The ship touched down with a heavy groan of tortured metal, hydraulic legs buckling slightly beneath its battered frame. Steam hissed angrily from exhaust vents, mixing with Relic's dusty air. The once-pristine craft looked more like a refugee than a spacecraft, its hull streaked with burn marks, punctures hastily patched by Ramm’s desperate ingenuity, and Brinn’s relentless determination.

  Brinn eased his grip on the control yoke, flexing stiff fingers. "We're home," he sighed, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

  "Not sure I'd call it home," Ramm muttered, pulling himself upright from where he’d collapsed on the floor, tangled in loose cables. "Home doesn’t usually involve explosions and mortal danger every few days."

  “Actually, it does for us,” Pepe chirped helpfully. “It’s like our brand.”

  Sai didn’t respond. He was staring out the cockpit window at the sprawling city below, silent and grim.

  Jarek rose slowly from his seat, legs still aching from sprinting through collapsing tunnels. "Come on. Arden needs to know what we found."

  Sai finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "And what we left behind."

  They stepped into streets that felt wrong—familiar yet haunted by something intangible. Faces they passed looked hollow, eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and quiet reverence. Whispers trailed behind them as they walked, voices carrying words like "heroes" and "ghosts."

  Brinn's jaw tightened, discomfort clear in his posture. "They thought we were dead."

  "Well, to be fair," Pepe offered cheerfully, floating above them, "so did I. Several times."

  Jarek paused briefly, meeting the gaze of a rebel guard who snapped to attention, eyes glistening slightly. He returned the gesture with a nod of quiet respect.

  Sai walked apart, cloak pulled tight around him, the city’s somber mood seeping into him like rain soaking through cloth.

  “Is it always going to feel like this?” Ramm whispered. “Like we left pieces behind?”

  “Yes,” Sai answered softly. “It never stops feeling like that.”

  Arden’s location, they quickly learned, had shifted to the tallest building in the city—an obsidian tower whose mirrored surface reflected the distant crater like a dark mirror.

  A guarded lift whisked them upward, through layers of rebel checkpoints. Each guard saluted silently, acknowledging the team's sacrifice with quiet dignity.

  When the lift doors hissed open, Arden stood silhouetted against vast windows overlooking the scarred landscape of Relic. His posture spoke volumes: weary, burdened, but still standing strong.

  “You’re alive,” he said, relief visible in his tired eyes. “I’d hoped—but I wasn’t sure.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  "Neither were we," Jarek admitted, stepping forward. "We barely made it out."

  Arden's expression darkened. "You disappeared a week ago. We thought—everyone thought—"

  "A week?" Ramm's eyes widened. "We were gone a day. At most."

  Arden shook his head slowly, disbelief etched into his features. "We combed every channel, every grid. You just vanished. No trace, no signals."

  Sai’s gaze sharpened, voice quiet but intense. “How did you get everyone out before the explosion?”

  Arden gestured towards the distant crater. "We didn’t. The Weavers started evacuating first. We caught on too late, but we managed to get everyone out. Barely. Then the Black Ring... imploded. Something deep inside collapsed."

  Brinn shifted uneasily. "That was us. We found something-another planet, a vault with ancient tech. We destroyed their base. It must've rippled back here."

  Arden leaned against his desk, processing. "Ancient tech?"

  "Ghosts, psychic shades, ships built to destroy worlds," Pepe listed cheerfully. "The usual."

  Arden’s brow furrowed deeper. “Ships?”

  "Enough to conquer sectors," Sai confirmed darkly. "The Weavers are building something huge. And we only slowed them down."

  Arden listened quietly as they recounted every detail: the battle beneath another world's surface, Veiss’s final warnings, the vault beneath Ashalara, the Weavers’ relentless quest for control. With each revelation, Arden’s expression grew more troubled, his eyes more haunted.

  “They wanted to erase individuality,” Sai explained grimly. “Replace free will with obedience. A galaxy-wide regime.”

  “Veiss called it Harmony,” Jarek added bitterly. “But it’s a prison, built out of fear.”

  Arden exhaled heavily, staring down at his hands. "We've been fighting shadows. We thought we were liberating worlds, but they're still ten steps ahead."

  "Not anymore," Brinn growled, fire flickering briefly around his knuckles. "We exposed their plan. Now we fight them openly."

  Arden straightened slowly, shoulders squaring. "Then we fight smarter. We find their weaknesses. We rally every ally we have. We show the galaxy the cost of silence."

  Silence fell again, tense but unified.

  Then—a tremor, gentle at first, rippled through the room. The distant sound was low, like a pulse from deep below the planet’s crust. Lights flickered. The windowpanes shuddered slightly in their frames.

  Jarek stepped towards the window slowly, senses tingling with dread. "What now?"

  From the distant crater, where the Black Ring once stood, a column of ethereal blue light speared upward—piercing clouds, slicing the sky apart.

  Ramm staggered back, eyes wide. "We… we destroyed it!"

  "No," Sai breathed, shadows curling instinctively around his feet. "We woke something up."

  Pepe's lights flickered uncertainly. "This feels distinctly apocalypse-adjacent."

  The column intensified, blazing like a beacon, a shriek rising from below—inhuman, chilling. The ground beneath their feet shook violently, a deeper quake than before.

  Arden steadied himself against the desk, his voice tight with fear. "What did you leave behind?"

  Sai turned slowly, eyes reflecting the unnatural glow. "Something ancient. Something hungry."

  "Then we need to evacuate," Arden said, already moving towards a console, fingers tapping rapidly. "Everyone, now."

  But before they could move, the beam of light fractured, shattering like glass into six distinct pillars of burning blue energy. Slowly, terrifyingly, figures emerged—massive, dark, wreathed in smoke and ancient power. Six demon lords, each radiating a presence so heavy it pressed upon the very air around them.

  Five rose intact, their massive forms silhouetted sharply against the glowing horizon. Wings unfolded, shadowy and vast. Without hesitation, these five ascended swiftly into the heavens, breaking through the atmosphere like malevolent meteors, disappearing into the void beyond Relic.

  The sixth remained—its form damaged, armor cracked and leaking crimson embers. Its presence twisted the air, raw anger pulsating outward. It roared, a sound like grinding steel and cracking stone, and immediately began tearing into the earth around the crater, devastating everything it touched.

  Arden stared in horror from the window, voice shaking. "They’ve unleashed something we might never contain."

  Jarek stepped forward, face pale but determined. "Then we’d better find a way—fast."