The interior of the dropship felt like a metal tomb—cold, sterile, yet somehow pulsing with a faint undercurrent of life. The hum of overhead lights flickered intermittently, casting long shadows that stretched like dark fingers across the walls. Each flicker was an almost imperceptible sigh through the walls, as if the ship itself were breathing, waiting. The scent of sterilized equipment hung heavy in the air, mixing with the faint metallic tang of iron, a subtle reminder of the ship’s unyielding, machine-like heartbeat. Below them, the deep thrum of the engines reverberated through the floors, rippling underfoot like the steady pulse of something vast, a force of nature contained in metal. Anticipation hung thick in the air, palpable, almost magnetic. The turbines whispered softly: *Ready.*
The team had already taken their positions in the seats, faces dimly illuminated by the cold, artificial light of their electronic devices. There was an unspoken understanding between them—the silence wasn’t merely the absence of sound. It was a kind of suspended stillness, where each mind worked in sync, absorbed in the mission at hand. No chatter, no idle words—just a quiet, concentrated energy. The air was dense with focus, thick enough to cut through.
At the front of the ship, Elijah stood as a solid figure in the shadows, his tall frame a stark silhouette against the sparse, flickering light. His eyes, dark and intense, swept over the room, pausing briefly on Luna. Their gazes met, unspoken words passing between them. For a split second, his sharp, angular features softened beneath the rhythmic glow of the console’s light, but the weight of experience lingered, etched into the creases on his face, a history that shaped his every movement. The hum of the ship seemed to echo around him, reinforcing the weight of what lay ahead.
“Alright, gather around,” Elijah’s voice broke the silence, calm yet sharp, a low resonance that commanded attention. His tone held an undertone of gravity, not that of an order but of a measured expectation. “Luna, care to brief us on the operation?” His gaze lingered on her, poised and expectant, as if he already knew the plan, but still respected her expertise.
Luna, ever the picture of quiet command, rose from her seat with practiced ease, the movements fluid but purposeful. Her boots clattered against the metallic floor in the otherwise still interior, each step more defined in the thick silence than it should have been. Her fingers wrapped around the tablet in her hands, the glow from its screen casting a soft light on her sharply defined features. With a flick of her wrist, she activated a holographic display in the center of the room.
A map of the abandoned city flickered into being, casting an eerie, ghostly light that danced on the cold metal walls. Ruins of collapsed buildings, roads that led nowhere, and shattered remnants of a forgotten world were marked in jagged, irregular lines. The Monolith stood as a looming, silent guardian at the center. Across the map, red blips pulsed menacingly—rift monsters, scattered like fireflies but each one representing a threat, their presence growing like an ominous storm.
The temperature in the dropship seemed to shift as the image settled. A sharp, uncomfortable drop in the air’s density, an unspoken tension, began to coil itself around the group. The creatures may not have been here, but their presence still weighed heavily in the space.
Luna's voice cut through the growing unease. “Listen up.” The edge of her tone was unwavering, a command in itself. “Today's objective: neutralize the rift creatures, ‘hollows,’ outside the Monolith in the ruins. They’re gathering, and Intel suggests they’re massing in large numbers.” Her sharp eyes locked onto each member of the team, offering a momentary connection before her gaze turned back to the map. Her fingers slid across the tablet, shifting the display to reveal the first creature.
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“The Pyroclast. Behemoth Class.”
With a pulse of light, the creature took form. A massive, four-legged monstrosity that shimmered with heat, even in the projection. Its limbs seemed too short to support its bulk, but its wide, muscular arms crackled with a dangerous energy, ending in jagged stone-like skin that gleamed with the intensity of molten rock. The massive mouth, an abyss, opened, releasing waves of scalding air that made the hologram ripple. The room seemed to grow warmer with its presence, as though the air had thickened, the temperature rising as its heat sought to consume the space.
Luna continued, voice harder now. “This one can bring down a building with just its heat. Those bursts of fiery air will blind you in an instant, disorient you. Get too close, and it’ll burn you alive before you even know what hit you.”
Another swift gesture, and the next creature flared to life in front of them.
“The Mauler. Feral Class.”
The creature was a terrifying blur of muscle and fur, a beast designed for aggression. Its massive, clawed limbs were made for speed, capable of tearing through metal as if it were paper. Its fur appeared matted, thick with sweat, and its eyes gleamed with a predator’s calculating hunger. Its mouth curled into a snarl, fangs glistening in the cold light.
“Fast, violent, and vicious. Don’t give it the chance to close the gap—if it gets in range, you’ll be torn apart before you can react. Stay sharp.”
Luna’s final tap on the tablet conjured the last monster. A deep silence descended as the beast slowly took shape.
“The Brachalisk. Feral Class.”
Its form filled the room. The creature’s leathery wings expanded wide, a vast shadow that seemed to consume the space. Its massive, armored body moved like an ancient predator, covered in thick skin as tough as stone. Its head, sharp like an eagle’s, perched atop a serpentine neck. Its tail whipped lazily through the air, a trail of venom dripping from the tip. The moment its image flickered into existence, the whole room seemed to constrict, the presence of this creature suddenly swallowing every breath.
“Don’t let its size fool you,” Luna cautioned, her voice lowering. “Its wings make it a long-range threat. And that tail? It’ll pierce through armor like it’s nothing. Stay far from it unless you have a damn good reason.”
The image of the creature lingered in the center of the room for a moment, each detail heavy with danger. The weight of the mission was undeniably present, each beast imposing and merciless.
Luna squared her shoulders. “The plan is simple. Split into two teams. Team one: Pyroclast. Team two: Mauler and Brachalisk. Each of you has a designated role, and we stick to it. No heroics, no improvising. We hit hard, we hit fast.”
The air held a deadly calm for a heartbeat, the silence before action amplifying the gravity of the situation. It was then that Lysander rose.
He cut through the tension with his casual, almost lazy demeanor. His blonde hair was streaked with purple, pulled back into a loose, but deliberate bun, strands framing the sharp, confident angles of his face. He wore sleek, rectangular glasses, behind which his purple eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief and something darker, more calculating. A silver ring, shaped like interlocking gears, caught the light on his hand.
“Take them out and head out. Simple, right, Captain?” Lysander’s voice was a teasing lilt, a sharp contrast to the deadly tone in the room. His relaxed posture, his playful smirk, could almost make one forget the dangerous man beneath the persona.
Elijah’s gaze hardened, but his reply was measured, a sharp flick of a mental switch back to the seriousness at hand. “Yeah, that’s the idea. But remember, Lysander—this is a mission. Stick to the plan. You’re with Stacy and me on Pyroclast.” He took a step toward him, eyes steady. “Don’t make me regret this.”
Lysander smirked, the glint of playfulness fading into something far more serious. His eyes flicked over the projections of the monsters, his smirk dropping as the reality settled in, the danger of what they were about to face unmistakable.
“Don’t worry, Captain.” The mischief in his voice had almost entirely vanished, leaving only the sharp focus of a warrior about to step into the fray. "I got your back.”
With that, the team rallied, readying themselves for the storm that awaited them beyond the dropship. And in the cold, humming silence of the ship, they prepared to face the nightmare waiting in the ruins.
[End of Chapter]