Day 269, Year 986 of the 41st Millennium
Lower Hive
When Eric opened the door and saw Raul's condition, he couldn't help but blurt out in surprise.
"What did you pack in that bag?" Eric said, astonished. Raul was carrying an enormous bag — it didn't look like a hurried escape so much as a household move — and he wasn't even armed. Who travels in a place like this without a weapon?
"There's nothing in that bag but money — holy shit." Raul said, turning and opening the bag to show a huge amount of cash. It wasn't coins; they were checks, each apparently worth as much as one million Calph. From the looks of it, there was no less than three hundred million in there. Maybe Eric should just knock him out and steal it all — given Raul's smug talk, he might deserve it on principle.
"Shut your mouth before I shoot you," Eric said irritably, raising his gun and aiming at Raul. Raul put his hands up, frightened and hurried; Eric realized all over again that he'd never trusted merchants, and in this future world he trusted them even less.
"Stop — we have to get upstairs. The lower levels are no longer safe. At least go do the job, then we can split up," Raul explained. If a contraband merchant like Raul was in a rush to flee, something serious must be happening. If the three-armed mutants Eric had fought on the way home were everywhere, this place would be impossible to stay in. Eric decided to come with Raul, despite his misgivings.
They left the alleyways together. Everything was worse than before: corpses everywhere, fires burning. Eric hurried to Magda's shop and found she was gone. Raul led him to a secret route with a lift.
Moving cautiously along the edges of the street to avoid fights and detection, they suddenly came face to face with a large creature about two meters tall — big head, wide jaw, yellow eyes, black shell with red softer parts. Eric didn't know what it was, but it lunged at him. He raised his gun, aimed for its head, and emptied the magazine.
Most of the rounds pounded uselessly against its thick skin or shell, but one round pierced an eye and the thing collapsed immediately.
"What the hell is that alien? It's disgusting," Eric muttered as he prodded the creature with his foot. It looked like a mix of many things — insect-like in some ways. Raul, overhearing him say "alien," immediately corrected him.
"It's not an 'alien.' It's a xenos. Anything non-human is called a xenos. What does 'alien' even mean?" Raul snapped. Eric thought that in a future forty thousand years from now, people might coin new words like "xenos" instead of "alien" — just an evolution of language.
"'Alien' basically means the same as 'xenos,' Raul," Eric said dismissively. Explaining more would be a waste of time, and talking about the origins of the word wouldn't help now.
"Don't say that in front of the cultists — you could get arrested or executed," Raul warned. Eric thought the warning sounded ridiculous, but in this future anything could happen. They continued on the planned route.
They skirmished occasionally with mutants and with what Raul called Chaos-worshippers — things that seemed somehow connected to the mutants. At one point they met a huge four-armed xenos about two meters tall, with dark carapace and red flesh. It was so tough that Eric had to empty an entire magazine into it before it fell. He kept protecting Raul — who still had no weapon — but at least Raul wasn't a complete liability. When Eric ran out of cartridges, he didn't hesitate to loot a fallen trooper who looked like a household guard from the upper levels. He found a laser rifle and a strange glowing blue pistol. It wasn't a conventional gun that fired bullets.
Once they reached a safer spot, Eric ate and drank. He was still tired and wanted to keep moving, but he was exhausted and wanted to rest for four or five minutes. Raul was impatient.
"Hurry, Erika! If you dawdle we're screwed!" Raul shouted. Eric slapped him once to quiet him. He wasn't trying to be slow to be obstinate — he was just tired; he hadn't slept enough last night, and today had been brutal.
"If you're so eager, go then," Eric snapped, annoyed, drawing the glowing blue pistol and pointing it at Raul. Raul looked terrified — more afraid of that gun than of Eric.
"B-but—" Raul stammered.
Eric heard the pistol humming, the blue glow intensifying and the barrel heating up. He wondered if it would explode.
