“What?”
Dorian looked up, not understanding.
“Get—” Eisen managed.
That was all he got out.
The Wyatt-shaped monster exploded off the floor and drove a kick into Dorian.
“CLANG!”
Dorian’s small body slammed hard into the steel wall of the canister.
Above, three sets of optics watched in horror.
From the stump of the arm Eisen had just severed, pale, wormlike buds burst out—dozens of them. They twisted together, braided and stretched, and in seconds they formed a new arm.
The monster seized Dorian by the head and lifted it off the deck.
Starling and Minks had never seen anything like it. They stood rooted, minds blank.
Eisen didn’t hesitate. He dove through the opening and threw a Flashcutter in midair.
The monster slipped aside. Eisen lunged to tackle it—missed—
And a massive fist filled his vision.
“CLANG—CLANG—CLANG—”
The monster pinned Eisen under one foot and hammered him, blow after blow. Each punch turned the canister into a bell, booming with every strike.
A gunshot cracked.
Starling had fired. The bullet hit the monster’s back—did nothing.
Her old XG-745 pistol was useless. She fired again and again, and the monster didn’t even bother to dodge.
Minks grabbed her and yanked her back. “It’s not working. Run.”
“You’ve to go. Take Linneya and hide. I’ll hold it.”
Starling’s optics were wide and wild. “How? How are you going to hold it?”
“Don’t ask.” Minks shoved her toward the cryo bay door. “Go!”
Starling stumbled out.
Minks sprinted back to the opening.
The sounds from below had changed. Metal groaned. Sparks sizzled—electric arcs snapping against steel.
Eisen and Dorian were probably already done.
Minks threw his weight into a nearby cryo pod, toppling it onto the opening like a lid.
He fumbled for another one, trying to stack more on top—anything to buy time.
Then the noise stopped.
Minks froze mid-motion. He drew his Stardust Blade—yet still found himself backing away.
“CLANG!”
A 2D Blade punched up through the bottom of the cryo pod… and split it clean in two.
Minks jumped back, terror swallowing whatever courage he had left. He bolted out of the cryo bay and slammed the door controls, locking it.
A heartbeat later, the monster climbed out through the shattered pod.
Its severed arm was fully restored.
So was the left one.
It looked around the empty bay. Then it removed the helmet that mimicked an Exiler’s head and revealed a CBG face beneath.
A low, sick laugh rattled out of it.
“Ahahaha… interesting.”
“A few ants actually played me.”
With one swing of the 2D Blade, it cleaved the bay door open and stepped into the dark corridors beyond.
***
A cramped, sealed cabin.
A single table and chair. A dim lamp. A plate of roasted orange beans.
Linneya sat curled in the corner, wrapped in a blanket, clutching Carlos’s arm to her chest.
She’d been awake for seven hours, but the lingering dizziness and weakness from cryosleep still pressed down on her. She had no appetite at all.
By protocol, she should have been doing light movement to get her blood circulating again.
But Starling had locked her in here and warned her again and again: make no sound, not even a breath, until she came back.
Linneya hated the space. It was barely bigger than a tent. The darkness scared her, the cold made her tremble, and the tight walls and unknown noises left her feeling like she couldn’t breathe.
The only thing keeping her from panicking was the small “animal” beside her.
Her chest felt tight. She pulled her oxygen mask off and took one careful breath—
Immediately she broke into a loud cough.
CLUNK.
Carlos’s arm slipped from her grip and hit the floor, the sound brutally loud in the silence.
Linneya lunged to grab it and forced the oxygen mask back on.
“Chirp,” Pinecone scolded softly.
Linneya looked at him with tired eyes and managed a weak smile.
Pinecone hopped onto her leg, pointed at the door, covered his mouth, and shook his head.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Linneya whispered.
Pinecone nodded, then jumped onto the table. He grabbed an orange bean and held it out to her.
“My head’s spinning,” Linneya whispered back. “I don’t want to eat.”
Pinecone kept holding it there, stubborn.
With a tiny sigh, she took it and bit off a small piece.
“Your name is Pinecone, right?” she asked in the faintest voice.
Pinecone nodded.
“You’re so cute.” Linneya couldn’t help herself; she stroked the top of his head.
“Starling said you came with the rescue team.”
“But… why did you get here first, and he’s not coming for a few more days?”
Pinecone froze. The question clearly wasn’t in his skillset.
“What does he look like?” Linneya asked.
After a second of thought, Pinecone climbed onto the tabletop, hugged a pencil, and sketched a crude shape on the floor.
“A robot?” Linneya guessed. “Is he strong?”
Pinecone nodded again.
The moment Linneya realized he could draw, her curiosity flared despite the fear.
“Starling said there’s a bad person on the ship now,” she whispered. “And you were the one who brought the news back. Have you seen him?”
This time Pinecone thought longer. Then he took an eraser and rubbed out one of the robot’s hands.
Linneya went still.
“Uh… the same person?”
Pinecone shook his head hard, chirping a quick explanation.
“You’re confusing me,” Linneya whispered.
***
The CBG moved through the Sunflower like it was strolling a quiet park.
It had searched for two hours and found nothing. Even as a wreck, the Sunflower was the size of a city.
But it wasn’t worried.
A larger force was on its way.
And the prey couldn’t run. A living human couldn’t survive outside.
There really was a living human somewhere aboard this ship.
Every time the thought surfaced, excitement surged through it.
So that was Hector’s secret—one he’d carried to the grave.
The Tower Clan had gambled everything, bled everything… to save a human girl?
It made no sense.
And yet it was exactly what the CBG needed.
With a living human, its kind could undergo a major upgrade.
With that upgrade, it could crush the rising alien race—and wiping out the Tower Clan would be trivial.
The thought thrilled it more than the development of Wraith Missiles ever had.
It entered a wide, hollow oval hall. From here it could see several levels down into open space.
It threw its voice across the dead air.
“Come out!”
“Starling! Minks! Bring the girl out!”
Its tone turned almost warm, almost reasonable.
“Stop hiding. I’m not Wyatt—but my goal isn’t any different.”
“I’ll give the girl clean water, good food, and breathable oxygen. I can build her a comfortable home. A real home.”
“I swear I won’t hurt her. Trust me.”
“Come out. You’ll find I’m more reliable than Wyatt.”
As it searched, its optics snapped to the lower deck—toward a narrow metal door.
It studied it. The door was slightly warped. And at the crack near the floor…
A thread of light leaked out, unbelievably faint. In the darkness you’d miss it unless you were looking for it.
“Aha.” The CBG’s mouth curled. “Found you.”
It started toward the door.
***
“Do you hear that?” Linneya whispered. “Someone’s… shouting.”
Pinecone nodded—then shook his head, uncertain.
“No, I’m sure.” Linneya pressed her ear to the floor. “Okay. It stopped… but—”
Her breath caught.
“Footsteps.”
At first they were barely there. Then they grew clearer, heavier. And as they drew closer, Linneya’s fear climbed with them.
Pinecone hurried to the lamp and turned it off.
But the footsteps had already stopped outside the door.
Linneya clamped both hands over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
The handle turned.
And in Linneya’s wide, terrified eyes… the door eased open.