The stairwell spat them out into light.
The squad burst through the final archway and into the 6th-floor lobby, boots slamming onto marble tiles half-buried beneath snow. The space was vast, circling the entire crown of the spaceports top. Enormous glass walls curved outward, giving a panoramic view of the city far below.
And what a city it was.
Lili sitting atop Rask's shoulders had a clear view of it, although her breath was fogging her mask. Nonetheless her wide blue eyes swept the horizon: a wasteland, a grave. Skyscrapers stood as blackened icy skeletons, their spines twisted and broken. Streets lay drowned in white, the vehicles scattered like children's toys abandoned in haste, and beyond the tall city walls there was only a seemingly endless flat wasteland. In the sky the storm churned endlessly, clouds boiling with veins of lightning, snow drifting constantly down. And nowhere could she see even a single sign of life. Nothing but the stillness of death.
Her heart ached at the sight of it. This had once been Mikri Poli. Her home, her park, all the people good and the mean were gone, her fountain gone, no strawberry fields anymore, even her mother and father swallowed in the ruin somewhere she didn't know where. The world was truly, and utterly dead.
Then the seen beyond the mostly intact glass changed, there was movement again in the sky.
High above, three shadows circled the dome. At first like before she almost mistook them for birds, but as they drew near, their shapes swelled monstrous. Vast wings of torn leather flapped against the storm, barbed claws glinting in flashes of lightning. Their skulls were swollen things, jaws grinning wide with teeth like broken glass. Their eyes glowed, pale and hungry.
They swept low, banking against the glass. One shrieked—a sound like laughter twisted into a scream—and slammed full-force into the window. The reinforced pane of glass bowed and cracked, a web of fractures racing across its surface. Talons screeched as it began clawing against the glass, its companions circling eagerly in the sky behind.
Lili's stomach lurched at it's actions and unpleasant look. Instinctively she pressed her face against Rask's helmet and whispered, trembling: "I-I don't like this. Can we go faster please?"
No one disagreed, and all picked up their pace.
"Move!" Halvern barked, his voice steady, iron.
They ran, circling the lobby at speed. Their rifles swept ahead, lightstones dancing over ruined benches, half-collapsed kiosks, and frozen corpses slumped in prayer at the walls. Somewhere ahead—Bay 63. Their only chance.
Then from a head to their surprise came the growls of beast's.
Shapes emerged from the shadows ahead—four-legged, fast, low to the ground. Infected hounds large and small, their bodies were pale without any fur just raw skin, eyes streaming, jaws yawning with hunger.
"Contact front!" Venn shouted.
The squad didn't slow. They charged straight into the beasts, rifles barking, beams tearing through bone and muscle. One hound burst apart mid-stride, another collapsed in shrieks as its legs were blown away. But more came—leaping over seats, claws raking at the air. The squad shot them down even as they ran, smoking corpses skidding across the tiles. The smaller ones tried to be clever and move under the seats scattered about, but little did they know seats didn't stop lasbolts.
Lili clung tighter, her eyes wide as Rask thundered forward through the chaos, his rotary cannon spitting bursts that lit the surroundings.
Then from behind they all heard it, howls much louder than ever before coming right behind them, mixed in with sickly wheezing and laughter.
She twisted her head to look and there they were.
From a stairwell poured a tide of the Sad people. Dozens, then hundreds, spilling from the dark like floodwaters—human infected sprinting madly, some on all fours like animals, their smiles stretched wide, their laughter echoing in a mad chorus. Their limbs moved unnaturally fast, hands and feet pounding in grotesque unity. Behind them bounded more hounds, sprinting with impossible speed, leaping high against the walls.
The swarm had followed them all the way from the metro, and they wouldn't stop until Lili and the squad became one of them. The city now ruled by the Sad people was coming for them and fast.
"There up ahead!" Juno bellowed, pointing. Across the lobby, there were wide security arched double sets of reinforced glass doors, marked as leading into Bays 60–65. It was their gateway to Bay 63.
"Go!" Halvern roared. "Get the girl through no matter what!"
The riflemen dropped back without hesitation, turning on the run. Their rifles thundered, beams cutting swathes through the leading infected. Then finally after having come this far, together they decided to take out their grenades and use a few of them. With practiced movements they expertly tossed them at specific points to spread out their effects for maximum damage, and then the detonations came that lit the open area like fire. The front ranks of the swarm vanished in sprays of gore, limbs and heads flying, the rest climbing over the dead without pause.
