The emergency corridor sloped downward like the throat of some metallic beast, lined with flickering hazard strips and vents coughing out thin clouds of steam. Rourke sprinted beside Inspector Vehr, boots pounding the deck, lungs burning. Behind them, the distant footsteps of the Hunter echoed with unnerving precision—slow, deliberate, impossibly calm.
It didn't run.
It didn't need to.
Hunters always closed the distance.
Vehr tapped his wrist-com. "Seren? We're heading to Deck Twelve! What's your status?"
Static burst through the channel. A garbled gasp followed.
"—injured… the Hunter—" The rest dissolved into a shriek of bending metal.
"Seren!" Vehr roared. "Respond!"
Silence.
Rourke's chest tightened. "Is she—?"
"She's not dead," Vehr snapped, jaw clenched. "Hunters don't kill targets they haven't analyzed."
Rourke swallowed. "That doesn't make me feel better."
"It wasn't supposed to."
They reached a pressure-sealed door stamped with red Dominion insignia. Vehr slammed his palm on the control panel.
The door didn't open.
Instead:
ACCESS DENIED: EMERGENCY POWER LOCKOUT.
Vehr cursed. "Manual override!"
He tore open the panel, sparks flashing. He began hot-wiring the magnetic locks, fingers moving with the precision of someone who'd broken into his own ship more than once.
Rourke turned back down the corridor.
The lights at the far end flickered—
—then bent.
The air itself began to warp, as if space were folding around something approaching.
"Vehr…" Rourke whispered. "It's close."
"Keep it together," Vehr muttered, rerouting wires. "I just need—one—more—"
A screech split the corridor like a razor dragged across steel.
The Hunter emerged from the shadows.
Its height filled the entire hallway. Its body shimmered faintly, gravity distorting light around it. Those three blue lights glowed brighter, locking onto Rourke with predatory intent.
Rourke felt the pull instantly—deep in his bones, like a hook buried beneath his ribs. His knees weakened. The pressure inside him surged, responding to the alien force.
Not enough to fight.
Just enough to drown him.
"Not again," he whispered, gripping the wall to stay upright.
Vehr pulled the last wire. "Door's open—MOVE!"
The steel slab hissed open just as the Hunter took its first step.
Rourke stumbled through. Vehr followed, slamming the emergency lever. The door sealed behind them with a heavy thud as the corridor lights flickered violently.
A heartbeat later:
BOOM.
The Hunter slammed into the door from the other side. The steel dented inward like paper.
"Keep going!" Vehr urged.
They ran.
The Escape Deck
Deck Twelve was an enormous chamber stretching across the lower spine of the ship. Escape pods lined each side—sleek, bullet-shaped capsules designed to launch survivors into the void. But half the pods hung open, damaged, sparking, or missing entirely.
The attack had been thorough.
Rourke scanned the room, panic rising. "There's barely any left!"
"One pod's enough," Vehr answered, heading toward a functioning one. "We just need to detach before that thing breaks through—"
He froze.
On the far side of the deck, a figure limped forward clutching her side.
"Seren!" Vehr sprinted toward her.
Agent Seren's armor was cracked down the center, her left arm hanging limp. Her lips were split, and blood stained her temple, but her eyes were still sharp.
"They didn't… take me," she rasped. "They tried. Something else happened."
"What happened?" Rourke asked.
Seren hesitated, glancing at him. "It turned away from me. The moment it sensed you were moving."
Rourke's skin crawled.
The Hunter wasn't after the Dominion.
It was after him, and him alone.
Vehr supported Seren with one arm. "We're leaving on Pod C-19. Rourke, help me with—"
A deafening blast rocked the deck.
The sealed door at the far end bulged outward.
Another blow.
Metal peeled.
The Hunter was coming through.
"Get in the pod!" Vehr shouted.
Seren moved as fast as she could with her injuries. Rourke climbed into the pod ahead of her, reaching back to help her through the hatch.
Vehr remained outside.
"Get in!" Rourke said. "It's going to break through!"
"I need to detach the magnetic clamps manually," Vehr said, working on the control panel. "Go!"
CRAAACK—
The door tore open.
The Hunter stepped into the escape deck.
Gravity rippled outward in a silent wave. Loose debris lifted into the air. A wrench floated past Rourke's face.
"Vehr!" Seren shouted. "Get inside NOW!"
"Not until the clamps—"
His words cut off as the Hunter lifted an arm.
The deck lurched sideways. Rourke slammed into the pod wall. Seren clutched the frame. The gravitational pull intensified, dragging tools and crates across the floor toward the creature.
Rourke felt the pressure building again—deep, powerful, uncontrollable.
"Not now…" he whispered. "Please, not now…"
The pulse inside him answered—boiling under his ribs.
Vehr nearly lost his footing as a storage crate skidded toward the Hunter. He grabbed a railing, pulling himself upright and slamming his fist into the final release switch.
CLUNK.
The pod hissed free from its clamps.
"Rourke!" Vehr yelled. "Launch it!"
"Get in!"
"There's no time!"
The Hunter raised an arm. Vehr's body lifted inches off the ground as invisible force wrapped around him.
He looked at Rourke—eyes fierce, unwavering.
"GO!"
Rourke grabbed the launch lever.
His heart hammered.
He didn't want to leave Vehr. Not after everything the inspector had done for him. Not with that creature closing in.
But Seren whispered, voice trembling:
"Rourke… if it gets you… the Dominion won't be the ones hunting you anymore."
The Hunter's three lights blazed.
Rourke pulled the lever.
WHOOM—
The pod catapulted outward into the void.
The last thing Rourke saw through the window was the Vigilant Crown shrinking behind them—and the Hunter turning its head, watching the pod streak away, as if memorizing the direction of its prey.