As everyone poured out of the cave, they could see the silhouette of a massive machine descending toward the third level, and there was something familiar about it. As it came closer, recognition lit up the crew's faces one after another. It was an Orbiton. The Titan had come down to get them.
Oscar could hardly believe his eyes. Somehow, against everything, it had all fallen into place. As the Titan dropped lower and lower, the crew began waving wildly up at it.
Inside the cockpit, Tom stared in awe at the vast sprawl of the Undying Forest spreading out beneath him; he had never imagined it would be so large. Then, through a gap in the trees, he spotted movement — figures waving up at him — and his chest tightened. It was them. The missing crew. Somehow, against all odds, every one of them had ended up in the same place.
When the Titan's enormous feet met the ground, the air itself trembled. Prisoners and crew alike rushed toward it with wide, disbelieving eyes. For most of the prisoners, it was the first time they had ever seen anything like it — a war machine that looked as if it had stepped straight out of the future, which, in a way, it had. It stood more than twenty meters tall, a humanoid figure sculpted from metal and history, its frame scarred with the marks of countless campaigns: scorch marks, impact dents, and black streaks from atmospheric reentry. Narrow conduits ran along its limbs, glowing faintly blue and pulsing in time with the reactor core that beat deep inside its chest. Its head was narrow and angular, with no face, only a black visor slit surrounded by heavy armored ridges that made it look like a silent sentinel. Twin antennae arched from its back like steel wings.
Nolan cupped his hands and shouted up at it. "Hey! Don't leave the cockpit — this place is dangerous! Stay inside!"
Tom leaned out and shouted back. "Alright! I've sent a message to Marek. He'll be here with a shuttle any minute!"
A little further back, Oscar stood beside Tarko, and both of them were staring up at the giant. Tarko let out a low whistle. "So that's a thing from the future?"
Oscar nodded.
Tarko grinned. "God damn. I was born in the wrong age."
Oscar smirked and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Tarko. Once we're out of here, I'll let you sit in it."
"You serious?"
"I'm always serious," Oscar said, and for a moment the two of them laughed like soldiers who had forgotten they were in the middle of a war.
A few minutes later, the low roar of engines filled the canopy, and a shuttle came down through the crack above with its spotlights cutting through the mist. It touched down hard beside the Titan, kicking up leaves and dust. Preston jumped out with a rifle in his hand, shouting over the noise. "Everyone, get in! We don't have much time!"
The forest erupted into chaos. Dozens of prisoners swarmed toward the shuttle, desperate to escape. There was not enough space for them — not nearly enough — and panic spread fast. The crew fought their way through the crowd toward the hatch. All around them people were clinging to the wings and the engine housings with pale, desperate faces. Oscar knew exactly what would happen the moment those engines fired, and there was nothing at all he could do about it. "We can't save them all," he muttered under his breath, and hated himself for saying it.
Within minutes, every member of the Tartarusios' crew was aboard, along with Mahin, Tarko and the old Emperor. Preston did a quick head count and shouted over the roar, "All accounted for!"
The engines screamed to life. As the shuttle lifted off, the people still clinging to its outside fell away — some into the canopy below, and others into the blinding light of the thrusters. It was a cruel fate, but perhaps a better one than being swallowed by the Labyrinth forever.
The shuttle and the Titan climbed together through the thick fog. Above them the Tartarusios was waiting, her hull gleaming in the fading light of Baraka's upper atmosphere. Beyond the ruined outer walls, the battle was still raging. Barrages of energy fire streaked across the sky and broke uselessly against the ship's plasma shields. For all the sheer volume of it, nothing the Empire threw at her even left a mark. With the rescued crew safely aboard, the Tartarusios hurled herself upward, her engines burning white as she tore through the stratosphere toward open space, and for the first time in hours, everyone aboard her could breathe again.
The corridors filled with motion as engineers rushed to their stations and medics tended to the wounded. The crew made their way to the control room — tired and bruised, but alive. When the doors slid open, Youri and Zoma were already waiting.
Youri looked up from the command console with a smirk spreading across his face. "Hey, welcome back. How was the vacation?"
Bjorn let out a dry laugh. "Historic," he said flatly.
Oscar stepped forward. "Come on, we need to move." He rounded on the hologram. "Zoma, do you have any idea what we went through because of what you said?"
Zoma did not flinch, and her voice was calm, almost serene. "Don't worry. It was all for the best possible future."
Oscar frowned. "What the hell does that mean?"
She smiled faintly. "You'll see soon enough."
Before anyone could press her, the radar alarm blared, and red light flooded the bridge. Bjorn's fingers flew across his console. "Captain, contact. Multiple signals incoming."
"How many?" Youri demanded.
Bjorn's voice dropped. "All of them."
Outside, the stars disappeared behind the silhouettes of hundreds of ships forming a blockade around the planet — cruisers, destroyers and carriers, every one of them bearing the golden insignia of the Imperial Throne. The Tartarusios came to a stop in the middle of that silent storm of vessels while targeting locks and magnetic shields shimmered across the void around her.
Then the comms crackled. A transmission forced its way through, and the hologram of Emperor Kaiser the Second appeared on the bridge — tall and regal, his expression as cold as iron. "Crew of the Tartarusios," he began, deep and commanding, "you stand accused of treason against the Throne. You have stolen Imperial prisoners, destroyed Imperial property, and broken into zones beneath Baraka's crust that were sealed for a reason." His gaze shifted slightly, and though his tone stayed calm, it carried the weight of an empire. "I will grant you one chance — not out of mercy, but for the sake of truth. Surrender your vessel and everyone aboard it, and your punishment will be swift and clean. Resist…" He let the silence hang. "…and you will witness the Empire's unyielding will."
The hologram flickered. Behind the Emperor the endless formation of Imperial ships came into view, silent, gleaming, waiting.
On the bridge, no one moved. No one spoke. They all stared out into the void at the Emperor's fleet and the impossible odds against them, and at the truth that this time, there might be no way out at all.