The darkness below Station Zero was not empty. It was hungry.
A week had passed since the opening of the Vault. A week of drilling, organizing, and fortifying. But a fortress is only as secure as its perimeter, and the perimeter of the Deep Core tunnels was expanding.
Three kilometers down-tunnel from the station, the air was thick with rock dust and the smell of ancient, undisturbed earth. The smooth tiled floors of the metro had given way to rough-hewn bedrock, scarred by seismic activity and things that burrowed.
Varian stood still, the silence pressing against his eardrums.
In his right hand, he held The Sun-Piercer.
It was heavy. Denser than lead, lighter than steel, balanced perfectly. The matte-black shaft seemed to drink the ambient light from the moss-lamps, while the golden crystal blade hummed with a dormant energy that resonated in his very bones.
"It's too quiet, Boss," Gorgon rumbled, standing beside him.
The giant looked different. He had taken the Titan Blood Serum three days ago. It wasn't an instant transformation. It was a slow, grinding ache in his bones as they grew denser. He was already two inches taller, his stone skin taking on a darker, granite-like sheen. He hefted his new weapon—a massive tower shield Scrap-Jack had forged from melted-down train wheels.
"Quiet means it's stalking," Varian whispered. He adjusted his grip on the spear. He was still used to fighting up close—fists, claws, whips. A seven-foot weapon felt awkward, like trying to eat soup with a shovel.
"Rix?" Varian spoke into the comms.
"Up high," Rix's voice clicked. "Ceiling is... loose. Lots of cracks. Big worm sign."
Rix clung to a stalactite twenty meters above them. He hadn't taken the Void Essence yet. He carried the purple vial around his neck like a good-luck charm, terrified and awed by it. Big magic, he had said. Rix need right moment.
"Keep watching," Varian ordered.
He looked at theSymbiote on his left arm. It was wrapped around the spear's shaft, fusing flesh to weapon. It felt possessive of the new tool.
They were hunting a Tunnel-Wurm.
Rix's scouts had reported tremors shaking the foundations of the fungal gardens. Something big was chewing through the bedrock, getting closer to the station. Varian couldn't allow a Commander-Rank beast to breach their walls.
Besides, he needed to know what this spear could do.
RUMBLE.
The ground vibrated. Pebbles danced on the stone floor.
"Contact!" Rix shrieked. "North wall!"
It didn't burst out of the floor. It burst through the solid rock wall to their left.
CRASH!
A shower of granite debris exploded outward. Through the dust, a maw the size of a small car emerged. It was a ring of churning, diamond-hard teeth designed to pulverize stone.
[Enemy Encounter.][Subject: Granite Tunnel-Wurm.][Rank: Commander (Low-Tier).][Attributes: Heavy Armor (Rock Skin), Tremor Sense.]
The beast was massive—at least twenty meters long, its body segmented and covered in thick plates of ablative rock armor. It had no eyes, only heat pits along its flanks.
It sensed Varian's core.
ROAAAAAR!
The sound was deafening in the enclosed tunnel. The Wurm lunged, its mouth opening wide to swallow Varian whole.
"Gorgon! Block!"
Gorgon stepped in front of Varian, planting his feet. He raised the massive tower shield.
BOOM.
The Wurm slammed into the shield head-on. The impact was staggering. Gorgon was pushed back five meters, his boots carving deep trenches in the rock floor. But he held.
"It's... heavy!" Gorgon grunted, muscles bulging.
The Wurm recoiled, shaking its head. It wasn't used to prey that didn't crunch.
It whipped its tail around—a massive slab of rock—aiming to crush them both from the side.
"Move!" Varian yelled.
He rolled right; Gorgon rolled left. The tail slammed into the spot where they had been, shattering the stone floor.
Now.
Varian sprang to his feet. He was at medium range—perfect for a spear.
He thrust forward, aiming for a gap in the Wurm's rock plating near the neck segment.
CLANG.
The golden blade struck the rock armor. Sparks flew. The blade didn't chip, but it didn't penetrate either. It just skidded off the hardened stone.
"Damn it," Varian hissed, retreating as the Wurm snapped at him. "It's like hitting a mountain with a toothpick."
"Boss! Use the spicy end!" Rix yelled from the ceiling, throwing a rock to distract the beast.
Varian realized his mistake. He was fighting like a Scavenger, trying to find weak points. He was a Sovereign now. He didn't need to find weak points. He could make them.
He tightened his grip on the black shaft.
"Sun-Piercer. Ignite."
He didn't need to push caloric energy into it. He just opened the gate of his Solar Core.
The response was instant.
HUMMMMM.
The golden crystal blade didn't just glow; it turned blinding white. The air around the tip shimmered with intense thermal distortion. The heat was incredible—easily 3,000 degrees Celsius—but the matte-black shaft remained cool to the touch.
[Solar Edge: Active.][Caloric Cost: 0.]
"Incredible," Varian whispered, feeling the raw power humming in his hands.
The Wurm turned towards him again, drawn by the sudden spike in heat signature. It roared and charged.
Varian didn't dodge this time. He planted his feet, mimicking Gorgon's stance.
He held the spear low, tip swirling.
"Come on, you overgrown earthworm."
