The death of a King usually brings silence. But the death of the Dragon King brought a scream that echoed across the electromagnetic spectrum.
Varian knelt in the ash of the caldera, his chest heaving. The Abyssal Armor had retracted into his skin, leaving him shivering in the sudden drop of temperature. The air, moments ago superheated to the point of plasma, was now rapidly cooling as the Dragon's thermal influence faded.
In his hand, the Heart Key pulsed.
BEEP... BEEP... BEEP.
It wasn't a sound. It was a psychic pressure, a rhythmic throb that felt like a migraine syncing with his heartbeat. A beam of invisible data was shooting straight up from the device, piercing the smoke, piercing the rock layers, alerting the gods above that a thief had entered the temple.
"Turn it off," Gorgon rumbled, limping over. The giant's stone skin was cracked, glowing faintly with residual heat. He looked at the device with suspicion. "Smash it."
"I can't," Varian coughed, spitting black phlegm. His internal organs felt bruised, cooked by the proximity to the Dragon's maw. "If I destroy it, we can't open the Zero Point. It's a fail-safe."
The Architect scurried out from the wreckage of the Iron Sovereign, waving a handheld scanner frantically.
"It's a Distress Beacon!" The Architect shrieked. "Class Alpha priority! It's broadcasting our coordinates to every Union satellite and Church relay within a thousand miles! We are pinging on the map like a supernova!"
Varian looked up at the smoky sky.
"How long?"
"Until they get here? Hours," The Architect said. "Maybe less if they have orbital drop capabilities. The Church has Sun-Strike platforms. They could just laser this island off the map."
Varian forced himself to stand. His legs shook.
He looked at the Dragon's corpse. The massive salamander was already turning gray, its obsidian scales losing their luster as the life force left them.
"We need cover," Varian said. "Get everyone off the ship. We move into the caves."
"The ship..." Scrap-Jack's voice broke over the comms. "Boss... she's dead."
Varian looked down the slope.
The Iron Sovereign lay upside down at the base of the crater wall. The boring drill was vaporized. The treads were sheared off. Smoke poured from the shattered hull.
It was a total loss.
The Dreg soldiers were crawling out of the hatches, coughing, dragging the wounded. They looked at their invincible fortress, now just a pile of scrap metal.
"We walk," Varian said, his voice hard. "Grab the supplies. Grab the ammo. Leave the rest."
While the Legion mobilized, scavenging what they could from the wreck, Varian walked back to the Dragon's head.
Silas was standing there, poking the Dragon's eye with his cane. Nosferatu, his bat, was lapping up a pool of cooling blue dragon blood.
"A waste," Silas murmured. "So much power, just rotting."
"We aren't leaving it all," Varian said.
He activated Onyx.
The black liquid metal coated his right arm, forming a serrated blade.
Varian carved into the Dragon's jaw. He peeled back the scales.
Underneath, the Dragon's flesh wasn't meat. It was a dense, fibrous material that looked like woven carbon fiber.
[Genetic Archivist Scan.][Material: Dragon-Weave (Biological Carbon).][Properties: Extreme Heat Resistance / High Tensile Strength.]
"Scrap-Jack!" Varian shouted. "Get the saws! I want as much of this hide as you can carry. We need new cloaks."
"Cloaks?" Scrap-Jack asked, limping up the hill.
"If we are going deeper, it's going to get hotter," Varian said. "This skin resists plasma. It will protect us."
Varian turned his attention to the Thermal Vents on the Dragon's back. He cut one open.
Inside, he found a cluster of crystals. They were red, pulsing with heat.
[Item: Magma-Glands.][Grade: Rare.][Effect: Stores thermal energy. Can be used as grenades or fuel.]
Varian harvested them. He handed a bag of the glowing stones to Gorgon.
"Snacks," Varian said. "For your armor."
Gorgon took one. He crunched it like an apple. The Crimson Paladin armor on his body flared brightly, the dull red turning vibrant. The cracks in Gorgon's stone skin began to knit together.
"Spicy," Gorgon grunted, looking stronger.
"Boss," Rix called from the back of the crater. The Rat-Captain was standing in front of a dark opening—a cave mouth hidden behind the Dragon's tail. "Rix smells wind. Cool wind."
Varian walked over.
The cave didn't look natural. The edges were smooth, fused glass. It spiraled downward, into the earth.
"The Architect," Varian called. "What is this?"
The Architect adjusted his goggles, peering into the dark.
"It's an Intake Valve," the old man whispered. "The Dragon wasn't just living here. He was guarding the ventilation system for the planetary core. This tube... it goes straight down to the Mantle Layer."
"Does it lead to the Zero Point?"
"Eventually. But first, it passes through the Old World Ruins. The cities that sank during the Rejection."
Varian looked at the dark tunnel. Then he looked at the sky.
Lightning was flashing in the clouds above the Magma Sea. Not natural lightning. Warp-Signatures. Ships were arriving.
"We go down," Varian ordered. "Into the vent."
The March of the Broken
The evacuation of the crater was a grim parade.
