Weiss moved silently through the cosmodrome ruins, the broken silhouettes of old colony structures jutting out of the snow-bitten plains. The sky was a dull, iron gray—flat and heavy, the sort that swallowed sound and made every footstep feel too loud.
Guilty Spark floated beside her, bobbing cheerfully. "Skywatch ahead, Guardian! Oh, I do hope their interior decoration has improved since the last millennium. It was dreadfully bleak."
Weiss tightened her grip on her Arc-spear, its haft humming with static. "Focus, Spark. If the Fallen are locking this place down, we need to know why."
"Yes, yes, of course. Objective—first, amusement—second! Though in my defense, amusement keeps one's circuits warm."
They reached the old access ramp beneath Skywatch—a long corridor half-collapsed, faint blue wires dangling from the ceiling like exposed nerves. Fallen sensor beacons glowed red in the gloom.
Weiss crouched. "Trip mines. They're sealing the area."
Spark drifted forward, scanning. "Oh my! They've upgraded their perilous glowing lines of doom. Quite industrious. Shall I disable them?"
"No," Weiss exhaled, sparks flickering across her fingertips. "I need the practice."
She flicked her hand—Arc energy snapped outward in a precise burst, detonating the first mine while simultaneously shorting the others. The chain of explosions lit the hallway in white-blue light for a split second.
Spark whirled excitedly. "Guardian! Such efficiency! I knew resurrecting you would pay dividends."
Weiss ignored the praise and slipped deeper into Skywatch.
Inside the Hub
The entrance chamber was dark except for flickering screens and clusters of Fallen crates. Echoing metallic clatters reverberated from above—shanks patrolling.
Weiss pointed upward. "Shanks first, quietly."
Spark blinked. "My dear, we are walking into a fortified den of scavengers armed with unstable plasma weaponry. Quiet is already a lost cause."
As if on cue, a shank dipped down to investigate a loose wire, spotted Weiss, and shrieked.
Weiss threw her spear. It pierced the machine midair and pinned it to a wall before bursting with electrical discharge. Three more shanks swooped in from the rafters—she dashed forward, Arc light trailing from her palms. She used the Light to boost her jump and yanked her spear from the wall, sweeping it upward in a crackling arc that sliced through the drones.
The last one exploded in a shower of sparks.
"Marvelous! You're getting quite good at this 'murder by lightning' hobby," Spark chimed.
"Not a hobby," Weiss muttered. But she felt a small, almost reluctant smile.
The Fallen Response
They pushed into the main Skywatch chamber—the ceiling high, the old colony architecture covered in makeshift Fallen metalwork. Vandals perched on the upper scaffolding. Dregs and Captains patrolled the open floor.
And in the center, a large Ketch device powered by unfamiliar violet circuitry crackled ominously.
Weiss narrowed her eyes. "I don't think that's supposed to be here."
"Indeed. A signal amplifier of some sort. Or a bomb. Or a horrifying combination of both!"
A Fallen Captain spotted them and roared, raising its shock blade.
The entire room erupted into motion.
Weiss surged forward, Arc energy flaring around her legs. She slid between crates, avoiding fire, then leaped—her spear whirling overhead before she brought it down on a Vandal, dropping it instantly. Another lunged; she parried, redirected its momentum, and struck with a crackling thrust.
Above her, fallen shouts echoed as more poured from side corridors.
Spark phased into subspace and commented on the battle in her head. "Yes, yes, take the left flank! Oh, my—watch the shrapnel! And do try not to die before lunch. I've only just finished tuning your Light pathways."
Weiss vaulted up onto a platform, sending a burst of Arc power across the railing that knocked several vandals tumbling to the floor below.
Finally, only the Captain remained and it charged, blade raised.
Weiss planted her spear, channeled, and unleashed a focused Arc jolt that struck the Captain square in the chest and held it in place long enough for a finishing throw. The spear tore through its neck, stabbing into the wall behind it as the Captain collapsed.
She steadied her breathing and let out a satisfied hum.
The Device
Spark floated above the violet machine. "Now then, let's see what our little scavenger friends were hiding… oh my. Oh, dear. Oh, wonderful."
"What is it?"
"They were attempting to hijack an old Warmind distress channel… to lure something here."
Weiss stiffened. "Something like what?"
Spark pulsed a soft blue. "Guardian… they were calling a Hive war party."
Weiss's grip tightened on her spear. "Then we stop it."
"A splendid plan! I'll begin a counter-override. Do keep the murderous leftovers off me, won't you?"
Weiss turned as distant chittering echoed from deeper in Skywatch.
The chittering grew louder—scraping, irregular, wrong in a way that made even the stale Cosmodrome air feel colder. Weiss stepped back from the amplifier, drawing her hand cannon, and sending her spear away to subspace.
Spark hovered above the device, busy unlocking it. "Ah, yes, the Hive! Charming neighbors. Terrifying, necrotic, screaming neighbors, but still!"
Weiss swallowed, steadying her breathing. Hive. The word itself resonated with something ancient, something heavy with malice.
A shape emerged from the far hallway—gaunt, twisted, hunched. Its skin was bone-pale, its eyes glowing sickly green. It moved with a jerky, insectlike gait, talons clicking against the floor.
Weiss froze.
That is not Fallen. That is not Human. That is…
Another Hive Thrall darted out behind it. Then another. And another.