"Keep moving!" Venn shouted as he hurled another grenade, the blast throwing a dozen Sad People against the walls in steaming chunks.
Rask barreled through the security checkpoints gates with Lili clinging to him, his roar drowned in the storm of fire. Halvern pushed with them, covering the retreat, firing in bursts even as the swarm closed in.
One by one, the riflemen pulled back—Karst, then Fenn, Juno—until only Venn who covered them remained, his pack nearly empty, his grenades all gone.
Then from above a large winged demon or whatever it was called came, Lili saw it smash into the already cracked windows shattering them enough for it to force it's head within. It's scream followed and tore through the spaceport corridors like a jagged blade.
It was a beastly scream. The sound carried something old and primal with it—an echo of predation that twisted the gut and made the hairs on the neck rise. The walls themselves seemed to shiver as the cry bounced down the frost-cracked hallways, stirring up flakes of ice and dust.
"MOVE Venn, now!" The Sargent yelled, his voice cracking through the air like a gunshot. Instinct responded where thought failed, and Venn stopped firing and just ran.
Venn's boots thundered over broken ferrocrete and shattered glass. He passed warped benches and the hollow remains of once-bright terminals used to scan id's and luggage. Far in the background Lili noticed were long-dead advertisements still clinging to the walls in curling sheets, their faded once cheerful colors promising smiling families safe passage aboard ships that would now probably never fly again.
Venn ran past it all, his boots kicking up frost and ash alike as he sprinted. The lightstone taped to his helmet cast sharp halos through the dim lit space, making the shadows jump and twist with every step.
And then up above the flying creature hit the glass again.
The glass up above gave way and exploded inward in a storm of shards, the roof groaning as the flying thing smashed through. Its wings were stretched membranes, black and slick, half-torn and lined with exposed ribs. Its body looked wrong—like it had once been something alive, but was now twisted beyond recognition into a parody of flight. It landed with a wet, crunching thud, talons gouging sparks from the frozen tile and sending the swarm of infected tumbling backwards.
But the creature was too late, Venn dropped and slid over the cold ground and past the security checkpoints gates into safety.
The abomination shrieked in rage, a screech like metal grinding on bone, and charged at them. And at that moment Lili saw it, fused into the creature's back was something horribly familiar. A harness.
Lili's stomach clenched. Her mind flashed with recognition. A rescue animal? A dog?
But no—no dog had eyes like that, or a mouth that split all the way back to the ears, or wings. In horror Lili watched from a top Rask's shoulders as the creature charged, luckily the gates locks bit in place just in time as it slammed into the reinforced glass security gates.
One gate smashed into bits instantly, although the glass security gate at their side held but bent inward, some thick shards of glass screaming like blades as they fell to the cold hard ground. Snow and wind blasted through the opening as the flying Demon pulled back and smashed itself against the closed checkpoint door again. The doors metallic hinges shrieked, bent, and cracked.
The glass shattered a bit, but not fully, just enough so its head punched through the gap, jaws snapping, teeth gnashing inches from the squad. Its mad growl's filled the chamber.
"Move!" Halvern roared again, his voice echoing above the chaos.
And the squad obeyed, boots hammering as they sprinted deeper into the bays, the swarm joining the demon as they crashed against the door behind them.
The corridor beyond the checkpoint stretched wide, easily broad enough for two heavy loaders to have once driven side by side. Now its width only made it feel emptier. Snow and dust swirled faintly across the frozen tiles, stirred by the echo of their boots.
Faded signs clung to the walls at long intervals, their paint cracked and worn by time. Most were unreadable through layers of frost, the numbers of each bay little more than ghostly smudges. Enormous blast doors lined the walls at regular distances — cargo bays once filled with thunder and motion. Now they stood sealed, silent, and dead.
The squad moved quickly but cautiously, weapons raised, lightstones sweeping over the walls.
"Eyes sharp," Halvern muttered. "We'll know the right Bay when we see it."
They passed Bay 60 — locked, half-buried under a collapsed gantry. Then Bay 61 its doors sealed shut by layers of ice.
As they approached what must have been Bay 62 and after that 63, they heard somewhere beyond, something scratching faintly against metal, but no one stopped to look. They simply had no time for caution or any exploration.