Three thousand soldiers, refugees, and mutants marched in a single file line. They carried crates of food, rifles, and wrapped bundles of Dragon-Skin.
There were no vehicles. The wounded were carried on stretchers made of the Sovereign's interior paneling.
Goliath, the massive Cyborg-Gorilla, carried the heaviest load—the Geothermal Core. Scrap-Jack had rigged it into a backpack. It hummed, providing a small radius of power for the portable lights.
Varian stood at the entrance of the cave, watching his people file past.
He saw the fear in their eyes. They had lost their home (Station Zero). They had lost their ship. Now they were walking into a hole in the ground with no end in sight.
"They're scared," Lady Venom said, standing beside him. She had scavenged a piece of dragon scale to use as a shield for her tail.
"Fear keeps them moving," Varian said.
"Hope keeps them moving," Venom corrected. "They need to know we have a plan, Varian. Right now, it looks like we are just running."
Varian looked at the Key clipped to his belt. It was still beeping.
"We aren't running," Varian said. "We're luring."
"Luring who?"
"Them."
Varian pointed to the sky.
The clouds broke.
A massive shape descended from the smog.
It was a Union Dreadnought. A flying fortress, bristling with cannons. And flanking it were three Church Cathedrals—white, floating ships shaped like crosses.
They had arrived.
"Into the tunnel!" Varian shouted. "Seal the entrance!"
The last of the Legion scrambled into the glass tube.
Varian stood at the threshold. He raised the Sun-Piercer.
[Catalyst: Magma-Core.]
He struck the ceiling of the cave entrance.
The obsidian rock shattered. Tons of debris collapsed, sealing the tunnel mouth.
They were trapped in the dark. Again.
But this time, they were deeper than anyone had ever gone.
The descent was long. The tunnel spiraled down for miles. The air grew stale, then strangely fresh.
After hours of walking, the tunnel opened up.
Varian stopped. The Legion crowded behind him, gasping.
They weren't in a cave. They were standing on a balcony overlooking a massive subterranean cavern.
And in the center of the cavern, illuminated by bioluminescent fungi growing on the ceiling, was a city.
It wasn't a ruin like the Metro Station. It was a metropolis.
Skyscrapers of glass and steel, untouched by rust, rose from the floor. Elevated highways wove between them. But there were no lights. No movement.
It was perfectly preserved. A city in a bottle.
[Location Discovered: Sector 9.5 - The Sunken Capital.][Status: Abandoned (Year 0).]
"By the Machine God," Scrap-Jack whispered. "It's pristine. Look at that alloy! That's Pre-War architecture!"
"It's a graveyard," Silas said, sniffing the air. "I smell dust. Ancient dust."
"We camp there," Varian pointed to a large plaza in the center of the city. "There's cover. And if the buildings are intact, there might be power."
They descended into the silent streets.
It was eerie. Cars still sat in traffic jams, their tires rotted away but their chassis gleaming. Shops displayed goods that had turned to dust centuries ago.
They reached the plaza.
In the center stood a statue.
It was a man holding a spear toward the sky.
Varian walked up to it. He wiped the dust from the plaque.
[ARTHUR VANCE - FOUNDER OF PROJECT SYMBIOSIS]["We create the monsters to save the men."]
Varian looked at the statue. It was the same man from the hologram in the Vault. The Solar Sovereign.
"He built this," Varian realized. "This was his city."
"Boss," Rix pulled on Varian's pant leg. "Statue is humming."
Varian placed his hand on the pedestal.
He felt it. A faint vibration.
And his Heart Key beeped in response.
Ping.
A hidden panel in the base of the statue slid open.
Inside was a terminal. It wasn't dead. A green cursor blinked on the screen.
[AUTHORITY KEY DETECTED.][WELCOME, ADMINISTRATOR.][SYSTEM STATUS: STANDBY.][INITIATE DEFENSE PROTOCOLS? Y/N]
Varian stared at the screen.
Defense Protocols.
"Architect," Varian called out. "What does this control?"
The Architect rushed over. He plugged his datapad into the terminal. His eyes widened.
"This isn't just a city," The Architect breathed. "It's a Factory. A manufacturing plant for the first generation of Anti-Angel weapons."
He pointed to the skyscrapers.
"Those aren't office buildings. They are Silos."
Varian looked up at the silent towers.
"Silos for what?"
"For Gargantuans," The Architect said. "Bio-Mechanical Titans designed to fight Seraphims."
The Architect looked at Varian.
"They are still here. Sleeping."
Varian looked at the prompt: [INITIATE DEFENSE PROTOCOLS?]
"If we wake them up," Varian asked. "Will they fight for us?"
"They will fight anything with a Holy Energy signature," The Architect said. "They were programmed to kill Angels."
Varian smiled. It was a cold, tired smile.
Above them, miles up, the Union and the Church were drilling through the rock, coming to kill them.
"Let's give them a welcome party," Varian said.
He pressed [Y].
The ground shook.
The lights in the skyscrapers flickered on.
Deep beneath the city, massive engines roared to life.