Spark chimed cheerfully. "Oh good! They brought friends. Do mind the claws—quite sharp and regrettably infectious."
Weiss lifted the hand cannon with both hands. The first Thrall screeched and rushed her, she fired.
The recoil slammed her wrist back—far stronger than she expected—but the round blasted a hole through the Thrall's torso, sending it tumbling. Before she could breathe, two more sprinted at her, bodies impossibly fast.
She fired again—missed—then adjusted, inhaled, and placed her shots deliberately.
Bang. A Thrall's head burst into mist. Bang. Another tumbled to the floor, limbs twitching.
Weiss's heartbeat spiked, but her hands steadied. They're fast, unpredictable. Not like Fallen, They don't even hesitate… they just attack.
More skittering. A wave of Thralls poured from the side passage.
Weiss holstered her hand cannon, summoned her Arc spear, and struck the ground—static rippled outward, staggering the rush. She immediately swapped back to her hand cannon, firing controlled shots through stunned bodies.
She didn't blink or hesitate as she eliminated them. But inside, she felt something cold.
This is different. These things… they feel wrong. Like they're alive and dead at the same time.
A piercing shriek echoed—higher, sharper.
An Acolyte stepped forward from the darkness, holding a jagged Hive rifle. Its eyes locked on her and it raised its weapon.
Weiss dove behind a crate as green fire slammed into the metal, burning smoking holes through it.
"Do be careful! Hive projectiles do love to make holes inorganics!" Spark sang.
Weiss leaned out—Bang—shot the Acolyte's shoulder; it snarled, returning fire. She rolled to the next crate, lifted the weapon, shot again.
Bang.
The Acolyte staggered.
Bang.
It collapsed.
Her ears rang. Her hands shook—not from fear, exactly. More from adrenaline mixing with an uneasy disgust.
This is my first time seeing them… no one told me they'd feel so… hateful.
Spark hummed—a soft, mechanical trill that echoed faintly off the rusted Cosmodrome walls—as his optic glowed in steady pulses. He was deep in the process of dismantling the Fallen jamming device, pulling it apart component by component with impossibly precise beams of Light.
"Ah, such crude craftsmanship. Wires exposed, plating uneven… positively barbaric! But the energy cells are fascinatingly explosive, so do try not to jostle anything."
Weiss only half listened.
She was kneeling beside a downed Fallen Captain, prying its shock blades apart with careful, methodical movements.
She studied the alien tech in her hands. Fallen craftsmanship was jagged, improvised, but purposeful. Metal wrapped around metal in strange layers, etched with symbols that she couldn't decipher.
"Spark?" she asked quietly, examining a broken shrapnel cannon barrel. "These materials… they're not like the ones I've been finding before."
"Naturally! Fallen weaponry is a delightful patchwork of scavenged alloys and stolen energy sources. Quite unstable. Definitely dangerous. Absolutely perfect for scrapping." He paused, emitting a pleased chirp. "Bring anything valuable! I do so enjoy watching Banshee sigh about Fallen parts."
Weiss continued her scavenging.
She flipped over a Vandal, analyzing its wire rifle. The barrel had cracked during the fight, but the inner conductor—glowing faintly with residual Arc energy—was intact. She carefully disconnected it. A spark of blue danced across her fingertips.
I can use these. For repairs and to enhance my gear. And maybe something else?
She wasn't sure. But collecting them gave her purpose, something tangible to focus on after the unsettling encounter with the Hive.
Near the entrance, she found a collapsed Shank. Its plating was dented, but the micro-rotors inside were salvageable. She extracted them with her spear's blade, sliding them into a small satchel she'd brought for materials.
"Not bad," she murmured to herself. "If I can gather enough of these, maybe Banshee will agree to work on a better magazine housing for my hand cannon."
"Oh! A modification project? Splendid! And far safer than letting you explode inside Fallen ruins, which seems to be a recurring trend." Spark drifted closer as he finished rewiring the Fallen device. "Speaking of which—ta-da! The jamming module is fully disabled and partially disassembled. Or… mostly disassembled. I may have vaporized one too many components."
He looked proud of that.
Weiss wiped dust from her armor while standing up and checked her satchel. Fallen plating shards, Wire rifle conductors and intact servos. A few energy couplings she wasn't sure she could use, but she'd take them anyway.
She walked back toward Spark. "So… did you get anything useful from that device?"
"Oh yes! Several fragments of encrypted Fallen signaling patterns… and a residue of Hive interference! Highly concerning and very exciting. A perfect combination." He bobbed. "The Vanguard will want to hear about this immediately. Preferably before another ritualistic terror-swarm crawls up from beneath us."
Weiss nodded, suppressing a shiver at the memory.
"Then we should go."
She glanced around the dim chamber one last time—Fallen weapons scattered, Hive ash still clinging to the air—and tightened her grip on the strap of her satchel.
Spark zipped ahead toward the exit. "Onward, my intrepid Guardian! Let us leave before the Fallen realize they've been robbed, dismantled, and insulted all in one afternoon."
Weiss didn't answer.
Her thoughts still lingered on the Thralls' empty eyes, the way they moved, the way they didn't stop, even when injured.
She gathered herself and squared her shoulders. "Let's report to the Vanguard."
Together, they stepped back into the cold Cosmodrome light journeying back to the Tower.