Then Lili noticed movement up ahead, a figure lurched from behind a frost-caked loader, staggering into their light. Its uniform marked it as a port worker, or well that's what Lili assumed, the Sargent hadn't yet thought her much about such things yet. Also the fabric hung in tatters, stiff with frozen blood which made it even harder to say to which profession this person used to belong to. Its face was locked in that same hideous smile, eyes streaming black tears. The ID badge still dangled from its chest.
It shrieked laughter and lunged.
Lasfire cut it down instantly in a storm of red bolts, the smell of scorched flesh filling the cold. The body twitched once, then went still.
Orrin knelt swiftly, rolling it over with the practiced calm of a battlefield scavenger. His gloved fingers worked through the frozen fabric until he pulled something free — a metallic access card, dulled by frost but intact.
"Got something," he muttered, holding it up. "Might be our key."
"Good, now let's keep moving," Halvern ordered.
They pressed on, past bay 62 and then finally they saw it. Each bay was sealed, their signs nearly unreadable beneath ice. But looking at the large metallic door before them, there was no mistake, this was 63.
Its numbers were faded but just visible enough in the lightstones' glow, etched in red across the massive doors. Frost clung thick across the seam, but the slot for an access card still blinked faintly with dying power.
Orrin stepped forward. The card scraped as it slid into the reader. For a heartbeat, nothing. Then —
CLUNK.
The lock disengaged.
Hydraulics groaned, ancient pistons shuddering against years of disuse. The massive blast doors creaked, shivering, then slowly began to grind open. A cold wind swept out, carrying the stale scent of rust and oil.
Light spilled into the corridor, pale and fractured.
They raised weapons instinctively — and froze. Then without a word the squad stepped cautiously across the threshold.
Bay 63 stretched out before them, vast and hollow. A cathedral of steel and frost.
Lili had never seen it before, but she could already imagine it. Once this place had most likely been alive with the thunder of engines, loaders trundling in endless lines moving things around, people shouting orders for others to lift that and move that, and something serious about paying many credits for parking space inside the bay or something like that. But sadly now there was no sounds of life, just a total silence. Their footfalls rang sharp against the frost-bitten tiles, swallowed quickly by the empty dark.
Cargo crates, blackened and warped, lay piled in crooked rows. Some were burst open, their yummy contents long since rotted into dust and ash. Massive scaffolds leaned precariously, frozen in place like skeletal sentries. High above, gantries hung like the ribs of a titanic beast, half-collapsed into shadow, their chains still swaying faintly as though moved by unseen hands.
And at the center of the vast place was a spaceship, or more specifically something Lili could instantly recognise as an old but standard issue Imperial freighter.
An ST-96, broad and heavy, its plating scarred with burn marks and its hull sheathed in frost. The Imperial aquila that was a funny looking three headed eagle bearing a shield and sword still clung faintly to its flank with it's little crown still visible a top the center most eagles head, though most of the paint had peeled away to bare metal. The ships ramp sagged half-open, like a mouth waiting to be fed with it's crew. Twin plasma drives rested silent at its stern, each rimed with ice, but whole.
For a moment, no one moved and all looked upon it with awe. Finally it seemed that their journey was coming to an end, although Lili couldn't help but think that the Sargent was probably just thinking about his retirement plan filled with riches and many busty women as she had heard him once say. He had thought that she was not listening and merely tending to her garden while they had all been fantasising around their sleeping quarters, but she had heard it all. Although most of the men's words she still didn't understand. Just why did credits matter so much, and why were they all so interested in women and expensive things anyway.
Looking around Lili noticed through their cracked visors and scarred helmets, they were all in awe and thought as if they had already made it.
Beneath Lili Rask exhaled heavily, the sound harsh in his vox. Fenn gave a short, broken laugh that teetered between madness and joy. The Corporal staggered forward a step, dropping to his knees as though in prayer. Lili couldn't help but smile under her mask, it seemed that coming here was indeed the right decision after all. Finally they were all becoming lively and happy again, full of hope and joy for the future.
"We made it," Venn breathed.
Only the Sergeant held his silence. His gaze quickly broke from the ship and swept the shadows, scanning for angles of attack, lines of fire, cover that could be used if it came to that, and most of all enemies hidden in the shadows. But Lili had seen him, even he had lingered too long on the ship, letting the dreams of a brighter tomorrow fill his mind. Hope gnawed at even iron discipline.
