The wind turned strange. It wasn't just a breeze. It moved like a predator — low, fast, and sure. It swept over the dead flats and pulled silence in its wake. No insects. No hissing sand. No distant groans from the dunes. Just the crackling of the fire, small and dying. The red flickers barely pushed back the dark. One motion sensor clicked to life, then blinked out again. Asher sat on the edge of the outpost's broken platform, legs dangling over scorched steel. A borrowed rifle rested across his lap, unfamiliar weight pressing into his thighs. He wasn't supposed to be awake. He wasn't even on guard. He just couldn't sleep. Not with the memory in his spine. It pulsed again — not pain, not warning. Just presence. Deep. Steady. Alive. He didn't know what to call it. Not a Void Shard. Those were pieces. Fragments. This wasn't broken. It was whole. It was watching. A Void Stone. And it had chosen him. The thought made him sick. The world wasn't supposed to be like this. There were supposed to be governments. Borders. Stability. A future. Instead, there were rifts — violent cracks in the sky that spilled monsters onto the land. Rift Beasts: crawling, flying, twisting horrors that didn't belong to any science. Some were massive — like buildings with eyes. Others slithered like shadows. And North America had lost half its cities before anyone figured out how to fight back. Then out of the chaos came a man, now known as the Emperor. Very few knew his real name. Just that he appeared after the fall, rallied the survivors, and forged an army. Fortresses went up. Void walls. Kill zones. The Empire was born not from peace — but from retreat.
And then came the Void Shards. Each Rift Beast, when killed, left something behind — something pulsing with black fire. Shards. They fused to skin, changed the body. Power. Speed. Reflexes. But they came with a cost. Mutations. With every gain from the mutation came a cost — each new strength opened the door to a new vulnerability. For every power came a drawback. Asher had read about it. Heard soldiers whisper about it. But none of that prepared him for the thing in his spine now. This wasn't just power. It was a presence. A hand inside his ribs. Beth's footsteps broke the silence behind him. She didn't say anything at first. Just climbed up and sat beside him. Her boots scraped the metal once. That was it. He glanced sideways. She didn't meet his eyes. Her braid was tighter than before. Her gear was spotless. Always perfect. "Something's wrong," he said quietly. Beth nodded once. "Yeah. I feel it too." They didn't talk for a while. The fire cracked once, then again. The wind picked up — but the sand didn't shift. "It's too clean," Asher said. Beth's fingers flexed against her knee. "Hunting weather. Drones prefer cold sand. Helps them stay invisible to heat scans." He snorted under his breath. "Fantastic. I was hoping for a relaxing night of paranoia." She didn't laugh. He shifted, staring out into the endless black. "Why do I feel like they're not the ones hunting tonight?" "They're always hunting," Beth said. "But tonight… it feels different." "They know," Asher muttered. "Something knows we are here." Beth turned toward him, but he waved it off. "Forget it. Just… tired."
"They shouldn't be this far north," he added. "They're not. Or they weren't." Beth's voice was dry. Controlled. But not indifferent. The Hive Queen. That's what changed everything. She'd come up from the south. Wyrm-class, Level Four. Big enough to control drone swarms for miles. Her arrival broke all the rules — changed Empire maps overnight. No one knew why she moved. Some said she was fleeing something worse. Others thought she was following something she wanted. Beth stood. Her shadow stretched toward the fire. "You should sleep. We move at first light." Asher didn't move. The Stone pulsed again. A heartbeat in reverse. Like something drawing in breath. Beth noticed. She turned back, knelt, and looked at him directly. "What is it?" Before he could answer, her hand touched his forearm. The effect was instant. His thoughts slowed. His panic dimmed. A calm wrapped around his chest — soft but absolute. Like the tension had been lifted by someone else. It wasn't real. It was her. He blinked. Just once. Gone. She pulled her hand away. "What is it?" she asked again, as if the first time hadn't happened. Asher stared at her for a long moment. Then said, "You tell me. That little trick yours?" Beth tilted her head. "What trick?" "Don't play dumb," he said. "You touched me and my brain went quiet. That wasn't normal." Beth didn't answer. He exhaled. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Just don't expect me to sleep easy around you." Beth didn't push. But she didn't relax either.
The Stone pulsed again. And this time, the ground answered. A shiver beneath his boots. He stood. Beth moved too. Then they heard it. A sound. High. Thin. Metallic. Like wire scraping bone. The sensor blinked red. Then another. Thorne's voice cut the night. "Positions! Lights up! Rifles ready!" Beth was already moving. Rifle in hand. Commands in her throat. The first drone leapt from the ridge. Black flesh. Too many joints. Human-shaped only if you squinted. Its mouth was a rift of teeth. Its eyes were white-hot coals. Gunfire lit the dark. Asher aimed. Fired. Missed. Fired again. The drone collapsed. Another took its place. Then two more. They poured over the ridge like shadows given hunger. Beth dropped to a knee beside him. "Hit the joints. Not the torso." He nodded. Swallowed back fear. Fired again. To the right, Ryvak screamed. Wild. Panicked. His shots scattered wide. He dropped his rifle, grabbed a knife, swung blind. A drone lunged from the sand. Its arm twisted into a spear and drove straight through a soldier's chest. The body went limp before it hit the ground. Asher's hands trembled. The Stone burned. Not in pain — in instinct.
He moved. Rolled sideways. Grabbed a fallen shard-spear. Drove it into a drone's underarm. Screech. It collapsed. Beth's voice behind him. "Good. Stay close." But her tone wasn't praise. It was command. They weren't allies. Not yet. He was still an unknown. A question mark. Another wave hit. Three drones. Then five. Then eight. Thorne shouted from the barricade. "Circle the tents! Form a kill pocket! Stay inside the light!" Asher dropped low, rolled behind cover. Everything was chaos. Screams. Steel. Gunfire. The ground shook again. But this time… it wasn't from the drones. It was deeper. From under the sand. Asher looked at Beth. She'd felt it too. She turned toward the ridge. And there—just for a breath—he saw it. A silhouette. Twice the size of the others. Not crawling. Standing. A crown of thorns and bone. The Hive Queen. Watching. Waiting. And behind her? More coming. The real attack hadn't started yet. This was just her knock at the door. But what if the Hive Queen wasn't hunting them at all…? thought Asher. What if she was answering something that had already awakened?