The silence that settled after the Umbral Scythe Dragon's collapse was absolute, broken only by the crackle of residual Umbral energy and the soft whir of Herja's scanning suite.
"Incredible, Ash. That creature was drawing its power directly from the environmental Orgone crystals," Herja confirmed, the awe still present in her tone. "It's an anomaly. Focus on the core—that is where the true power of the apex beast resides."
I strode toward the massive, cooling corpse. The Umbral Scythe Dragon was a geological event in death. The air around its body was still heavy with a crushing cold. I raised the Dahkra Rod, now Tier 2, and activated the 'scavenger protocol.' Pink energy pulsed from the Rod, tracing the lines of the dead beast's immense structure, quickly harvesting the common components: dense scales, bone struts, and metallic sinew. These vanished in brief flashes of light, safely stowed in the dimensional pocket of my Satchel Ring.
But I wasn't after scrap.
I climbed onto the dragon's remaning cadaver, the obsidian-like scales rough beneath my beast feet. Where its chest had been, the bone plating was scorched and cracked from the final surges of Umbral energy. I plunged my alloy talons in, not to siphon, but to locate the anchor of its life-force. After a moment of careful probing, my clawed hand found purchase. I exerted pressure, and with a sickening crunch of ruptured bone, I tore loose the prize.
It was the Umbral Dragon Core—a massive, fist-sized crystal that pulsated with a deep, malevolent purple light, the essence of the Shadow Dragon itself. It radiated a cold, focused power, far more potent than the general Orgone crystals in the ceiling. I quickly secured the core, along with a few handfuls of crystallized blood samples, into the Satchel Ring.
"Core secured," I reported, wiping my brow. "And a substantial salvage haul. Herja, status report on the environment and the path forward."
Herja's voice was sharp with urgency. "The structural integrity of this chamber is rapidly degrading without the Dragon's stabilizing presence. You cannot stay here. Furthermore, I am detecting a massive energy surge from the remaining environmental Orgone crystals. They are destabilizing and will soon detonate."
I glanced at the two colossal, pulsing crystals high in the ceiling. They were turning a sickly, unstable yellow. A localized energy collapse was imminent.
"New objective: Immediate Egress from Gamma-7. The run is concluded. We need to get out of this biome now before we're caught in the blast, not to mention respawning our team back at the save crystal."
I didn't hesitate. The thought of losing the Umbral Dragon Core and all my essences to a localized energy collapse was a sickening prospect.
"Herja, calculate the fastest route to the last anchor point," I ordered, already sprinting for the exit tunnel, the colossal chamber of the Umbral Scythe Dragon echoing with the escalating hum of the destabilizing Orgone crystals. "We gotta get back to the Save Crystal."
The journey was a blur of high-agility movement. I shot through the tunnel that led to the Sylphira's ozonic chamber, past the remnants of the Sphinxara encounter, and finally back into the fetid, familiar darkness of the main Gamma-7 thoroughfare.
The spot where I had created the anchor came into view. The pink octahedron of the Save Crystal was still hovering mid-air, its soft glow suddenly becoming vital. But as I approached, it didn't look pink anymore. The crystal was shimmering silver.
Just as I got within arm's reach, Herja's voice—a mix of mechanical efficiency and triumph—rang in my ear.
"Beginning Respawn Sequence."
The crystal flared blindingly bright. It was no longer just an anchor; it was a fabrication engine. Silver tendrils of raw flesh exploded outward from the crystal's core. They didn't dissipate; instead, they converged rapidly just feet from me, condensing into the data of my squad.
The tendrils solidified into skeletal structures, then layered with muscle and sinew, growing skin, until, in a burst of final light, they were whole.
"WOOHOOO! You guys made it!" I shouted. I took a deep, steadying breath, the adrenaline from the run back finally receding as my team materialized before me. The moment was too monumental for silence.
"You three," I said, a faint smile touching my lips. "You owe the Save Crystal a commendation. That was a high-speed, three-unit sacrifice for the ages. You saw the Umbral Scythe Dragon's final counter. It ate you for breakfast."
Koba rubbed the back of his massive armored neck, his deep voice rumbling. "Yeah, well, I went out protecting the squishies, didn't I? Next time, I just need a slightly thicker shell plating to stand up to that kind of torque. Good to be back, Ash. Glad you didn't leave us to walk back to Sector 4."
Mothman finished his rapid check of his Xun'Dral unit, his Australian brogue as crisp as ever. "Squishies? Mate, I was faster than its shadow. Just not faster than its damage output. I got the Defense Down debuff on it though, right? Good thing this crystal can print a new me. "Blimey, that was a close shave, Ash. Thanks for the pink ticket out," he quipped. that's all mate. Didn't even lose my socks." He flashed a grin.
