The hum of the Bloodhawk's engines droned like a vibrating heartbeat beneath Netoshka's skull. Even in sleep, she felt it — the rhythmic pulse of steel, the airship cutting through cold altitudes. Her body lay still on her bunk, but her mind was somewhere else entirely.
Darkness.
Then a flicker.
A single CRT monitor snapped to life in front of her, bathing her in sickly blue light. She found herself strapped to a metal chair, wrists bound with tape, chains biting into her ankles. The air was thick with dust and static.
Another screen lit up.
Then another.
Then dozens.
Frequencies. Numbers. Morse code. Chanting. Symbols.
The screens vomited data and whispers that crawled across her skin like insects, burning into her flesh as ritual marks bled up from beneath the surface. Each pulse of light made her veins twitch.
Netoshka opened her mouth to scream but only static poured out.
Shadow silhouettes gathered at the edge of the room — tall, familiar, faceless. The shapes of people she once knew. Team. Family. Enemies. Ghosts. They watched her silently as the symbols tightened around her arms like living chains.
A tall figure stepped forward, wearing a military uniform soaked in dark, dried blood. His boots echoed as if the ground itself feared them.
He leaned in, hollow eyes boring into her.
"Netoshka… why did you fail me?"
The symbols flared.
The screens screamed.
Her mind fractured.
She jolted awake.
She sucked in air, lungs burning. Sweat drenched her collar, sticking her hair to her temples. Her bunk curtain was half-open — she must have thrashed in her sleep.
Down the dorm hall, members of Inferius moved about in scattered routines, unaware of her nightmare's aftershocks.
Zev froze mid-step.
He had been passing her room and accidentally saw her glitch — her body distorting for a split second like corrupted footage. He turned pale and quietly backed away.
In the adjacent dorm, Rue sat on her bunk polishing a gadget, glancing up as Zev stepped inside shakily.
"…what's wrong with your face?" she asked.
He said nothing.
Rue narrowed her eyes.
"Zev. What happened?"
She only got silence until she finally hissed, "Talk."
"…I heard her screaming," he muttered. "Door was open. I wasn't spying! But—she was glitching. Like… twisting. And talking in a language I've never heard."
Rue's expression drained. "Netoshka doesn't do that."
Before she could say more, Netoshka entered the room, wiping sweat from her brow.
Both teens straightened like guilty soldiers.
Netoshka paused. "…Why do you two look like you've seen a ghost?"
More silence.
She sighed, rubbed her forehead, and grabbed a small milk carton from the mini-fridge. "If something happened, spit it out."
Zev finally exhaled. "Commander, your door was a little open. I heard… something. And I saw you glitching."
Rue nodded stiffly.
Netoshka stared at them, then breathed deeply. "…Good. You told me."
That honesty mattered.
"But next time," she added, pointing at Zev, "close my damn door."
The tension broke slightly. Rue let out a tiny laugh she instantly hid.
Still, Netoshka felt it — something was wrong. The glitching. The subconscious corruption. She didn't let it show.
Elsewhere in the Bloodhawk…
• Zopi sat at the balcony railing, sniper scope lazily sweeping the sky as she hummed a quiet tune.
• Surgien stitched a small wound on his own arm while complaining loudly to no one.
• Ron and Battery were in the cockpit, the veteran engineer tapping instrument panels while the robot piloted with perfect mechanical precision.
• Raine did slow, heavy reps with a massive metal bar like the ship itself didn't weigh enough for him.
• Alev practiced flicking small sparks between his fingers, setting off tiny embers that Battery kept warning him about.
• Taran stood near the observation window, grim but calm, cleaning his rifle out of habit.
• Serah sipped tea like a noblewoman on vacation.
• Twila amused herself by mimicking crew members' voices under her breath.
• B4TT3RY monitored flight systems and occasionally lectured Ron about "old human maintenance inefficiency."
• Genrihk. stood on the upper deck, staff in hand, staring into distant clouds with necromantic sense open to the winds.
Spectr also stood on the upper deck. Closely observing the clouds in case of any enemy attack.
• Cirke meditated with a small spectral fox curled around her.
• Ginny typed rapidly on her portable console, hacking into local air frequencies for fun.
• Renzo adjusted his sensory visor, scanning thermal patterns across the distant sky.
The Bloodhawk floated peacefully through white cloud plains — its crew scattered, relaxed, recovering.
Until Surgien's voice echoed down the hallway:
"HEY! Boss! Generator's offline again!"
Netoshka appeared instantly, jaw tight.
"What now?"
"The auxiliary power core needs restarting," Surgien grumbled. "And obviously I have to go down there."
Netoshka just stared in silence, but her scary look already shook him with fear cause she is not gonna say it as he knows she will snap.
He caved instantly. "…Okay, okay, fine. I'm going."
She jerked her head toward the elevator.
"Zev, Rue. With him, Now"
Zev groaned. Rue sighed louder.
They descended the staircase toward the dim lower deck — unaware that the worst part of their day so far wouldn't be nightmares, glitches, or trauma…
…but the rat-infested hell waiting in the generator room.