Druhalith (The Season of Resilience) Day 277

41 days since my arrival

A notification flickered into my awareness, marking the passage of another day. I shifted my focus to my scouts, viewing the enemies' movement. The enemy's retreat persisted, and no further attempts were made to secure any positions.

With nothing pressing to occupy me on the surface, I turned my focus inward, narrowing the vast scope of my mind. The weight of controlling countless drones, and managing their movements and tasks, left me stretched too thin to truly wield psionics.

The burrowers, my most autonomous drones, were tasked with expanding the deeper tunnels. I gave them broad instructions and released much of my direct control over their movements.

I could feel their dull, methodical work at the edge of my consciousness, distant and muted. For the first time, I let go of micromanaging them, hoping this would free enough of my focus to experiment with the powers I had glimpsed in the captive’s memories.

I began with Paralysis, the simplest of the Initiate’s abilities. It seemed like the most achievable, foundation upon which to build. Selecting prisoner number one, I reached out with my intent clear. To grasp and freeze his mind, rendering him inert, was a simple enough concept in theory. But as soon as I tried to touch his consciousness, the difficulty became clear.

His resistance, though effectively non-existent, posed a different kind of challenge. His mind had fractured at the barest hint of my intent.

It was slippery and erratic, like trying to hold on to mercury. Even with no will to fight back, his scattered mental state made it difficult to find a stable foothold.

The process was clumsy. My vast psionic energy, which I had used to dominate and manipulate before, now felt unwieldy for this finer work. Trying to hold his mind was like catching mist with a clenched fist

Every time I tried to tighten my hold, the flow of my power surged unpredictably, threatening to overwhelm and crush the fragile web of his consciousness.

I paused for a moment, recalibrating my approach. The neural link fed me information about the prisoner’s condition, elevated stress levels, erratic brain activity, and faint traces of etheric instability. If I pushed too hard, his mind would shatter completely, leaving nothing useful for further experimentation.

Taking a slower, more deliberate approach, I began to weave my psionic energy with greater care, threading it gently through the fractured pathways of his mind. It was like navigating a maze with unstable walls, each wrong move threatening to collapse the structure entirely.

Finally, I found a point of connection—a core fragment of his consciousness still intact. I focused on it, funnelling my power into this single point. The prisoner’s body jerked slightly within the pod, his eyes flickering open for a brief moment before glazing over.

His breathing slowed, and his muscles tensed as my influence began to take hold.

Finally, I found the connection. His body stiffened, frozen in place as if locked in time. The control lasted for only a fleeting moment before his muscles convulsed violently. The pod’s systems struggled to stabilize him, but the damage was done. His internal systems collapsed under the strain, leaving nothing but lifeless organic matter.

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Another failure, the fatigue creeping into my mind like a slow tide faded within moments. Yet, even in failure, I had learned something my approach needed refinement.

I moved to the next prisoner, attempting Psi Tracing. Memories from the captive hinted at how etheric signatures could be tracked, like footprints on a soft surface. I reached out with my consciousness, seeking the faint residue of psionic activity.

The result was frustratingly vague. I sensed traces, wisps of etheric energy left by the other prisoners, but the precision eluded me. It was like trying to read the wind in a storm, it was chaotic and unsteady.

As I struggled, a faint tremor rippled through the tunnels. At first, I dismissed it as the burrowers digging deeper, their movements causing minor shifts in the structure. But the tremors grew stronger, the vibrations more erratic.

I redirected a portion of my attention to the surface scouts, their eyes capturing bursts of light slicing across the darkness above. Flashes of light illuminated the void as objects hurtled down, slamming into the ground with devastating force.

The surface quaked under the relentless bombardment, and each impact left craters and scars, erasing any traces of stability in the terrain.

Shapes loomed in the distance, hazy silhouettes against the backdrop of flashing light in the void. Their forms were unmistakable, even through the distorted expanding mass of dust dirt and minerals floating away. The enemy had returned, launching a renewed offensive with calculated precision.

I had underestimated their persistence. The brief respite I had gained was nothing more than a prelude to this storm. Their assault was deliberate, targeting the upper layers of my network with merciless efficiency.

Realizing the danger, I issued a general retreat command to all drones operating in the upper tunnels. The upper levels were no longer tenable, the enemy's bombardment had made them a deathtrap. My priority now was to consolidate my forces deeper underground, away from the reach of their devastating strikes.

The burrowers redoubled their efforts, their claws, and mandibles tearing through the rock with relentless efficiency to widen passageways I ordered every drone to join the burrowers and start digging.

The ground shook violently, more forcefully than before. A deafening crack resonated through the tunnels, the unmistakable signal of another collapse. Dust and debris filled the air as several upper levels gave way, sending cascades of rock and rubble crashing down.

I diverted my focus to assess the damage, viewing the chaos through the optics of my retreating drones. The collapse had claimed many of them, some crushed beneath tons of stone, their forms flattened and lifeless. Others were buried alive, immobilized and rendered useless.

As the dust settled, I analysed the collapse’s effect on the structural integrity of the remaining tunnels. If this continued I would have to retreat into the deeper levels into a more confined space, forcing me to reallocate resources and adjust strategies.

The bombardment persisted for hours, a relentless assault with an ever-expanding mass of debris floating away from sanctuary. With the upper levels compromised, and the surface rendered utterly inhospitable, I had no choice but to abandon them entirely, retreating deeper into the labyrinth below.

Combat drones carried the captives' pods and salvaged pieces of weapons and armour as we fled. The workshop was no longer safe. I joined the swarm, assisting in the expansion of the lower levels, our claws carving through the rock to create a deeper refuge.

As the digging continued, I shifted part of my attention to the surface. Through the eyes of my scouts, I saw a new force approaching Sanctuary. Their vehicles were larger and offered no protection. Their troops were bulkier and encased in thick exoskeletal armour. With my knowledge, I recognized their contingent as an elite strike force equipped with power armour, built for direct combat in confined spaces.

With options dwindling, I issued a command for all drones to dig deeper, widening and reinforcing the lower levels. Then, for the first time, I withdrew control over the swarm. It was a strange sensation, my mind no longer directing their every action, my consciousness unmoored from the constant flow of orders.

I connected to the nearest surface scouts, their eyes providing a clear view of the advancing enemy. As I studied their movements, I felt a familiar yet alien sensation prickling at the edge of my awareness.

I extended my mind toward theirs, projecting my intent searching for a foothold within their mental framework.

There was something strong among them, something connected to all their minds. A telepathic link. I felt it the moment our minds collided a presence vast and disciplined, sensing me as keenly as I sensed it.