Air inside the underground base seemed frozen solid.
Alarms rose and fell, harsh red lights continuously flashing, reflecting on soldiers' terrified faces.
Narrow corridors filled with gunpowder and burned plastic scents, mixed with bloody odors, making each breath seem to scorch lungs.
EDF soldiers' earpieces filled with static, command voices intermittent like drowning gasps, soon disappearing completely.
Communications cut, local networks disrupted—they were isolated and helpless.
More terrifying, enemies came not only externally—traitors hidden among them began revealing true faces, gunshots from behind, sudden cold shots made their mutual trust instantly collapse.
"Damn it! They've infiltrated!"
A corporal's furious roar grew hoarse from explosions. He'd just pulled up a comrade when seeing the other suddenly turn his gun barrel, pulling the trigger on him.
Between fire flashes, blood mist sprayed—the corporal's body convulsed violently and fell.
This moment of facing betrayal's fear was more lethal than enemy frontal charges.
Corridor soldiers began looking around, eyes full of suspicion and panic.
Some stared at whether comrades' fingers were on triggers, others constantly retreated, seemingly ready to fire at nearest comrades anytime.
Boom—!
Violent explosions came from entrance directions—alloy gates blasted open massive breaches in flames and shockwaves, fragments scattering everywhere.
Following closely, ranks of armed followers surged in like tides.
They wore heavy power armor painted with symbolic black runes—even wearing helmets, their gazes obviously flickered with madness.
Light flows from pulse rifles turned narrow corridors infernal.
Gunfire suddenly erupted—flames, bullet rain, blood mist instantly interweaving into hellish scenes.
EDF soldiers desperately resisted yet appeared fragile.
Their firepower was quickly suppressed amid chaos, while those long-lurking follower spies supplemented cold shots from behind at critical moments, making already precarious defense lines completely collapse.
"Don't fire! We surrender!"
Someone dropped weapons, raising hands, voice full of despair.
Yet what responded were gunfire tearing through air with shrieks.
Armed militants had already killed with bloodshot eyes—mad prayers mixed with gunfire sounds like death hymns.
They didn't care whether soldiers before them raised hands—slaughter had become their sacrifice method to "deities."
Corridor floors were dyed red with blood, mutilated limbs scattered beside explosion-blackened walls, air filled with screams, roars, and prayers interwoven madness.
Soon, resistance fire points were extinguished one by one, underground defense lines completely collapsing.
Security isolation door defense programs, under continuous intrusion and blast impacts, emitted harsh metallic grinding, finally slowly opening.
Heavy doors slid open like coffin lids—secrets hidden deepest finally exposed before these fanatics' eyes.
That was a giant research hall—under cold light, the platform's center quietly held that relic that rewrote countless Dead Space histories—
The original Marker.
Its surface was covered with deep complex cracks like eternal runes, seemingly constantly writhing.
Black radiance seeped from crevices, sometimes jumping, sometimes pulsing, as if breathing with life.
Air produced visible distortions under its presence, deep humming echoing like heartbeats in everyone's ears.
"O God..."
A follower removed his helmet, kneeling on the ground, tears and saliva mixing on his face, voice trembling yet carrying undisguised wild joy.
"Lead us... to convergence and transcendence..."
As first prayers rang out, more followers began swarming forward, kneeling around the Marker, madly kowtowing, raising hands high like seeing supreme sacred relics.
Their eyes were filled with pathological fervor—at this moment, even death no longer frightened them.
Researchers in corners were terrified, huddling with heads covered, fearing any sound would attract attention.
Watching these followers' mad actions, their hearts held only fear.
Because they understood better than anyone—this Marker wasn't some sacred relic granting transcendence but an extremely dangerous alien artifact.
Energy wavelengths it emitted would constantly distort human minds, causing people to fall into hallucinations and madness.
So-called "transcendence" was merely another expression of self-destruction.
However, leadership weren't ignorant—they dispatched private military forces raiding here not for simple "pilgrimage" but to create leverage capable of changing situations within the remaining window period.