But quickly the Sargent had snapped back like a man waking from a dream, with his voice cutting across the bay like a blade:
"How long to prep her for takeoff?"
Venn blinked rapidly, tearing his gaze from the ship. "Eight minutes. Ten, maybe—if auxiliary power still runs."
"You get six." Halvern's reply was instant, merciless.
And just like that the spell broke, and the men were quickly on the move again. Seeing it all Lili felt like a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders and finally she could breathe, finally they were going to a better place with no sad people around.
Halvern led the men at the front, a murmur leaving his mouth as he did. "We might actually do this."
The words lingered in the frozen air like the last line of a hymn. Lili's heart felt a warmth hit it, she was happy, but quickly as it came it vanished and she felt danger.
Suddenly without warning the bay shuddered.
It began as a vibration, faint but unmistakable — a tremor that set frost trickling from the gantries above. Lili felt it first through her core, a prickle in her chest that made her breath catch. Then came the sound: a low, keening roar, growing louder until it pressed against her skull like a scream.
The men stopped on instinct, Rask's massive frame stiffened beneath her. Halvern's head snapped upward.
"—DROP POD!" the Sergeant bellowed.
The warning was already too late.
The ceiling split apart in fire and thunder. Reinforced ceramite cracked like glass as something massive, black, and alive tore through the dome above. Shards of metal rained down like knives, glass and steel shrieking as supports buckled and fell.
The pod screamed as it fell — wrapped in fire, trailing green fog, runes glowing along its seams as if it breathed.
It struck the freighter in the middle.
The ST-96 snapped in two like a toy. Its spine broke with a sound like the world's bones cracking. Plasma coils ruptured, vomiting fire in white-hot arcs. The ship wailed once, a hollow metallic scream, and then detonated.
The explosion swallowed Bay 63.
The shockwave slammed into them with the force of a god's fist sending Lili and the men flying.
Rask was hurled backward, his bulk flung into a toppled stack of containers. The crates collapsed around him with a deafening crash, sparks and frost bursting outward. The other men staggered and fell, armor ringing as they hit the deck — helmets cracking against steel, rifles skidding from their hands.
But Lili — smallest, lightest, and perched atop Rask's shoulders when the blast hit — flew the furthest.
She felt herself ripped from her perch, the world spinning in fire and light. For one awful instant she saw everything upside down — the flames clawing upward, the men vanishing into the smoke, the freighter breaking apart. She flew out of the bay and into the corridor head first slamming into the wall, her vision filled with star's and she barely even noticed as she fell to the hard floor.
Her little body skidded once across the ash-streaked tiles, tumbling until she lay sprawled against a broken container. The air tore from her lungs in a strangled gasp. Her ears rang. Her helmet rattled with each heartbeat.
For a moment, she couldn't move. Her world was that of darkness and stars. Her core of light kept her steady and through sheer determination she forced her trembling hands against the cold floor. It was cold, but her palms spread out and hands moved into a push-up position that was all too familiar to her, as her eyes slowly began to adjust as she then pushed herself up to her trembling knees.
Around her the smoke began to clear and through the haze she saw them.
Rask lay half-buried in shattered crates, already stirring. Venn was on his side, coughing hard, smoke rising from his scorched pack. Karst, Juno, and Fenn sprawled nearby, scattered but alive, their armor scorched and dented, lightstones flickering faintly through the dust. Orrin crouched low, shaking his head clear, one arm wrapped protectively around his battered med-pack.
They were scattered, but not gone.
And beyond them — the bay's center.
Where the freighter had stood, there was nothing now but a burning crater of twisted hull and molten debris. The pod squatted at its heart, black and steaming, its surface streaked with fire and filth. Flames curled around it, lighting the chamber in a sickly green glow.
Lili stared, her wide eyes reflecting the fire. Her lips trembled behind her mask. For a moment she watched, but then remembered to move, she remembered she had the power to help them and so she got to her feet and moved back into the bay.
In the center the pod hissed. Its seams pulsed with light, glowing like veins and slowly, with a groan of living metal, its petals began to spread.
Lili saw it, the pod split apart with a wet, mechanical scream.