"Don't pull the trigger, we'll all die!" Raul yelled in panic. Before Eric could decide, something else screamed from the nearby main road — a girl's terrified scream. He hesitated: should he help? Survive first, or risk it to save someone? If he never helped anyone, he'd be no better than the people he despised. After a few seconds, Eric ran toward the sound, ignoring Raul's protests.
When he got close, he saw a scruffy girl of about eleven being chased by three mutants. He raised the newly acquired pistol and fired. The gun discharged a lump of blue energy — Eric didn't know what it was, only that it packed a powerful punch.
Even in the dim street, Eric's aim was good. The blue energy struck one mutant and exploded, instantly removing its upper torso. The other two froze, then Eric fired again — the pistol grew extremely hot and began to whistle like it might blow. Eric threw the pistol at the remaining mutants with all his strength.
The gun detonated, killing the two mutants. Eric didn't wait — he grabbed the girl's wrist and pulled her down a side alley, Raul close behind.
"Quick! Behind the wooden crates!" Eric shouted. The girl obeyed without crying out; she panted as he dragged her into a shadowed corner shielded by trash bins and old pipes.
Behind a large, smelly metal dumpster, Eric crept and readied the laser rifle slung on his back. The girl trembled, breathing fast, eyes wide and distrustful. Raul was still panting.
"You… you're good, right?" her voice shook. In a place where lives were traded for money, the question carried great weight. Eric set the rifle down where he could still reach it, but ready to grab it again. He blinked and tried to keep his voice steady.
"Yes… I'm not one of them," he said slowly. "My name's Erica De La Cruz." The girl stared at him, then whispered her name back.
"Castra… Castra Wald," she said softly, still watching him. Eric offered a tentative, genuine smile.
"Castra… nice to meet you. I won't hurt you. I just came to… help," he said in a gentle voice, trying not to frighten her.
"Why… why are you helping me? Are you going to sell me?" Castra asked, frowning, still distrustful and wary.
"No. I don't have time to sell anyone. I'm running away too, and… I know how it feels when nobody helps. Since I moved here I've hoped, deep down, that I could help someone at least once," Eric answered quietly and clearly, speaking what was in his heart.
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.Day 269, Year 986 of the 41st Millennium
Lower Hive
Castra followed the pretty woman who had saved her. She'd been separated from her parents and felt increasingly uncomfortable as darkness fell. She muttered to herself a little and bit into the stick of corp starch the woman had given her — the taste was the same as her everyday ration.
Everything around her felt terrifying, especially the man walking ahead of them: he wore an eerie cloak, had his face covered, and carried a mysterious bag at all times.
Castra thought it had been safer at her parents' lodging. She remembered overhearing them talking about taking her up in an elevator to another place — perhaps even another world — but she'd been separated from them during the move and had ended up with this pretty woman, who had promised to take her to her parents and the frightening man who accompanied her.
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Eric led Castra along the route Raul had described. Normally he would have moved faster through the dim, familiar alleys, but someone had apparently cut the power and everything had gone dark. He had to use a flashlight. Castra, trembling in the darkness, clung to his pants leg with fear — a pitiful sight he understood. She told him her parents had been left waiting at a large elevator that would take them upstairs. Now Eric couldn't get to that elevator; for the moment he had to follow Raul and hope Castra's parents were still alive. He didn't want the responsibility of a child — he could barely survive himself — but he couldn't bring himself to abandon her.
Finally Raul stopped and motioned Eric to look. Eric could barely see until Raul handed him a night-vision scope. Raul had two night-vision units — and had refused to give one to Eric when the lights went out. Eric wanted to hit him.
"Why didn't you tell me you had night vision from the start?" Eric snapped. Raul only shrugged.
"You never asked," Raul answered flatly. Eric took the device from him, but before he could do more, Castra tugged at his shirt and asked nervously, "Sister Erica, why have we stopped? Is something ahead?"
Her small, high voice trembled like any frightened child's; darkness would do that to her. Eric tried to comfort her.