The original Marker's released energy wavelengths were extremely special—over two hundred years ago, Earth Federation had attempted analyzing its patterns and transforming them into usable energy.
But simultaneously, they also understood Marker energy brought serious side effects, thus research progress was slow and cautious.
Leadership had completely different ideas.
In their conception, Marker-emitted energy could be completely weaponized, becoming blades opposing "Imperial Martial."
As long as they could transform the Marker into forced mental interference or energy pulses, they could strike Imperial Martial fleets, even creating chaos and casualties in near-earth orbit.
That way, Earth Federation would be forced to war with the Empire, with no retreat.
This was their ultimate purpose.
They understood better than anyone—once Federation chose surrender at the forty-eight-hour deadline's final moment, their existence would completely lose meaning.
They would not only be abandoned by Federation but completely eliminated by the Human Empire. Only by forcing Federation onto paths confronting the Empire could they continue existing, obtaining survival chances amid chaos.
Now, this raid's success meant they'd already grasped the only opportunity.
Entire underground research facility alarms rose and fell, yet no one could timely stop them.
Some remaining EDF soldiers lay in blood pools, researchers huddled trembling in corners, fanatical followers murmured prayers before the Marker.
Their armor reflected eerie radiance—those runes and Marker patterns seemed to resonate at certain frequencies, air permeated with unsettling tremors.
"O divinity, with your power, destroy those false authorities."
A follower leader hoarsely shouted, hands raised high, voice echoing through the hall.
As his words fell, more followers emitted scream-like shouts—the entire research hall seemed plunged into mad carnival.
They hadn't noticed that deep within the Marker's surface, that dark radiance was growing increasingly blazing like slumbering beasts being awakened.
All this was merely the beginning...
Meanwhile, above the Yucatan Peninsula, storm clouds still rolled, thunder rumbling distantly and deeply.
In jungle depths, air was humid and oppressive, even breathing carrying heavy suppression.
A tactical reconnaissance squad of six Imperial Martial warriors quietly lurked in dense forests less than two kilometers from the research base.
Heavy Terminator armor externally resembled steel fortresses, yet at this moment were perfectly concealed by optical camouflage coatings and refraction systems, blending into surrounding environments.
Unless extremely close, almost no one could detect their presence.
Though Imperial Martial infiltration skills didn't reach "cousin" Raven Guard extremes, nor match Ghost Agents or Investigation Department special operations groups in silently infiltrating building interiors, for surveillance, observation, and immediate responses to emergencies, they remained impeccable executors.
Discipline and coldness constructed these six's entire existence.
Since hours ago, they'd ambushed here.
Before armed followers raided, squad sensors had already captured abnormal frequency interference and energy fluctuations. They keenly sensed Federation-controlled situations spiraling out of control, yet since they hadn't received "free fire authority" authorization, their duties had only one item:
Continuous monitoring and reporting upward.
Silence became their common creed.
No idle chat, no questions—even breathing sounds suppressed beneath heavy helmets.
Soon, the squad leader captured even more abnormal intelligence.
Tactical interfaces inside helmets flashed warnings—energy wavelength curves suddenly soared, almost presenting out-of-control trends.
The captain frowned, immediately calling comparison databases. Seconds later, conclusions appeared in his vision, indicating these wavelengths were extremely similar to the Red Marker from Ishimura incident.
What that meant was self-evident.
He didn't hesitate a moment, immediately reporting intelligence, wording cold: "Report, extremely high risk exists here—highly likely similar 'necromorph outbreak' as Ishimura could occur. Situation critical—requesting immediate intervention or evacuation orders."
After several breaths, brief replies came through earphones: "Received. Maintain standby. Small transport formations are heading to surface to retrieve you, then return to fleet. Avoid firefights with any surface forces."
"Understood." The captain responded coldly, tone carrying no fluctuation.
Just as they re-established ambush—
Boom... Rumble rumble—————!!!
Sudden tremors swept the earth like ancient beasts turning in underground depths.
