Enormous hexagonal bay doors dotted the interior of the planet's shell. Each door was the size of a small continent. Their imposing frames gleamed faintly, fortified as if they could shrug off nuclear warheads. At the core of the void floated a glowing planetoid, suspended like a celestial ornament. Its connection to the shell was an intricate web of beams and cables, thin as threads in the vastness of the scene.

  Auron’s eyes locked on to the planetoid’s centerpiece: an ancient pyramid resting amid four monumental pillars. The columns projected a menacing forcefield, encasing the prehistoric structure. Pulsing runes covered the rest of the planetoid’s surface, bathing the territory in an eerie blue light. The eldritch glow clung to everything, making Auron feel like it were actually tangible. It was as if the entire facility were filled with a subtle vibration that Auron could feel right down to the railing clenched beneath his fingers.

  At the tip of the pyramid, Auron could see a contrasting orange light. It was unmistakably the artifact that S.A.M. mentioned before.

  All of this to protect a single artifact? Just how powerful was this thing? For a fleeting second, Auron imagined snatching it for himself, but the thought was laughable. He wasn’t some raid boss-slaying legend; he was a noob blindly running around. He glanced down at the Watcher’s Cover. Literally.

  "That's... the containment unit?" Auron muttered, more to himself than S.A.M. The sheer scale of the scene made his head spin. He felt like an ant in a machine so vast it wouldn't notice if it crushed him.

  "Yes," S.A.M. said, his tone clipped, betraying none of the awe that had Auron ready to sit down. "The artifact resides atop the pyramid. The energy fields generated by the pillars maintain its stasis. For now."

  Auron exhaled, his grip still tight on the railing. "For now? Love the optimism, bud."

  S.A.M. ignored the remark, his gaze sweeping the space with a clinical detachment. "The maintenance drones ensure operational integrity. This facility is designed to withstand most threats," S.A.M. continued in a tone so detached he might as well have been reading from a manual, "the general architectural goal being to convey the message: Frolic Wantonly, Discover Consequences."

  “Message received,” Auron said in dismay.

  Below, swarms of drones flitted about, maintaining the structure's stability. They moved with precision, but Auron couldn't shake the sense that even they were on edge; their patterns were jittery, to say the least. As if to confirm his suspicion, the facility shuddered under another tremor, shaking the railing under his hands. An alarm blared in his suit, practically ricocheting off his helmet.

  "Don't worry," S.A.M. said casually. "No one has ever successfully breached the facility."

  Before Auron could muster a response, a massive tremor rocked the shell. He whipped his head up just in time to see one of the colossal hexagonal bay doors blasted apart. A fireball of debris erupted inward, casting sharp shadows across the hollow.

  Auron's mouth fell open. "Uh... Hate to break it to you, S.A.M., but I think someone just RSVP'd."

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  S.A.M. blinked at the massive hole in the planetary shell, his head tilting slightly. Then, with the casual finality of someone commenting on spilled coffee, he smacked his lips and muttered, "Huh… Bummer." Without missing a beat, he dashed off toward the control station, leaving Auron alone on the balcony.

  “Wha-wh.. What? That's it?" Auron called after him, but S.A.M. was already gone, his brisk strides as unbothered as his tone.

  Turning back to the breach, Auron's retort died in his throat. Through the yawning fissure, a fleet of massive starships sailed into the void. Their immense hulls gleamed coldly in the artifact's eerie glow, like predators slipping through an open cage. Swarms of smaller fighters zipped around them, darting and diving with sharp, predatory precision.

  Auron's stomach twisted as his eyes locked onto the real showstoppers: the creatures. These weren't ships or drones. They were alive. Gigantic, mythic hybrids of eagle and serpent, their sleek, rippling forms seemed to radiate power. Their eyes glowed like miniature suns, fixing on the facility with a predatory intensity that sent a chill down Auron's spine.

  "Yeah, that's… that's not in the brochure," he muttered, his voice thin against the rising battle.

  "Are those…" Auron's words trailed off as one of the creatures dove, its vast wings blotting out the artifact's light. He couldn't help but notice the battlements embedded in its thick armor. Soldiers and mages—actual freaking people—manned those battlements, their forms barely visible amid the chaos. Flashes of magic and weaponry lit up the creature's surface as they fired relentlessly at the facility below.

  "Holy… It's a freaking mobile murder hotel," Auron whispered. His legs couldn't decide if he should run or sit down and cry.

  The facility's defenses answered in kind. Planetary cannons the size of skyscrapers emerged from hidden compartments across the shell. Their colossal barrels swiveled toward the invaders, drawing in untold destructive energy before firing devastating volleys of light. The hollow space lit up with bursts of brilliance, each shot ripping through the enemy's ranks.

  Thousands of drones peeled away from the shell's walls, swarming like angry hornets. Sleek and sharp, they tore into the attackers with precision, some slicing through ships with razor-like talons, others weaving intricate nets of light that ensnared their prey. One unfortunate starship, hopelessly entangled, was obliterated by a single blast from a mechanical horror that looked like a cross between a dragonfly and a manta ray. Its translucent wings pulsed as it glided through the wreckage of its prey like a graceful reaper in the storm.

  Auron braced himself against the railing, trying to make sense of the silent, surreal destruction. Then, without warning, his suit buzzed, a message flashing across his visor:

  "Engaging Sonic Simulation Mode."

  Auron barely had time to process the words before the silence shattered. The mute vacuum was replaced by a storm of artificial noise. Cannons roared. Drones screeched. The serpent-eagle creatures let out bone-shaking cries that made his bladder vibrate. The suit was feeding his brain what it thought the chaos should sound like, and it wasn't pulling any punches.

  "Oh great, now I can hear myself dying," he muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the symphony of destruction. The added noise didn't make the situation any less terrifying. If anything, it cranked the nightmare dial straight to eleven and broke off the knob.

  "Yup. Nope. Nope, nope, nope." Auron backed away from the railing, his hands instinctively searching for anything to hold on to. The ground trembled beneath his feet, each explosion sending shockwaves through the facility.

  As the battle raged on, his mind scrambled for answers. There was no way to fight this. No clever move or big heroic play. This wasn't some game where you could hit reset.

  His breath hitched, and a single, terrible thought settled in his chest.

  I have to survive this?

  "Okay. Run now, existential crisis later," Auron muttered, spinning on his heel. His legs finally got the memo, and he broke into a sprint, letting the chaos serve as a deafening backdrop. His mission finally made sense.

  He had to flee.