The Wurm lunged.
Varian sidestepped the maw by inches. As the massive, armored body thundered past him, Varian swung the spear in a tight, upward arc.
SHH-LICK.
There was no sound of impact. No clang of metal on rock.
The superheated blade sliced through the granite armor plating like a hot knife through frozen butter. It cauterized the flesh underneath instantly, leaving a glowing, molten slash along the beast's flank.
The Wurm shrieked—a high-pitched sound of agony—and crashed into the opposite wall. It thrashed wildly, confused by a pain it had never experienced.
"It cuts rock," Gorgon muttered, lowering his shield, awestruck.
Varian didn't celebrate. He pressed the advantage.
The Wurm tried to burrow back into the wall to escape.
"No you don't."
Varian sprinted up the side of the thrashing beast, his Symbiote-claw digging into the rock plates for traction. He reached the head segment.
He raised the spear high, point down, aiming right between the heat pits.
"Sleep."
He drove the spear down with all his strength.
The blade plunged deep into the Wurm's skull, melting through bone and brain matter instantly.
The massive beast convulsed violently once, nearly throwing Varian off, then went limp. Its massive body slumped to the tunnel floor, causing one final tremor.
[Target Eliminated.][Consuming Essence...]
The spear hummed, drinking the residual energy of the Commander-Rank beast. Varian felt a rush of power—cleaner and stronger than absorbing through the slime alone.
He pulled the spear free. The blade cooled instantly from white to gold. There was no blood on it. It was cauterized clean.
Varian stood atop his kill, breathing hard not from exertion, but from adrenaline.
"Zero cost," Varian laughed, a wild sound in the dark tunnel. "I could do this all day."
Gorgon walked over and kicked the carcass. "Commander Rank. Took us down in two minutes. We're getting scary, Boss."
Rix rappelled down from the ceiling, landing on the Wurm's back. He sniffed the molten wound.
"Smells like cooked stone," Rix wrinkled his nose. "Not good eating."
"We don't eat it," Varian said, hopping down. "We harvest it. Scrap-Jack can use these rock plates to reinforce the station gates. Rix, check the gut. Wurms swallow things they can't digest."
While Gorgon began the arduous task of sawing through the armor plates, Rix sliced open the Wurm's massive stomach sac.
A torrent of foul-smelling gray sludge spilled out—digested rocks and minerals.
"Ugh. Stinky pinata," Rix gagged, wading into the muck.
He dug around for a moment, then his ears perked up.
"Shiny!"
He pulled something out. It was metal. Covered in slime, but unmistakably manufactured.
It was a helmet.
Not ancient. Not scavenged.
It was sleek, made of a lightweight polymer alloy, painted matte gray with a blue stripe.
Varian walked over and took it. He wiped the slime off the visor.
On the side was a logo: A double helix wrapped around a gear.
[Genetic Archivist Scan.][Item: Tactical Scout Helmet.][Affiliation: Bio-Alchemy Union (Recon Division).]
Varian's blood ran cold.
"Union," Gorgon growled, stepping closer, his shield raised. "What are they doing this deep? The charts say this is dead territory."
"Scouts," Varian whispered. "Looking for something."
Rix dove back into the guts. "More! Rix find bag!"
He pulled out a waterproof satchel. Inside, the contents were partially dissolved by stomach acid, but a reinforced datapad survived.
Varian cracked the sealant and turned it on. The screen flickered, cracked, but legible.
It was a map.
It showed a route from the Industrial Belt (Sector 4) down through secret maintenance shafts, bypassing the sewers entirely, and ending near...
Varian traced the line. It ended near a large, circular structure marked in the "Rust-Jungle"—an area between the Industrial Belt and the true surface wilderness.
The location was labeled: "The Iron Coliseum - (Asset 49)."
Below it was a mission directive: "Objective: Locate high-tier beast specimens for the upcoming Grand Tournament. Acquire fighting slaves if opportunity arises."
Varian lowered the pad.
"They weren't looking for us," Varian said. "They were hunting for an arena."
"An arena?" Gorgon asked. "Like the pits in Rust-Town?"
"Bigger," Varian said. "Union-sponsored. That means money. Real money. Not scrap."
He looked back toward Station Zero. They were safe, yes. But they were poor. Scrap-Jack needed high-grade microprocessors to fix the station's geothermal reactor. Lady Venom needed rare compounds for her medicines. Things they couldn't find in the trash.
They needed Helix Credits. Millions of them.
And an arena... an arena was where credits flowed like blood.
A plan began to form in Varian's mind. A dangerous, arrogant plan.
"Gorgon," Varian said, a sharp smile cutting across his face. "How do you feel about a road trip?"
Gorgon looked at the helmet in Varian's hand. "Topside? Where the Union is?"
"Not as us," Varian said. He looked at the Sun-Piercer. It was too conspicuous. "We go undercover. As gladiators."
Rix tilted his head. "We fight for show? Like circus rats?"
"We fight for money," Varian corrected. "We win the tournament. We take the purse. And while we're there... we find out what else the Union is hiding in that Coliseum."
He tossed the Union helmet into the darkness.
"Pack your bags, boys. We're going to the circus."