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The darkness in the tunnel was beginning to feel less like a threat and more like a memory. Gotrah's corpse sizzled in the background, its twisted shell slumped beside the remnants of a ritual too old to name.
Their Ghosts hovered closer now, no longer dimming their lights in fear. The battle was over. For now.
"Viper was watching," Waffles said, stepping over a scorched Hive glyph. Her voice echoed slightly off the stone.
Undecided glanced toward the shadowed corridor where the figure had emerged—just briefly—before vanishing again into darkness. "He helped too. That sword of his—whatever he did to Gotrah at the end—he took something."
"The Wizard's essence," BearSpray muttered. "Like he drained it."
"More like absorbed it," Gandalf said. "You saw that blade. Maybe its something special!"
The team was quiet for a moment. Then Waffles added, "He said we could find him. On the Reef."
They all turned slightly, as if expecting the shadows to speak again. Nothing but silence greeted them.
"Think so, but I am a bit confused." asked TheOneWhoKnocks. "Just... who the hell is he? Didn't he basically just say the City's not always right? I thought Guardians were all from the City?"
Undecided tilted his helmet. "I guess its deeper then we thought. Not just black and white, but something..gray? This writing depth is quite impressive."
"Interesting indeed" BearSpray muttered. "Said following the City blindly was foolish."
"But he didn't say we should abandon it either," Waffles pointed out. "He's walking a line. One foot in, one out."
TheOneWhoKnocks paced near the edge of the tunnel. "That guy—Viper—handed out some interesting weapons last time too. We helped him in the event, and now finally he helped us to get the Hive.'"
"The weapons were better than anything in the armory," IEatPaint said, folding his arms.
"So what does that mean?" BearSpray asked.
"It means, that Viper is not just some side character. If anything, he's connected to the main storyline. He has to be." Waffles chirped.
She checked the Director. The Tangled Shore blinked faintly on the map—off the official grid at the edges of the system. the waypoint was there, flashing steady. Like an invitation.
"I mean," Undecided chuckled, "how often does someone invite you to a place you've never seen?"
TheOneWhoKnocks nodded. "He said to come if we were ready for the next step. And that the Light was anchored by its shadows."
The words lingered in the air. Who was the shadow? What did it want? Most importantly, what was the next step?
"I'm in," Gandalf said. "Could be nothing. Could be something. Either way, I want to see where it goes."
BearSpray stepped forward. "As long as I also get one of those weapons, I'm in."
"The next step" Waffles said quietly.
Undecided grinned beneath his helmet. "Well then, let's see what's on the other side."
The Director synced up, and the fireteam collectively locked in the coordinates. They watched the Tangled Shore form around them in the map projection: fragmented asteroids, rusted wreckage, and the glow of outlaw hideouts.
The Cosmodrome faded from view behind them, replaced by anticipation—and the slight buzz of something else. Not fear. Not quite hope.
Curiosity.
Their jumpships launched from orbit not long after, slipping quietly into trans-light travel.
They didn't know who Viper truly was. They didn't know what waited in the Reef.
But they knew that whatever it was, was worth the trip. And part of them also wished that it was truth that waited on the edge of the system. The truth they wished to uncover.
-
[Spider's Hideout]
The Tangled Shore never truly slept.
Even in its quieter hours, there was always something humming—vents coughing smoke into the vacuum, Skiff engines growling like predators in the dark.
Now, Spider's bustled with activity, the hideout nestled deep in the creaking bones of a broken cruiser was layered with reinforced metal, ether pipes. Essentially old Awoken tech stitched together with Fallen ingenuity.
Inside, the air was thick with wealth. Not clean air, not fresh—but rich. Rich with musk, gun-oil, and the low electric hum of data being processed, deals being made.
Spider sat at his central console, surrounded by lounging bodyguards, surrounded by consoles each one dimly pulsing like a heart in sleep. His fingers drummed on the table, thick digits caked with rings and adorned with the etched marks of his House.
A transmission buzzed in from Earth. He leaned forward.
"From the Devils," his comms officer rasped, clicking jaws "Encrypted."
Spider blinked his many eyes, then waved the projection on. The hologram flickered, revealing a battered transmission—a Fallen captain speaking in broken Eliksni with embedded machine dialect.
As the Captain's voice echoed, an uncharacteristic smirk crept up on spider, his eyes narrowed in satisfaction. A certain beat returned to his voice as he chuckled.
