The air within the Empire team's makeshift refuge crackled with tension, the storm's roar a relentless dirge outside their sheltered slope. The garbled distress signal, now clarified, hung over them like a specter, its words a chilling omen: a Red-Feather Sparrow Queen, fully hatched, was tearing through Dead Omen's northern reaches, its path converging with their own. Bai Sha's voice cut through the stunned silence, sharp with disbelief. "Why are the Red-Feather Sparrows incubating a Queen as well? Can a single planet host two Queens simultaneously?"
Cen Yuehuai's brow furrowed, her tone laced with suspicion. "Could this be a hoax?" But she quickly dismissed the thought—Federation students wouldn't jest about such a calamity. Her gaze shifted to Xino. "Didn't the military sweep Dead Omen before we arrived?"
Xino drew a steadying breath, his expression grim. "Let's report this to the organizers first."
Before they could act, their mech screens flared with crimson alerts, a synchronized warning that pulsed like a heartbeat. The organizers' message was curt: the joint exercise was suspended, and the Empire team was to remain in place until reinforcements arrived. Moments later, a second transmission followed from the Empire's fleet, accompanied by a real-time map of Dead Omen's storm points. The map promised a route northwest to escape the tempest's grip, with the fleet maintaining constant contact. Once they reached calmer terrain, they would board a starship—a clear directive to withdraw entirely from the fray.
Simultaneously, the interstellar network buzzed with disruption. The live feeds for both teams' audiences teetered on the brink of collapse. The Empire's stream clung to a shaky satellite overview, while the Federation's had dissolved into an ominous gray void. Though some viewers lingered in the chat rooms, others, restless and anxious, flooded forums with speculation.
"Choosing Dead Omen was a colossal mistake," one user posted. "Civilians might not know its reputation, but to soldiers, it's a cursed rock. It's no place for a horde of cadets to cut their teeth."
"Agreed," another replied. "The first two rounds were competitive, even entertaining. But this? It's a nightmare. We're not watching a contest anymore—it's a survival documentary. Winners live, losers die."
"It's just bad luck," a third chimed in. "The draw picked Dead Omen, and they hit its storm season. Those purple radiation clouds and sandstorms make filming impossible."
"Let's call it a night and wait for results," another suggested. "I'm betting 500 credits on the Empire."
Beyond Dead Omen's atmosphere, the public remained ignorant of the planet's true peril. For Bai Sha and her team, however, the situation demanded a choice, one fraught with consequence. Jiya, her golden eyes glinting with wary resolve, spoke from her cockpit. "Have the fleet and organizers coordinated? If we board the starship and leave Dead Omen's surface, the rules count that as a voluntary withdrawal."
Bai Sha's frown deepened. "I've queried the fleet. No response yet."
Whispers rippled through the team, a mix of frustration and uncertainty. "Does the Risk Management Code for joint exercises cover this?" one student asked.
"It's got pages of rules," another grumbled, "but who reads that?"
"If we withdraw, we're handing victory to the Federation."
"They're facing a Queen head-on. Who knows how many they'll lose?"
Bai Sha's voice, weary but firm, silenced the chatter. "All three grades and main team members are here. Let's vote: stay and await the organizers' orders, or board the starship now."
The gathered students exchanged glances, the weight of the decision stifling. No one spoke. Xino raised his arm first. "I vote to rendezvous with the fleet."
In such moments, the first to choose retreat risked seeming cowardly, but Xino's action carried no shame. His frontline experience with his family's forces had exposed him to dangers far graver than this. His choice was pragmatic, rooted in reason. He pinged Jiya privately, sensing her reluctance. "On the front, we'd never yield. But this is an exercise, and we've got freshmen in tow. They're not ready for this level of threat. Holding out this long is already commendable."
Jiya paused, then raised her hand, her silence a grudging assent. Most of the team followed, including Cen Yuehuai and Yu Yan, who prioritized survival over pride. A loss to the Federation was a bitter pill, but not fatal.
"Then it's settled," Bai Sha said, her tone decisive. "Reform ranks and move northwest." She added, almost as an afterthought, "We might not be counted as withdrawn. Half the organizers are ours, after all."
