The desert burned violet on the horizon, the air still trembling from the explosion that had gutted the hive. Asher stumbled across the churned sand, lungs heaving, armor groaning with every step. His rifle was clutched in one hand, his blade in the other, but both felt like dead weight. He had nothing left to give.
And still, the swarm chased him.
Gnashlings poured from fissures in the earth, snapping mandibles clattering like broken glass. Leapfangs bounded across dunes, their elongated limbs casting shadows in the dying light. The planet itself seemed to spit them out, furious that he had survived the nest.
He staggered to a stop, forcing his voice through the comms. His throat was raw, his words rasped, but he made them sharp.
> "This is Cadet Asher Veylan," he said, breath hitching. "Objective… complete. Nest collapsed. Requesting immediate extraction at my beacon coordinates."
For a moment, only static. His heart sank.
Then a voice crackled through, tight with disbelief.
> "Repeat, cadet? Identify yourself."
> "Asher Veylan," he snapped, pressing fingers against his helmet's mic as if force alone would make them hear. "Cadet. Penal deployment. Objective complete. I'm still alive, goddamn it. I need pickup."
Silence stretched. His stomach twisted. Then another voice, deeper, colder, filtered through.
> "Stand by."
On the command bridge of the carrier, men and women turned to stare at the holotable. His beacon pulsed red against the scorched terrain. The crater bloomed like a wound across the desert, wide enough to swallow a city block. The feeds confirmed the collapse subterranean scans showed only rubble where the nest had once stretched.
The commander leaned over the display, jaw tight. "Impossible," he muttered.
One officer swallowed hard. "Sir, if that's really him..."
The commander cut him off with a glare. Then he turned slowly, lifted the comm device from the table, and barked:
> "Deploy pickup ships. Mark beacon coordinates."
The room filled with murmurs, disbelief pressing against duty.
The commander ignored them. He stepped into his office, shut the door, and reached for a communication device, one reserved for higher channels. His voice dropped into something tight, restrained.
> "He survived."
The line crackled. The voice on the other end was calm. Cold.
> "…Interesting."
The commander's throat worked. He hung up.
---
On the desert floor, Asher lit his last flare. Red smoke hissed into the violet sky, streaking upward like a wound. He gripped it tight, waving it overhead as the swarm closed in. His boots pounded across sand, his breath ragged.
Leapfangs closed the distance. They always did.
One landed beside him, mandibles snapping. He spun, rifle barking, the round tearing through its skull. Another leapt from the dunes, and he dropped to a knee, firing twice into its chest before rolling aside.
His mags were almost dry. He could hear it in the hollow clicks.
> "Not now," he rasped, firing again. "Not fucking now."
Then he heard it, low, thrumming, cutting through the desert air.
Engines.
He looked up. A pickup ship broke through the clouds, its hull scorched, its cannons already swiveling. The turrets spat fire into the swarm, tearing Gnashlings into clouds of ichor, forcing Leapfangs into explosive bursts mid-air.
The ship dropped lower. A side hatch yawned open.
"COME ON!" a crewman shouted, voice breaking through the roar.
Asher didn't hesitate. He sprinted, legs blurring with his unnatural speed, sand spraying behind him. Leapfangs lunged from both sides, forcing him to spin and fire his last mag, dropping one, then another. The third nearly took him, its mandibles clamping around his arm but he twisted, momentum carrying him into a brutal slash with his blade that split its head in two.
The hatch was still twenty meters away.
He pushed harder, his body moving like lightning, the desert a smear beneath his boots. The crew inside leaned out, eyes wide, muttering in disbelief.
"Holy shit, he's fast!"
"He's a blur, what the fuck..."
Asher launched himself off a dune, vaulting high, higher than any human soldier had a right to. He sailed through the air and crashed into the hatch, rolling across the floor as the crew yanked him in.
The hatch slammed shut. The ship banked upward, cannons thundering.
Asher lay on the deck, chest heaving, vision swimming. His armor was caked in ichor, his visor cracked, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. For the first time since the pod had fired him at the planet, he allowed himself to collapse.
One crewman whispered it, barely audible.
"…he's actually still alive."
The others stared at him as though a ghost had crawled aboard.
---
The cruiser loomed like a steel titan in orbit, its hull bristling with guns. The pickup ship docked with a heavy groan, clamps locking in place.
Asher forced himself up, every joint protesting. His blade was sheathed, his rifle slung across his back. He walked off the ramp with the steadiness of a dead man still refusing to fall.
The hangar was crowded, soldiers, officers, medics. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. Eyes widened.
Whispers rippled through the rows.
"That's the penal kid."
"He was supposed to be dead already."
"He actually survives"
He ignored them. His boots carried him forward, step by step, until a pair of guards fell in beside him. They didn't touch him, didn't need to. He followed them through the steel corridors until the doors opened into the commander's office.
The man stood waiting behind a wide desk, hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was hard, assessing, as Asher entered.
The door sealed shut.
The commander's voice was low, heavy. "It's a miracle you survived."
Asher's throat was raw, but he forced a smile, thin, bitter. "Yeah. Definitely a miracle."
The commander studied him for a long, silent beat. Then he nodded. "The objective was completed. Alone. That alone is… remarkable... but this isn't my decision. The court will decide what is to be done with you."
He stepped forward, extending a hand. "Your helmet. The footage will be reviewed. If your story holds, the record will be amended."
Asher hesitated only a moment. Then he unclasped the helmet, handing it over. His sweat-streaked face met the cold air, pale and gaunt beneath the harsh light.
The commander's eyes lingered. Something unreadable passed through them. Then he turned away.
"You're dismissed."
Asher left without a word.
---
The barracks were loud with returning squads. Armor clattered, voices rose, medics called for stretchers. The stink of ichor clung to everything.
Asher dropped into a chair against the wall, head tilting back, eyes slipping shut. His body begged for sleep, but he clung to awareness, to the hum of the cruiser beneath him.
It wasn't long before the whispers reached him.
"That's him."
"The cadet."
"No fucking way."
He opened one eye, watching them from the corner. Dozens of soldiers stared at him, their faces a mix of awe and fear. Some shook their heads, muttering prayers. Others simply avoided his gaze, as if looking too long might invite trouble.
He didn't care. He leaned back, closing his eyes again.
At some point, he drifted into a half-sleep, only to wake hours later, his stomach gnawing. He dragged himself to the mess hall.
It was the same there, every head turning, every conversation stuttering. Forks froze in midair. The silence pressed thick, suffocating.
Asher ignored them all. He grabbed a tray, piled it with whatever slop passed for food, and sat in the corner. His jaw worked slowly, each bite heavy, mechanical.
But inside, his thoughts raced.
He blinked his UI open.
---
Asher Veylan
KC (Kill Credits): 12,477
Strength: 2× Peak Human (Cost: 100)
Agility: 4× Peak Human (Cost: 400)
Endurance: 3× Peak Human (Cost: 200)
(Max: 50×)
Body Modifications: —
Bind Subjects: —
---
His fork froze halfway to his mouth. His eyes widened.
"Twelve thousand…" he whispered.
He swallowed hard, throat tight. Then a sharp, bitter laugh slipped free.
"I'm fucking rich."
He leaned back, staring at the glowing options, at the endless array of modifications waiting behind the shop interface. His heart hammered, not from exhaustion now, but from possibility.
His lips curled into something halfway between a grin and a snarl.
"Should I just go shopping or just upgrade my attributes?"