I activate the whip, its glow slashing through the darkness like a beacon in the void. The thick night air clings to my skin, heavy with moisture, and a deep chill settles in my bones. This isn’t just another fight—this could be my last stand. My pulse pounds as I glance at Mia. She meets my eyes, nodding once. We can’t afford to lose.


Heat presses against us despite the desert air turning crisp. My breath clouds in the cold as the approaching creatures draw near. The entire desert seems to shift, the sand frosting over into ice.


"Do these things affect the weather?!" Mia exclaims.


"I don't know," I admit.


As they march forward, Mia’s question proves disturbingly valid. Ice forms beneath the feet of these skeletal-coated warriors—grotesque creatures with six arms and two bipedal legs, their movements a chilling fusion of unnatural grace and dreadful inevitability. The clatter of bones echoes in the night, a ghastly symphony accompanying their relentless advance.


"Mia, what could cause that?" I ask.


"Ark Tech," she huffs. "I'm guessing some pre-war experiment got loose when the war happened."


"Oh my god." The words escape me in a breathless murmur.


"Something tells me there’s trouble waiting for us at the Predlym," she mutters, pulling out an unfamiliar gun-shaped device.


She carries so much gear that I never know what I've seen before. The Old World was full of wonders—mystical, terrifying, and far beyond our grasp. What drove them to destroy themselves?


The white-plated creatures are nearly upon us when Mia fires a blue bolt into their midst. I shift my stance, right leg back, crouching like the old-world lions—beasts of wisdom, power, and speed. According to the books we scavenged in Basha, the lion was the king of the animals. But I’d like to think humans still are, even if we’re struggling to survive in this broken world.


The shot strikes one of them. For a moment, silence hangs in the air—then a guttural, inhuman scoff ripples through the crowd. The sound is wrong, a rasping, hollow laughter that scrapes against my nerves like rusted metal. It spreads, an eerie chorus of amusement rolling through their ranks, as if our resistance is nothing more than a cruel joke to them.


Mia's eyes widen in disbelief. "Are they... laughing?"


"Are these like what you heard about?" I ask, but before she can answer, the creatures charge.


They roar—a sound so raw it shudders through my chest. My breath catches. We can't win. But I'll die fighting.


"Mia, if we don’t make it—"


"Etha, don’t. We're gonna be fine," she interrupts, as if savouring the moment. Then she grins, winking at me.


She slides the gun away, replacing it with a pair of strange gloves. She taps her wrists together, and suddenly, her hands ignite, twin orbs of flame licking at her fingers. Fire gauntlets? How?


The spider-like humanoids close the distance. Mia hurls bolts of fire into their ranks, staggering some in the back. I grip the Ark Tech Daybreaker. My whip remains coiled in my left hand as I raise the gun with my right. I squeeze the trigger.


A green pulse surges from the barrel, energy swelling for an instant before discharging in a searing blast. The creatures in its path are hurled away, some vanishing into the distant dark. Mia and I exchange stunned glances.


"That was cool," I say, lining up the next shot.


"Agreed," she breathes, stepping forward to unleash a roaring inferno from her gauntlets.


"That’s also cool!" I shout, firing in the opposite direction to keep them from flanking her.


Confidence surges through me, an intoxicating rush of power and control. We can survive. We can win. The realization steels my resolve, but beneath it lurks an unsettling thought—why couldn’t the Predlym? They had walls, weapons, maybe even stronger technology than us. Yet they still fell. Did they see it coming? Did they fight like we are now, believing they had a chance, only to be swallowed by something far worse? The thrill of battle falters for a fraction of a second as the weight of the unknown settles in my gut.?


I holster the Daybreaker and sprint toward Mia. She hurls fire, forcing the creatures back, their screams rising above the crackling flames. But then something shifts. The creatures adapt.


"Etha! Duck!" Mia shouts.


I drop into the sand as she flings another fireball. A creature howls as it’s struck. I grin and pull a silver disc from my pouch, flicking it toward the nearest enemy. The creature watches it with an amused grunt.


Perfect.


I slide in beside it, whip flashing. Smoke curls where the blade licks its flesh. The stench of burning bones fills my nostrils.


A red glow flares—heat pulses against my skin. Mia stands nearby, face grim, as she fires another bolt at an approaching foe. She sprints toward me.