Bird flocks deep in dense forests panicked into flight—dark masses obscuring gray skies—while underfoot earth violently trembled, soil shattered, tree root systems twisted and snapped as if the entire world was震撼 torn apart.
Reconnaissance squad members immediately stabilized postures, power armor stabilization systems accordingly activating, firmly "nailing them" to muddy ground.
Simultaneously, their gazes fell uniformly toward base directions—
Only to see base overhead surface suddenly bulge, then thunderously collapse!
That was a scene like volcanic eruption, yet not magma but buildings and earth itself being overturned from inside out.
Massive rubble, steel reinforcement, and soil shot into mid-air, becoming deadly shrapnel flying horizontally. Immediately after, terrifyingly extreme suction erupted from deep within collapsed breaches.
Countless corpses, broken armor, even still-screaming armed followers were forcibly dragged by that suction, struggling as they flew toward pitch-black abysses.
Even tall jungle trees were uprooted, swept into that gradually expanding collapse mouth.
Screams, roars, prayers mixed together—scenes were extremely chaotic.
Some followers panicked, desperately grasping ground or wreckage, hoarsely shouting:
"This... this is punishment!"
Others showed wild joy, eyes bloodshot, shouting:
"This is transcendence's sign! We shall be accepted by divinity!"
They rose into air under suction's pull, falling like moths to flame into that pitch-black bottomless abyss.
At jungle edges, six Imperial Martial warriors quietly observed everything—even with such bizarre scenes before their eyes, their mental states remained unwavering.
Remaining calm under danger wasn't merely training results but their instinct as Imperial Martial.
However, just as everything was sucked into collapse mouths, ground suddenly burst with even more horrifying movements.
Roar—!!!
An ear-splitting roar like thunder tearing heaven and earth trembled the entire jungle.
Deep within collapse mouths, a rotten, scorching airflow suddenly gushed forth. Following was a writhing massive tumor of flesh.
It resembled an unformed flesh mountain range, slowly emerging from underground, its surface covered with twisted sinews and protruding bone spikes, plasma-like liquids gurgling from cracks, dripping on ground, instantly corroding large scorched traces.
On the tumor, human-shaped residual limbs and twisted faces were vaguely visible—among those faces, some were precisely followers and EDF soldiers previously sucked in.
Their eyes still opened, mouths silently opening and closing as if souls trapped within, never to be freed.
"Confirm target." The captain spoke grimly.
Tactical interfaces immediately transmitted tumor morphology data to fleet.
Energy fluctuation indices mixed in signals had completely breached warning critical values, highly matching "necromorph" characteristics triggered by Red Markers.
Six Imperial Martial warriors didn't immediately draw guns—they understood their mission—
Observe, confirm, report.
Discipline was more important than life, and unauthorized "free fire" in Imperial codes equaled disobeying orders—unless absolutely necessary circumstances, they wouldn't act proactively.
However, they still instinctively adjusted postures, weapons in hand ready to activate anytime, frames like steel statues poised to strike.
Jungle depths' atmosphere suddenly solidified, only those roars and writhing sounds震撼 heaven and earth.
Giant flesh tumors continued surging outward, covering collapsed bases like monsters breaking from shells.
Its flesh constantly writhed, seemingly gestating more horrific forms, while those not-yet-dead followers twisted and struggled on its surface and between cracks, emitting half-human half-beast agonized howls.
Fanatical prayers finally transformed into desperate wails.
Imperial Martial helmet sensors continuously captured new energy fluctuations, values climbing exponentially. Entire Yucatan Peninsula energy images were being distorted by that force at visible speeds.
"Report, target has breached surface, scale continuing expansion, estimated necromorph aggregation 'Brethren Moon' is generating." The captain continued reporting.
Brief responses came through earphones: "Confirmed. Continue maintaining standby. If emergencies arise, may open fire freely."
The instant responses ended, six Imperial Martial warriors fell silent again.
They had no fear, no hesitation—only staring fixedly at distant monsters—
That beast gestated by madness and death, raising its indescribable flesh frame, emitting heaven-earth tearing roars.
The curtain on "darkness" had risen.
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/Mutter
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.