The message was clear: the House of Devils wanted arms. Heavy ones.
But Spider was more than capable of reading through the filler. Whatever had happened, it seemed that the House of Devils was planning to start another campaign on earth.
Why else would they need such weaponry? The number of skiffs alone was astounding.
Spider drummed his fingers along the consoles and summoned his lieutenants, asking to fetch the recent status of the House of Devils.
Earth might be far, but that didn't mean that the Reef was uninformed. If anything, the Fallen syndicates thrived on information and insider trading. Finding out the recent events surrounding a Fallen House wasn't particularly difficult.
Moments later, a Fallen vandal rushed back with news on a data pad.
"As expected", Spider grumbled, scrolling through the brief he had received.
They had suffered a humbling in the Cosmodrome, in the Rocketyard. Guardians had responded faster than expected.
The Devils' push had collapsed. They were now requesting a trade—plasma drills, shock mines, chain rifles.
The air shifted as one of his lieutenants stepped closer. "They're preparing another assault. This time, with better gear."
Spider didn't respond at first. He merely watched the message loop again—listening, analyzing.
"No..." he said at last, stroking his chin. "This is still not the full story. No one goes begging this quickly. Not the Devils."
He tapped his console. "Pull the whispers. I want everything from the shorelines to the Nesting Quarters. Skiffs. Cargo manifests. Transponder logs. If they're preparing something, I want to know where it's landing."
Minutes passed. Then, the report came.
"The Devils are mobilizing," said another voice. "The Devil's lair seems to be bustling with activity. Looks like... a new leader."
Spider's jaw twitched.
"New Archon, is it?"
He leaned back into his chair with a thoughtful grunt.
"They'll pay well," the lieutenant chimed in.
"They will," Spider said slowly. "And they'll pay more if they're desperate enough. Which means... I name my price."
He grinned, "We'll supply to the Devils. But bleed them for every dram of ether. Every scrap."
He didn't look up when the door hissed open.
A familiar presence stepped through—quiet, controlled, without a sound of footsteps.
Viper.
The Spider chuckled, low and grating. "You came, I wasn't expecting a response."
"You did call," Viper said, voice like a whisper in a storm.
He stepped through the haze, armor black, face hidden behind his visor. No one beside him, but it was always understood he was not alone.
"Well, I've got transmissions concerning your workshop. Devils reached out," Spider said. "Want weapons. Gear. Tech."
Viper said nothing.
"I figured your little operation could use the capital."
But Viper didn't react.
"You're not thrilled?" Spider observed, raising a brow.
"No," Viper said at last. "I'm not."
Spider's laugh was like gravel in a wineglass. "You're human. I forget sometimes. Too many attachments."
Viper replied with his silent gaze.
Spider raised a brow. "You know how this works. The Reef has one law. No need to get sentimental."
"Power," Viper said.
Spider nodded. "And power doesn't care about sides."
"It does," Viper said, stepping forward, "when one side burns brighter."
He leaned in close, just enough that Spider's guards stirred.
"The City will win this."
Spider squinted. "You're that confident?"
Viper looked toward the far wall, where a holographic map flickered with positions. "I know something you don't."
Spider grumbled in amusement. "Tell me."
"Not yet," Viper said. "But trust me—when the Devils lose, there'll be plenty left to claim."
There was a pause. Then Spider leaned back. "So. You want me to sell to them... and sabotage the deal?"
"Delay the shipments," Viper corrected. "Stall their progress. Let their failure ripen. Surely, you've got enough experience as a trader."
Spider chuckled, "My practices are perfectly honest. I suppose one can't help a bit of delay in inter-planetary shipments."
"But what after they fall?" Spider drummed his fingers again, "What do you expect to do?"
Viper's visor glinted under the light. "You move in. Take what's left. You'll have your ether. And more."
Spider considered the offer in silence. His claws flexed once.
"If this fails, they won't think twice, it'll be my neck," he muttered.
"That won't happen, I assure you. Once the city deals with the Devils, they'll be hard pressed to hold down Devil's lair than even think about putting their eyes on the Shore." Viper said quietly, already turning away. "Besides, don't act like its the first time you've done these greasy deals."
Spider opened his mouth—but Viper was gone.
No sound. No flash. Just a ripple of shadow and cold.
Spider stared at the space where he'd stood.
A long, slow breath escaped his lungs.
"Eerie as always. " he muttered.
Then his grin returned. How could it not? Business... was booming.
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