The pitch-black tear in reality spat the Strider out into a graveyard of dying stars. Requiem immediately cut the sub-light engines, allowing the dreadnought to drift silently into the fringes of the uncharted system.
Before them loomed the Dead World. It was not merely a planet, but a colossal, hollowed-out celestial body whose molten core had been replaced by a pulsing, violet Abyssal forge. Millions of jagged metal scaffolds and docking rings protruded from the planetary crust, swarming with demonic dreadnoughts and hollowed-out slave ships.
However, blocking their path was a dense asteroid belt that seemed to breathe.
"Stop the ship!" the Abyssal Weaver shrieked, pressing his face against the bridge viewport. "Do not move another inch!"
Kylus enhanced the optical sensors. The 'asteroids' were not made of rock. They were millions of Void-Mines—grotesque, sentient masses of fleshy tendrils and volatile void energy drifting lazily through the vacuum.