"Etha, slide to me!" she yells, pulling a red metallic device from her belt.


I spring forward, sliding across the sand. The moment our feet touch, she presses a button. A wide, shimmering purple energy field bursts to life around us. The creatures slam against it, their screeches reverberating through the barrier.


"How are we supposed to kill an army of these?" I pant.


"I don't know, Etha. The shield won’t last forever," she says. "How many of those metal discs do you have?"


I check my pouch. "Twenty-four."


"That’s not many."


"You're telling me."


I rack my brain for a plan, my thoughts racing through everything I know about heat, structure, and survival. Fire and sand make glass. If super-heating the desert could create a hardened surface, could we use that? Could it slow them down? Trap them? My mind seizes on the idea like a drowning man clinging to driftwood. It’s reckless, desperate—but it might be our only chance.


"What if you turn the sand into glass?" I suggest.


"I am not some kind of warlock, Etha."


"You have fire gauntlets. You don’t have to be."


She blinks, then grins. "You’re brilliant. Continue."


The creatures slam against the barrier, their bone-armour sizzling and cracking as they press into the shimmering energy field. The scent of scorched marrow fills the air, their shrieks a twisted harmony of pain and relentless hunger. We don’t have much time.


"Glass our path. We break for the Predlym. There might be something there we can use."


Mia nods. "Even if the Predlym's people died, they had good gear."


"Sounds like a plan?" I ask, gripping the Daybreaker.


The creatures hammer the shield. Then, from the crowd, a massive one steps forward, its towering frame clad in even more white plating than the rest. Its skeletal form looms, its proportions grotesque—an unnatural fusion of man and beast, its six arms twitching with eerie precision. The hollow sockets where eyes should be seem to bore into me, and for a moment, it feels as if death itself has taken form before us.


"How long until it—" I start, but Mia’s face tightens. "I think we should be ready now."


The barrier shatters with an explosive crack, shards of violet energy dispersing like fractured lightning. The force ripples outward, momentarily stunning the creatures before us. A deafening screech erupts from the skeletal horde as they surge forward, their hunger now unrestrained. The night swirls with chaos—bones clatter, the air thickens with the stench of burning marrow, and the battlefield shifts in an instant from defence to sheer, desperate survival.


I fire, my shots blasting through the skeletal masses, sending bone spiders hurtling into the air, their limbs snapping like dry twigs. Mia pivots sharply, twin streams of fire roaring from her gauntlets, illuminating the battlefield in a flickering dance of orange and crimson. The shrieks of burning creatures pierce the night, but then Mia stiffens, her voice cutting through the chaos with a sharp curse.


"It's not hot enough!" she yells.

I fire again, scanning for the big one. "Where’d the big guy go?!"


"I don’t know!"


That’s the last thing I want to hear. My stomach tightens, dread coiling in my gut like a snake ready to strike. If we don’t know where it is, then it knows exactly where we are. The thought claws at my mind, an unshakable fear that we’re being watched, hunted. What if it’s waiting for the perfect moment to strike? What if this was its plan all along?


The Predlym’s deep grey walls loom ahead, rising like a beacon of salvation against the desolate night. Relief floods me—we're close. Hope surges in my chest, a fleeting but intoxicating reassurance that we might just make it. But then doubt gnaws at the edges of that feeling. The Predlym was supposed to be strong, impenetrable, yet it fell. Why? What could have torn through its defences? And more pressingly—how smart is that leader? Is it watching, waiting, anticipating our every move?


"Etha, c'mon!" Mia yells. She’s holding the door to the metal structure open.


I sprint inside, heart pounding. The door slams shut behind me, its echoing boom rolling through the metal corridors like the final toll of a funeral bell.


"Woah..." I exhale, eyes widening as my gaze sweeps over the interior.


Rows of reinforced steel panels line the walls, etched with battle-worn scars and rusted seams. Overhead, thick cables twist like veins, pulsing with dim amber lights. The scent of old oil and metal fills the air, mingling with the faint trace of burnt ozone. Weapons racks are bolted into the bulkheads, some empty, others still bristling with arcane-looking firearms and blades. The floor is lined with grated steel, revealing glimpses of machinery humming beneath. This isn’t just a blimp—it’s a fortress in the sky, built for war, built to last. And yet, something about it feels... abandoned.


Mia grins, hands on her hips. "It’s amazing, right?"