The Breach
Deep beneath the scorched surface of Akaris V, in the obsidian-lined war chamber of the Mahasimu command citadel, General Kizito loomed over a massive tactical table. The Uli system pulsed in projection—its planetary orbits traced in red light, its outer sectors shrouded in darkness. Across it, Shadowscourge deployments flickered, like venom coiling through the stars.
Vice-General Tano's voice broke the silence. "General. Unauthorized launch—Quadrant Delta. Coordinates place it near Vault Access Point Nineteen."
Kizito's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
The screen split. A stealth-configured vessel breached the canyon floor, its hull shimmering with signature-cancellation plating. Familiar curves. Zelith engineering.
"Possibly Thalor," Admiral Kia confirmed as she approached. "Definitely not ours."
Kizito didn't speak. He simply exhaled—like a blade leaving its sheath.
"Recall planetary fleet command," he said. "I'll handle this from the Virex Dominatus. Ready my departure."
II. Ascension to Power
Magnetic locks disengaged with a thunderous clang as Kizito and his honor guard ascended through the citadel's shadowsteel core. Above, a fortress hangar opened to the storm-raked skies of Akaris.
Awaiting him: a black fang of a shuttle, traced in crimson veins, bearing the sigil of the Shadowscourge elite.
With a shudder, the shuttle lifted vertically, cloaked in gravitic shielding as it cut through the ash-clouded heavens.
In orbit, the Virex Dominatus drifted like a silent predator. A dreadnought without peer, its hull bristled with psionic disruptors, temporal warheads, and graviton cleavers. It was Kizito's temple of war—his judgment made manifest.
The shuttle docked. As Kizito stepped onto the bridge, the lights dimmed, and every officer fell to one knee.
"Status," he barked.
"Target launched seven minutes ago," Kia reported. "Climbing fast."
"Intercept. Disable only. I want them alive."
III. The Wounded Veil
The Veilborn tore skyward, trailing smoke and volatile ion wakes. Within, the infiltration team wrestled with failing controls. Serath Vahn slammed diagnostics against the mainframe.
"They're locking on!" Zhenira called, eyes wide.
On the Dominatus, Kizito leaned forward.
"Fire disruptors. Aim for the engines."
Twin lances of crimson light knifed through space. They struck home—burning into the Veilborn's rear thrusters. The warp core flickered, then bucked.
"They clipped us!" Serath yelled. "Warp guidance is destabilizing!"
"We have one shot," Kael Rix growled. "Punch it! I won't die in a Mahasimu cell."
Serath slammed the activation rune. The warp core flared in chaotic brilliance—an uncontrolled jump. The Veilborn vanished into fractured space, streaking into the unknown.
Somewhere deep in the Uli system, they were lost.
But not safe.
IV. The Hunt Begins
Silence returned to the Dominatus.
"They escaped," Tano said bitterly. "But they're wounded."
Kizito stared at the flickering trajectory. "Where did they go?"
"Unclear," Kia admitted. "Warp pattern was erratic. The drive malfunctioned mid-jump. But it couldn't have taken them far."
Tano brought up system charts. "Best estimates put them somewhere between the Verdant Hollows and the Tey'var Drift. Maybe the ghost moons near Zharil's Wake."
"Send fast-runners," Kizito commanded. "Deploy recon drones across the perimeter."
He turned to Kia.
"And if they slip past that net… find them anyway. I don't care what it takes."
Kia bowed. "Yes, General."
"If they vanish," Kizito whispered, voice like falling stone, "I'll hang your spine beside theirs."
V. Dark Thrones on Gharar
Light-years away, the Giza Mtuji pierced the upper clouds of Gharar, descending like a spear through blood-poisoned skies.
The world below was madness made solid—ash-spires rising from oceans of bone, black mountains wrapped in chains, and the screams of the damned echoing through cyclopean chasms.
Queen Suama stood at the fore of her royal dreadnought, her mantle billowing as lightning rippled across her silhouette. Around her, the Royal Guard stood silent: Roko, Jalia, Omari, and Amani—loyal, lethal, and unflinching.
At the citadel gates, Overseer Xal'taroth bowed low, his bone-plate armor creaking. Flanking him were the servitors of the Flesh Re-Forge—half-machine, half-flayed nightmare.
"Your presence blackens this world with honor, my Queen," he rasped.
"Take me to the traitors."
In the cell-depths below, Thalia curled in the corner of a soul-prison, mind fracturing as psionic echoes looped her confessions, her betrayals, her screams.
Elsewhere, Princess Safi stood bound in a containment spire, her golden eyes burning with defiance.
Suama entered. The lights dimmed. A fire ignited—holo-flame forming into a spectral figure: the Ancient Queen, Suama's predecessor, long-entombed in the Throne-Mind.
"Safi," she whispered, voice like cracked obsidian. "Your betrayal stains our bloodline."
Safi didn't flinch. "Then end me."
"You'll wish I had," the Ancient Queen replied.
The flames burned blue.
And the lesson began.
VI. Silent Ruin in Motion
Back in orbit above Akaris V, the Dominatus adjusted formation, its weapons shifting into siege stance. Mahasimu dreadnoughts across the system stirred in kind, bracing for deployment.
In the catacombs below, the Shadowscourge legions knelt in assembly, chanting war-prayers in the tongue of extinction.
No one knew the spark had already lit.
The Veilborn was gone damaged, bleeding warp residue, trailing memory ghosts across the void.
Somewhere in the system, a whisper of rebellion had escaped.
Wounded. Wild.
And hunted.