The team, rested from their brief respite, reformed with steady precision, stepping back into the storm's embrace. The northwest was a rough estimate, its specifics left to their judgment. Bai Sha conferred with teammates versed in astro-meteorology, charting a course to their target at a measured pace.
After several kilometers, the wind's howl softened, the barrage of sand and stone lessening. Bai Sha glanced upward, where the sky's roiling purple light bathed her mech in an eerie glow—a sign the storm was waning, shifting elsewhere. The fleet awaited nearby, their presence a beacon in the chaos. The obscuring dust parted, revealing the jagged outlines of gray-black ridges and the barren, desolate ground—and something far worse.
"Bloody hell," a student blurted, voicing the collective shock.
Before them lay a graveyard of Starbug carcasses, their bones strewn across the earth like a macabre tapestry. Some were mere meters long, others stretched over ten, their skeletal frames stripped of flesh, save for thin, sinewy tendrils clinging to the bone. Cen Yuehuai nudged a nearby husk with her mech's foot, noting its freshness, though its eyes were gone, leaving hollow sockets.
"Red-Feather Sparrows were here," Xino said, his voice taut. "They're high-tier like the Creeping Roses, but worse. They move in flocks, and they fly—faster than most bugs. Humans can't keep up." He scanned the sky, wary. "To hit a swarm this dense, we'd need the fleet's firepower."
His words were cut short by twin booms echoing from beyond the ridge, followed by a blinding white surge that crested and fell like a tidal wave. Starship laser cannons. "No need to signal our position now," Xino remarked dryly. The fleet was already engaged.
The team crested the hill at a sprint, their view confirming the chaos: three starships hovered, their sleek hulls glinting as a cloud of Red-Feather Sparrows swarmed them. The bugs' shrill cries pierced the air as they dove, only to be scorched by the ships' energy shields. Flames consumed the attackers, their charred forms plummeting to the ground. Yet the swarm's frenzy persisted, undeterred by losses. The fleet deployed laser nets, ensnaring clusters of Sparrows before obliterating them with cannon fire.
The ships needed to descend to evacuate the students, but opening their hatches risked invasion by the relentless bugs. Clearing the swarm was paramount. The starships, manned by seasoned crews, maneuvered with deliberate calm, thinning the flock with surgical precision. Suddenly, the Sparrows' attention shifted, their beady eyes locking onto the ground team. With a cacophony of beating wings, they abandoned the ships, diving toward Bai Sha's squad.
Weapons drawn, the students braced for combat, but Bai Sha's breath hitched, a surge of mental energy erupting from her. A shimmering barrier, fluid yet unyielding, enveloped the team, its force rippling outward. "Go!" she commanded. "Board the ship!"
Xino turned, protest on his lips, but the mental wave struck him like a tidal surge, propelling him forward. The vortex of energy guided the team unerringly toward the descending starship, leaving no room for defiance. Cen Yuehuai spun, her voice rising. "Your Highness!" Before she could argue, a piercing cry split the air. A silver-blue Xuan Bird, its feathers ablaze with radiant flame, soared skyward, its beauty both ethereal and menacing. The sight dazzled Cen Yuehuai, silencing her as she joined the rush to the ship.
The team boarded in waves, the Sparrows' discordant wails echoing behind them. Glancing back, they witnessed the Xuan Bird's onslaught—a whirlwind of fire and fury, tearing through the swarm with merciless precision. Not a feather was singed; the Sparrows, by contrast, fell in droves, their bodies shredded. It was a slaughter, a spectacle of overwhelming dominance.
Minutes later, Bai Sha recalled her spirit, her mech sprinting to join the final boarding wave. She leapt from her cockpit, landing with a thud as the fleet captain approached, his expression a mix of relief and deference. The starship began its ascent, the ground shrinking below.
"Your Highness," the captain said, "all Empire students have been evacuated from the surface."
"Good," Bai Sha replied, her voice flat, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration. "Summon every official responsible for Dead Omen's reconnaissance and risk assessment."
"His Majesty has already ordered their review," the captain said, his tone apologetic.
"As for the organizers, no decision yet. By rights, Dead Omen's conditions trigger the Risk Avoidance Clause. They should nullify this round's results. There's precedent—"
Bai Sha cut him off, her voice sharp. "I'm not asking about withdrawal. What's the Federation team's status?"
The captain hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Not optimistic."