The skies above the planet burned.
The second wave descended in force—squadrons of Mahasimu bombers and fighters in tightly coordinated formations, unleashing blistering volleys of shadow missiles, plasma lances, and voidflame bombs. The Giza Mtuji's orbital cannons locked onto the Krymaloth's upper segments, delivering pinpoint bursts of energy powerful enough to crack moonstone.
Below, the beast writhed through catacombs and tectonic hollows, lashing out with prehistoric fury. Where the bombardment hit, chunks of its armored plates shattered into obsidian shrapnel. Still, the Krymaloth endured—not in agony, but in adaptation.
The Creature Fights Back
As its segments took damage, the Krymaloth began to alter its outer shell. Glowing pustules formed along its spine, pulsing with phosphorescent energy. Moments later, they burst—releasing anti-energy mists that corroded Mahasimu metal and short-circuited targeting systems. The creature's shriek—low and harmonic—rippled through the psionic field, causing fighter pilots to scream mid-flight and veer off-course.
Saumu's voice cut through the tactical channel.
"Deploy anti-psionic countermeasures. Flood the battlefield with null-field drones. Jam its harmonics!"
But the Krymaloth was not done.
From its exposed underside, tendrils of bio-conductive bone shot upward, latching onto nearby cliffs and wrecked buildings, drawing energy from the planet itself. Cracks spread in every direction as magma veins burst and columns of toxic steam billowed forth.
The surface was beginning to collapse.
Emergency Evacuation Protocol
Far below, Shailia stood on a trembling plateau, shielding Kazi survivors with a protective psionic dome. Volcanic tremors pulsed beneath her boots. The ground fissured, glowing red with liquid fury.
"Giza Mtuji, this is Shailia. The Kazi are evacuating. We need transports now. Coordinate with Tano. If we delay, there won't be a surface left to stand on."
In the distance, Tano dragged a wounded officer toward a half-buried shuttle pad, his armor charred, one hand still gripping his war-spear.
"This is Tano. Immediate extraction required for the diplomatic corps and surviving Kazi. We're losing ground every second."
The response crackled through the channel.
"Copy that. Shuttles en route. T-minus ten minutes. Hold the line."
The Creature's Final Act
Support shuttles, veiled in stealth matrices, streaked toward the surface in formation—navigating falling debris and seismic shockwaves. They weaved between rising spires of molten rock and storms of ash, diving into hell itself.
From the bridge of the Giza Mtuji, Saumu stood motionless, watching through the viewport as the Krymaloth gave a final, thunderous cry. Its body twisted in agony and malevolent triumph, then convulsed—folding inward with a sudden implosion.
Her eyes widened.
"No… it's initiating a terminal sequence."
The Krymaloth's body detonated in a radial burst of omnidirectional energy. A shockwave rippled outward, tearing apart terrain, vaporizing shuttle pads, disintegrating stone, metal, and flesh alike. Atmospheric gasses caught fire. The sky turned black and violet.
Tectonic plates snapped like glass.
"It was designed to do this," came Admiral Kia's voice over the comms, calm and resigned.
"A biological doomsday device. Its death isn't the end—it's the trigger. The Silent Ones programmed it to ensure that nothing would ever rise again from its ashes."
Victory at a Cost
The shuttles barely escaped, engines screaming as they rocketed upward through chasms of flame and radiation. One clipped a falling rock spire and spun off course—but Tano leapt from the cockpit to redirect it, his armor cracking under pressure. They made it out—scarred, but alive.
On the Giza Mtuji, Saumu stared as the planet below collapsed inward—not in explosion, but in erasure. The landscape burned, then liquified, then hardened into obsidian plains, riddled with radiation storms and psionic scars.
"Leave nothing behind," she ordered, her voice an iron blade.
"Blast the remains. Salt the ground with orbital fire. This world is dead—ensure it cannot whisper to anyone again."
Orbital cannons ignited the upper atmosphere. Columns of fire descended, disintegrating the last remnants of the beast's corpse. The planet cracked and bled, a permanent monument to silence.
Reflections on the Command Deck
Later, aboard the Giza Mtuji's dimmed command deck, Saumu stood alone, gazing at the ruined planet from the viewing bay. No stars reflected in her eyes—only the smoldering black void that now replaced what was once a cradle of ancient life.
"We've neutralized the threat," she murmured, barely above a whisper.
"But we've paid a terrible price for it."
Behind her, Kizito stepped forward. His armor was dented, his face lined with ash and resolve.
"This was never a victory," he said quietly.
"It was purification. The Silent Ones left behind perfection in destruction—a test of will, and we answered it. But the cost was a graveyard."
Saumu nodded once, the weight of command etched into every line of her face.
"Then we remember it," she said, turning from the viewport.
"Not as conquest. Not as glory. But as warning."
The last of the evacuation ships disappeared into the black.
And behind them, a dead world turned to glass.