Its blackened plates peeled back like the petals of a rotting flower, spilling fire and smoke into the chamber. Heat poured out and a stench rode the air—sour, choking, like dead things boiled in acid.
Lili's hands clutched at her mask, her small body trembling. Her ears still rang from the blast, but through the haze she could see the men moving.
Then suddenly the Sergeant's gauntlets seized her, pulling her hard against his chest and moving her behind a half-toppled cargo loader. His body shielded hers, his voice a harsh rasp in the vox:
"Stay low, girl! Don't move!"
Her wide eyes peered past his shoulder, watching. From the pod 4 shapes emerged and began moving through the fire at a walking pace.
They were hulking, massive silhouettes, each one twice as tall as Rask. They marched with the weight of machines, each footstep thundering against the broken deck. Their armor glowed with runes of sickness, green light pulsing through cracks where flesh oozed from iron. Flies swarmed thick around them, their buzzing louder than the crack of flames.
In Lili's mind, words formed without meaning to. Not men… not soldiers…
Giants. Rotten giants.
The first raised its weapon — a cannon fused to its arm, tubes twitching like veins as bile bubbled in its barrel.
The squad answered first.
Lasfire screamed across the bay, red beams searing through the smoke. Juno and Fenn fired in sharp, disciplined bursts, their bolts carving glowing lines across the giants' armor. Rask's rotary lascannon roared to life, filling the air with thunder, its barrels glowing red as he unleashed a storm. The heavy beams smashed into the flames, bursting against the figures with enough force to tear scaffolds from their bolts.
The giants staggered, but they did not fall.
They raised their weapons in reply.
The sound was like the sky breaking. A hail of large blight covered rounds hammered into the bay — shells the size of Lili's fists, ripping through scaffolds and loaders, slamming sparks from the deck. The loader shielding them shuddered as a round slammed into its side, tearing metal like paper.
Lili screamed as shards ricocheted past her helmet, her tiny hands covering her ears.
The Sergeant pressed her flat against the floor with one arm, firing his laspistol over the wreck with the other. His visor was cracked, his cheek bleeding, but his voice was iron:
"Hold the line! Make every shot count!"
From the corner of her blurred vision, she saw it happen.
Karst was sprinting toward a gantry, his rifle raised. He fired again and again, each bolt snapping against the glowing armor of the giants. For a heartbeat, he looked unstoppable.
Then a blight round found him.
It struck square in his chest. His body snapped backward, limbs jerking. For an instant he hung in the air, framed by firelight—then he was gone, hurled into the smoke, his scream cut short.
Lili's heart clenched. Her mouth opened, but no sound came.
The giants marched closer, their guns roaring.
And the squad kept firing, now without Karst. He was gone, forever lost and Lili felt it deep within. The Lightstones that had been taped to his body, most of them were still there, but now they weren't healing anything anymore as there was nothing left to heal.
For a heartbeat the squad faltered, shock rippling through their ranks. Then fury replaced it. Juno roared and broke cover, his lasrifle blazing on full-auto, beams slashing madly across the giants' armored torsos. Fenn followed without hesitation, screaming prayers through his vox as he hurled grenades with wild abandon. The blasts staggered one of the monsters, scorching its chest-plate, but it kept advancing, undeterred.
Halvern's voice cut through the madness, iron over chaos.
"Steady your fire! Don't waste it!"
But the men barely heard. Karst's death had cracked something in them. Years of claustrophobic survival, of waiting and hoping, had ended in a single moment of annihilation. And now they fought like men already dead, intent on dragging their killers down with them.
Rask planted himself in the center, rotary lascannon screaming. The barrels glowed white-hot, pouring streams of red energy that seared into the nearest giant, scorching runes from its armor and blasting chunks of flesh-metal free. The giant staggered, its bile-cannon arm sparking, but another stepped forward in its place, raising a cleaver the size of a man.
"Come on, you bastards!" Rask roared, his voice a thunder over the gun. "Come and meet your doom!"
The Corporal laughed—a high, broken sound. His mask was cracked, one eye bloodied. He tore grenades from his belt with trembling hands, shoving the last of them into his satchel.
"I'm done waiting! I'll take one with me before the end!"
"Venn, hold your—" Halvern began, but the words were lost.
