon, mused aloud. "We haven't seen many big ones yet. Dead Omen's got 3S-grade Creeping Roses—cave-dwellers. Might be worth a look."
Bai Sha's eyes lit up. "Creeping Roses? Their mucus, skin, nerves—all rare materials. Light, too. Perfect."
The team agreed, setting course for a nearby ridge dotted with caves. The starnet buzzed with amusement:
Grinding bugs like it's a treasure hunt. Poor Creeping Rose, you're toast.
For Bai Sha's smile, I'd sacrifice a Rose myself. Amen.
Federation's in survival mode; Empire's on a looting spree. Wild contrast.
As the team neared the caves, an oppressive aura settled over them. The air grew heavy, laced with a faint, sickly sweetness. Xino's voice dropped, urgent. "Creeping Roses emit a hallucinogenic gas. It clouds the mind, lures prey into a frenzy. Once close, the Rose implants neural tendrils, turning victims into puppets. They hunt for it, or become food if supplies run low."
He paused, his tone grim. "Roses are cunning. They reward successful puppets, promote them to leaders. In lean times, they ration resources, sustaining the strongest. It's all instinct—no thought, just survival."
Cen Yuehuai's voice faltered. "If this is a Rose's lair, there'll be more bugs—puppets, maybe worse."
Her words hung heavy as the cave mouth loomed, its jagged edges like the maw of a slumbering beast. Then, a flicker—countless blood-red eyes glinting from the rock walls, unblinking and malevolent. Cen Yuehuai's pulse quickened. "Speak of the devil," she muttered, nocking a flaming arrow and loosing it into the darkness.
The arrow struck, erupting in a blaze that illuminated the cave. Perched on the walls were bat-like Starbugs, their heads encased in black bone, mouths gaping with needle-like teeth. The explosion roused them, their wings beating as they swarmed out, a chittering tide of malice. Cen Yuehuai's shot had felled two; the rest veered, wary of the flames.
"Fire's our best bet," she called. "Herd them together."
Yu Yan nodded. "Group them up, then burn them."
All eyes turned to Xino, who balked. "What? You want my spirit form to bait them? No way. These aren't like the others—if they drain my lion's blood, I'm done."
"I'll do it," Bai Sha began, but Jiya cut her off, her voice calm but firm. "I'll handle it. My spirit form's built for combat."
She glanced at Bai Sha, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "Your Blackbird would scare the Rose itself into hiding, Your Highness."
Bai Sha blinked, caught off guard. "Is it that intimidating?"
The team's laughter, brief but warm, cut through the tension. Jiya's spirit form—a sleek, silver wolf—materialized, its eyes glinting with predatory intent. She stepped forward, ready to draw the swarm, as the cave's red eyes multiplied, their glow a promise of the horrors within.