Marla floated higher, her delicate wings humming with renewed energy, but her voice held a note of concern. "It felt... cold, Ash. Being disassembled and re-sequenced. But it worked. The anchor held. I'm just relieved we still have the full run's worth of loot. You finished the cultivation, didn't you? Ten out of ten?"
I nodded, gripping the Dahkra Rod and flashing my Brood Mother Palm, feeling the deep, resonant power of the Umbral Dragon Core resting safely in my Satchel Ring. "Ten out of ten. The Brood Mother Palm is unlocked, and the Dahkra Rod is Tier 2. But the price is the boss chamber is about to detonate."
"Good work, boss," Mothman acknowledged, instantly serious. "Loot, scoot, and run. Time to get out of the danger zone and power up."
Marla instantly started checking her wings and the charge of her Orgone pool. Koba slammed his armored shoulder, his carapace reforming with a dull, heavy thud. Mothman, already a blur, executed a swift somersault, testing his sonic blades. "Blimey, that was a close shave, Ash. Thanks for the pink ticket out," he quipped.
"The crystal are going to detonate soon; I don't think we have much time." Herja confirmed. "The Blender Team is at full strength. We are now standing in the center of Gamma-7. The boss chamber is on an accelerated detonation timer. We must use this opportunity."
The cheer and banter evaporated instantly as the first distant rumble reached us, a bass note of impending disaster.
"That's the boss room!" Koba roared, his head snapping toward the deeper tunnels.
"She's blowing!" Mothman confirmed, already sprinting toward the main corridor. "The Orgone crystals are going critical! Move!"
We ran as a single unit, the Blender Team's regained speed a desperate blur against the escalating seismic chaos. Just as the tunnel opened back toward the Gamma-7 entrance, I knew we wouldn't make it on foot. The ground began to vibrate with a punishing intensity.
I skidded to a halt, raising my hand. I poured my psychic intent and a massive surge of available Orgone into a sharp, focused whistle—a deep-frequency, bio-resonant call.
"Hand!" I shouted.
A second later, the detonation hit. It wasn't a bang, but a terrifying, grinding 'thoom' that felt less like an explosion and more like the cavern itself was being violently torn apart. The ceiling groaned, and the air filled with the shriek of twisting rock.
Herja screamed a warning in my ear: "Massive structural collapse! A cave-in is imminent!"
Marla, Koba, and Mothman braced themselves, looking up as massive stalactites—some the size of apartment complexes—tore free and began their terrifying descent. Then, a sound that trumped the cave-in: a colossal, metallic thud from above. A shadow—bigger than anything the Scythe Dragon had cast—fell over us. A section of the ceiling ripped open, not from collapse, but from something massive punching through it.
The Hand had arrived.
The colossal silver bio-steel construct, my primary mount and moving fortress, plunged down from the ceiling, its massive digits splayed wide. It didn't land; it deliberately leapt down and over us, its final position an immense, inverted silver cup sheltering the entire team. The Hand's impact was our salvation. The wave of falling rock and debris, driven by the blast, slammed against the curved, shock-absorbing silver plating of the massive palm. The deafening CRACK of granite smashing against bio-steel was muffled to a dull roar beneath the safety of its chassis. We were in a small pocket of absolute safety, cocooned by my silent, faithful guardian.
For long seconds, the cavern trembled, showered in pulverized rock and dust. Finally, the seismic rocking stopped. We were alive, buried but safe, our exit completely blocked by hundreds of tons of rubble.
I placed my hand against the cold metal of the palm. "Herja, report damage."
"Minimal wear on the Hand's plating," she reported. "We are sealed in. Now commencing egress protocol."
With a low, deep engine whine, the colossal fingers of the Hand began to flex. It didn't push through the rubble; it began to dig, to crawl. With slow, powerful, rhythmic thrusts, the Hand excavated a tunnel large enough for itself, shouldering aside the massive stones until daylight—or rather, the dim, familiar twilight of the outer Gamma zone—pierced through the remaining barrier.
The Hand pulled itself free, setting us gently back down on solid ground, safe and sound. The tunnel to Gamma-7 was a smoking, impassable ruin behind us.
"That," Mothman breathed, shaking dust from his armor, "is the best bloody rescue service in the galaxy. Thanks, Hand." The hand lifted it's little pinky for a fist bump and Mothman obliged.
I simply nodded, feeling the massive weight of the Umbral Dragon Core in my ring. The run was over. We had the loot, the essences, and the team.