Venn broke cover and sprinted, a lone figure against the firestorm. Blight rounds slammed into the deck around him, spraying sparks and shrapnel, but still he ran, screaming his rage. He dove beneath a cleaver swing, rolled to his knees, and jammed the satchel into the gap of a giant's leg armor.
The giant dropped it's cannon, and with a clawed metallic hand snatched Venn's head and began to squeeze, but before death Venn's laugh still managed to echo when the satchel detonated.
The blast blew the giant's leg away in a geyser of flame and gore. The hulking form toppled sideways, crashing into scaffolds with the force of a collapsing tower.
It was a victory — small, hollow — but it only enraged the others.
The return fire was merciless.
Juno vanished in a cloud of acidic bile, his scream cut short as his armor dissolved. Fenn's chest imploded under a slug, his body flung limply across the tiles. Orrin rose with a battle cry, charging with his knife, only to be torn apart mid-stride by a storm of rounds.
Rask held longest. His cannon poured fire even as rounds ripped through him, tearing holes in his massive frame. He staggered, still firing, still roaring defiance. Then a blight-shell struck him square in the head leaving nothing there.
He flew backward, crashing to the floor beside Lili's cover. His cannon skidded away, barrels still glowing, and his huge frame went still.
"No, Rask! Don't go!" Lili cried. She scrambled from under Halvern's arm, small hands glowing as she pressed them against his armor, into the blood pooling beneath. Her light flared, desperate, searching—
Her power surged into her eyes, letting her see wounds and illnesses as colour's in her vision through her touch, but there was nothing.
Only black. Cold.
She saw it for the first time, truly saw death. It stared back at her from the void inside his body, swallowing her light whole. Her breath caught, her chest heaving as horror gripped her. "N-no… no, please—!"
Halvern dragged her back just as another round tore into the loader beside them, showering them with steel. His arms locked tight around her trembling frame.
"It's too late, girl," he rasped, blood running from a crack in his visor. "He's gone, they're all gone and there's no saving them now."
The remaining giants closed in, their weapons smoking, their heavy boots crunching over steel and bone. Halvern let go of Lili and stood up, pointing his pistol out of cover and letting it bark weakly, bolts spitting into the giants as he desperately tried to hold them back and shield Lili with his body. But it was no use, almost immediately a shell struck him, tearing into his shoulder and nearly ripping his entire arm off, spinning him sideways.
He collapsed across her, blood soaking her cloak. His voice was a ragged whisper in her ear:
"Don't move… Just play dead."
His weight pressed her down, heavy and warm at first, then colder with each breath.
The chamber fell silent but for the stomp of armored boots. The giants loomed above, their shadows falling across the wreckage, weapons dripping rot. They stepped over corpses without pause, searching for survivors.
Lili lay frozen beneath Halvern's body, eyes wide, her small hands trembling. Shock stole her voice, her tears hidden behind the mask.
The last of her family lay dead around her.
And the giants were still coming.
Lili lay pinned beneath the Sergeant's weight, his blood soaking through her cloak. His breathing was shallow, ragged, each pull of air a struggle. She could feel him trembling, the warmth fading from his body with every passing second.
Desperate, she pressed her glowing hands against his chest, her Core flaring weakly, trying to knit his ruined flesh. "Please… I can fix you," she whispered, voice breaking.
But his gauntleted hand seized hers with surprising strength. "No… not this time." His voice rasped low, a dying man speaking to a child. "Don't waste it on me, girl. Just… stay still."
Her wide eyes filled with tears. "B-but I can—"
He shook his head, grim determination in his cracked visor. "Listen. We're going to play a game. A soldier's game. You and me. We play dead. Still as stone. No breathing loud, no crying. Just… pretend, Lili. Pretend like the others here." His eyes flicked briefly over the broken bodies of his men, then back to her. "You can do that, can't you?"
She bit her lip, trembling. "Pretend…?"
"Yes. Pretend." His voice softened, almost fatherly now. "It's just make-believe. You're good at games. Do this one right, and you'll win. You'll live."
With his one good arm, he fumbled at his belt and pulled free a single grenade. He pressed it into her small hands, sliding it beneath her cloak, against her chest.
"Take it," he whispered fiercely. "Keep it hidden. If they find you… show them mankind doesn't kneel." His hand squeezed hers, forcing her fingers to curl around the cold metal. "Watch me. Do as I do."