"I don't know what's ahead, but don't worry — we'll find out soon," he said softly, trying to reassure her. He trained the night-vision toward the place Raul indicated and saw it: the passage was crawling with mutants. No wonder Raul hadn't wanted to go in. Eric shouldered his laser rifle into a firing position — he now understood what Raul planned for him to do — but he couldn't fight while holding the scope. He searched his bag and found a roll of adhesive tape. With a quick, improvised move he taped the night-vision to his laser rifle. It should work…probably.
"Where will Erica go?" Castra asked, clutching his leg out of worry. Eric felt uneasy but placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to soothe her. He knew the child would become a burden, but he could not abandon her.
"I'm not going anywhere — I'm only going out to fight those three-armed mutants. I won't die, so don't worry so much," he said gently, then readied his weapon. He stepped forward slowly, the barrel the first thing to clear the alley's edge, followed by his upper body. He aimed at the first mutant: a bulky one carrying a heavy machine gun, muscles corded and large. More mutants clustered nearby with pistols, shotguns, and rifles. Eric prioritized quickly, took aim at the heavy-gunner, and fired.
The red beam lit the alley for an instant. The heavy-gunner was struck dead; its head was destroyed and the body collapsed. The other mutants, shocked by the sudden death and the flash, turned toward Eric.
He didn't hesitate. He picked off each mutant with precise headshots. Several went down instantly. Some managed to find cover and return fire, but the corner of the wall saved him. Eric ducked back into the alley, rechecked the magazine or power pack on the laser rifle, and reloaded quickly. In his view the laser rifle was excellent — lighter and more powerful than the assault rifle he'd used before, with a high rate of fire and no recoil. Its only drawback was that it was illegal for civilians to possess. That could mean severe punishment if he got caught.
Confident, he popped out and shot the remaining mutants in sequence. Eventually they were all dead or scattered; Eric didn't bother to pursue those who fled.
When the fighting ended he panted and returned to the hiding place where Raul and Castra waited, annoyed at Raul's apparent role: carrying equipment and money and guiding them while doing little else. Eric pulled off his gas mask, wiped sweat, and drank from his canteen. He hoped people would leave this area behind and never return — he'd had enough of living in such conditions. Then—
"Sister, what is that thing behind you?!" Castra cried, clutching Raul's leg. Raul's eyes widened in fear too. When Eric turned he saw something horrific: a towering figure in blue armor reminiscent of an Ultramarine — about 2.3 meters tall — draped with flayed human skin. Its helmet looked like a human skull with bright red lenses, and bat-like wings adorned its helm. In one hand it held the head of a woman who looked as though she had been tortured. Eric tried to raise his rifle and aim at it, but his hands shook. The armored figure watched them, chuckled softly, and spoke in a voice filled with cruel amusement.
"AVE DOMINUS NOX!!! I have come for you!!!"
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Malric sat in the lift, furious. The purge he had been ordered to carry out for the family he served — an operation that should have been straightforward — had collapsed. At first everything went as planned, but the mutants had emerged in force. They were tough; some had dangerous claws and weapons and fought with brutal tactics. Soon the household troops of the Kovax family were destroyed and routed.
There were simply too many mutants, hidden among the crowds. He needed to bring reinforcements to sweep them away — the family's interests were at stake. He would report to his lord; it seemed Zone Z might be crossed off the list of strategic areas for the family.
As he thought, the lift stalled. His men panicked briefly but called for help on the radio. Then a black shape slid out of the lift shaft — a tall silhouette in spiky black armor, all anguish and torture devices.
Malric spun and fired his pistol at the thing, but it was faster than he was. The creature stabbed him in the heart before he could blink. The rest of his men in the lift were slain.
"Stay still, monkey. Victims and slaves have their roles," a Drukhari hissed in a victim's ear and licked the edge of its teeth with sadistic pleasure.
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Writer's note: judging by the armor markings and the mutations and growth of tendrils, if Eric missteps here he won't survive — or his life will become far worse.