The facility shook again.
The vibration rolled through the walls in a long, low shudder, like the building was struggling to keep itself upright while pieces of it died.
Somewhere behind them, another bulkhead door collapsed under its own weight. The pressure in the corridor shifted, pulling air hard through the vents—air that was now saturated with plague, with rot, with the final exhale of systems that had never been designed to survive a creature like Aerenyx.
A scream rose from a room further down the wing. It tore through the corridor with a sharp, wet pitch, then cut off in the middle of a breath.
Something hit the floor on the other side of the wall—a body, or multiple bodies, or the sound of armor folding around someone who no longer had bones.
Alexei listened to the building die and felt the chill beneath his skin deepen. It wasn't emotion. It wasn't fear or revulsion or anything human.
The cold rose when the environment threatened his pack.
