The corridor within the Hive flagship was a living nightmare—walls undulating with pulsing veins, dripping bioliquid, and flickering lights embedded in fungal growth. A low drone echoed through the halls, as if the ship itself were breathing.
Julius stumbled forward with Seraphel's arm guiding him. Vara and Brinley were close behind, weapons at the ready. Ryka and Selene fanned out, scanning every shadow for movement.
"I'm detecting a central nexus ahead," Seraphel intoned through Julius's neural link. "It's the barge's neurocore—where Hive commands are processed. We need to shut it down before they can reroute defenses."
Brinley glanced at his ammo counter—burning low. "We're not exactly flush with time or bullets."
"Follow me," Seraphel said, accelerating into a sprint. The group raced down the winding corridor, leaping over pools of leeching ichor. A hive drone dropped from above, its armoured limbs whirling. Vara's glaive sliced through it, sending limbs scattering, while Julius's blade-arm drained its neural cluster.
They reached a junction—three tubular corridors branching out. Selene projected a holo-map in midair. "The nexus lies eighty meters to port. But starboard leads to a launch tube—they could flood us with bio-crustacean wave drones."
Julius pointed. "Port it is. Full steam."
They barreled down the port corridor. The walls narrowed, forcing them to press into a tight column. Bioluminescent spores drifted in the air, each one glowing faintly before flickering out. The floor buckled beneath unseen forces—caverns shifting.
"The barge's hull is reconfiguring," Seraphel warned. "We must accelerate."
They turned a final corner and found the neurocore chamber—an enormous open space dominated by a cathedral-like structure of pulsing Hive tendrils, converging on a monolithic orb suspended in midair. It glowed crimson, veins of light snaking across its surface.
Brinley's eyes widened. "That's gotta be the heart."
Vara raised her glaive. "Let's pump it with soil."
But the moment they stepped forward, the orb flared. Tendrils whipped out, pinning Vara's leg. She screamed as the whip–like appendage tightened. Julius shot forward, planting a hand on Seraphel's shoulder. "Open a rift—erode its defenses."
Seraphel extended pure energy from her palms. Space around the orb warped, tendrils sizzling as they passed through the temporal rip. The orb shuddered, pulsing violently.
Brinley leapt to Vara's side, severing the tendril with a plasma round. She twisted free, rolling into a fighting stance.
Julius surged forward, energy beam slicing through the orb's veins. It convulsed, crashing against the chamber's far wall as tendrils recoiled.
"It's destabilizing," Seraphel said. "But it's trying to overwhelm me."
A legion of Hive morphs poured from upper galleries, their forms shifting—each one a warped reflection of Echelon suits.
"More of them?!" Brinley hissed.
Vara angled a deflection path. "Stay focused. Hit the orb."
The hive morphs converged. Julius met them head–on, Echelon's blade-arm humming. He struck a morph's head, but its body reformed instantly, reintegrating shattered plates.
"Physical attacks are insufficient," Seraphel warned. "We need to collapse its core."
Julius nodded. "Brinley, cover me!" He sprinted toward the orb with Seraphel's support. It pulsed brighter—sending psychic shockwaves that rattled their armor.
Vara and Brinley held the morphs at bay with sweeping strikes and suppressive fire. Ryka and Selene protected the flank, slaying reinforcements.
At the orb's base, Julius jammed his blade-arm in and activated a Forge Warhead—its energy channeled into Seraphel's link. "Now!"
Seraphel unleashed a torrent of raw symbiotic light. The orb exploded from within, rippling outward in a colossus pulse. The neurocore collapsed like a star imploding; galleries cracked, tendrils withered, and the crimson heart dimmed into dust.
The chamber convulsed. Debris fell. The morphs twisted in agony before dissolving.
Seraphel's glow faded as she slumped. Julius caught her. "Seraphel!"
She coughed, voice faint. "The core… is gone. But Hive defenses… rerouting… I sense a new node forming."
Brinley fired a round at a failing conduit. "Great. It wasn't just the neurocore?"
Seraphel shook her head. "The Hive's memory is distributed. They will attempt to resurrect the core—unless we stop them."
Julius clenched his jaw. "Then we cut off every head." He gingerly lifted Seraphel into his arms. "Time to exit—let's find that node and finish this."
As they raced deeper into the barge's belly, the walls seemed to whisper—ancient echoes of Hive intentions, of worlds to conquer and code to corrupt.
But ahead lay the final threshold. And they moved forward—bound by purpose, by bond, and by the hope that this Leviathan would fall, and never rise again.