The thud of armored footsteps drew closer, each one shaking the deck. The rotten giants were advancing, weapons steaming, their heavy breaths like bellows through broken vox-filters.
Halvern's weight pressed down on Lili, his blood soaking through her cloak. She tried to keep still, like he'd told her, but her tiny chest heaved with fear.
Then one of the giants stopped.
Its massive shadow fell over their cover. Lili could hear the hiss of its vents, the wet bubbling of its armor seams. A stench rolled off it — rot and metal and old sickness.
The helm tilted. For a moment there was only the static rasp of its breath. Then, shockingly, words.
"Stiiiill… breathing… little ones'sss?"
The voice was a grotesque mockery of speech — broken, wet, like a child learning words for the first time.
Lili froze. Her mind reeled. The Sad People never spoke. They screamed, they laughed, they sang — but never spoke.
The giant leaned lower, its massive head twitching, lenses and cracked eyepieces glimmering green. Its words came slowly, drawn out, savoring each syllable.
"Come… join us… Sing our song. It bringsss… smileesss."
Its laughter followed, wet and bubbling, like phlegm caught in a throat.
Halvern's gauntlet clenched. His taped lightstones burned brighter inside his clothes, their glow racing across the wounds of his broken body healing him. With a roar he shoved himself upright, blood spraying from open wounds as he separated from Lili.
"FOR THE IMPERIUM!"
He leapt at the monster, Laspistol firing in one hand, grenade in the other.
The giant returned fire nearly instantly tearing Halvern apart mid leap, causing Halverns broken body to weakly slam into the giant, and then there was a flash.
The bay lit with fire, as the grenade detonated in his hands. The Sergeant's body blew apart into chunks, torn to pieces. Flesh, bone, and armor ripped into shards, spraying across the deck.
Lili was hit by the storm. His blood splattered her visor, chunks of meat slapped against her cloak, his helmet rolled past her knees. Her tiny hands clutched at her mask, muffling a scream that never made it past her lips.
Through the smoke, the giant still stood.
Although its helm was shattered, revealing a hideous face — bloated flesh, riddled with pustules, and eyes. Too many eyes. Insect-black and unblinking, dozens of them blinking wetly across its skull. Its tongue was swollen, too thick for its own mouth, lolling obscenely as it spoke again.
"Resilient… yes, but it is unfortunate. Many smiles have been lost… many facesss gone. Our song bringsss joy."
It tilted its head unnaturally, as though mimicking curiosity. "What about you, little one? Will you join us? I have heard our song has brought many smiles to many faces, yes, yes."
Lili trembled violently, tears streaming beneath her mask. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. She could only stare.
The thunder of more footsteps shook the deck.
From the fire and the wreckage came the rest — the other giants, their armor steaming with rot, their weapons still dripping. And behind them, pouring in through the open bay doors, came the swarm. The Sad People. Dozens, then hundreds, their grins stretched too wide, their eyes weeping black tears as they sang their mad lullaby.
They gathered around her, forming a circle. Smiling. Laughing. Singing.
Lili's tiny chest heaved. Her small hands curled into fists. She was surrounded. Alone.
The giant leaned closer. One enormous, filth-streaked gauntlet reached toward her. Its bloated face drew near, its cluster of insect-eyes locking on hers.
"Come," it rasped, voice wet and heavy. "Grand father, Lord Pestisss waits for you, little one."
The massive finger brushed her shoulder, but instantly it jerked back, as though burned. The creature hissed sharply, all its eyes blinking in discord.
"You… are different." Its tone shifted, a grotesque attempt at wonder. "What… are you, little one? Tell me."
For a moment Lili just stared up at it, paralyzed. She felt absolutely defeated, she felt useless, she hadn't been able to save anyone and now she was alone.
Then something in her snapped as she remembered the Sargent's words. She wanted to make him proud.
Her trembling hands moved beneath her cloak. She felt the grenade the Sergeant had given her, cold and heavy against her chest. Her fingers fumbled with the pin.
Her tears blurred the world, but her voice came out high and sharp, breaking with fear and defiance both:
"I'm not telling you anything… you big bully!"
She yanked the pin free and thrust the grenade upward with all her tiny strength.
The last thing she saw was the giant's eyes widening, reflections of the white flash blooming across its many lenses.
Then a searing flash of brilliant white enveloped everything—and in the blink of an eye, darkness claimed her.