The air between their blades cracked like glass.
Atlas didn't see Vantis move—he felt it. A blur of force, an eruption of kinetic pressure, and his feet left the ground. His body slammed against a wall of alloyed steel, shattering a vein of glowing glyphs embedded in the chamber. Sparks danced in the dark, bouncing off his cracked visor.
He gritted his teeth and rolled to his knees, wiping blood from his mouth.
Vantis stood at the center of the chamber like a sentinel forged by war itself. Not a single crack in his armor. Not a drop of sweat. His expression was unreadable—calm, calculating, confident in a way that made Atlas's stomach twist.
[Status: Left shoulder actuator offline. Armor integrity at 71%.]
[Recommendation: Evade. VANTIS-09 combat protocols exceed expected baseline.]
"Nyra," Atlas muttered, pulling himself up and raising his sword again, "how the hell is he this strong?"
"He's not just synced to the Relay," she replied. "He was born for it."
Atlas's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"There were other Seed projects, Atlas. You weren't the first."
The answer hit like a punch to the gut. For months, he believed he was the last of humanity. The only living remnant of a shattered species.
Now?
There was another. One who looked like him. Fought like him. One who didn't bleed.
Vantis took a step forward, and the ground beneath him melted from the raw gravity pressure his suit emitted.
"You're afraid," he said simply.
Atlas didn't respond. His body moved instead—blade whirling in a precise arc. A feint. A low sweep. A pivot strike aimed for the unshielded joint in Vantis's side.
But the Ninth Host moved like wind and metal fused into perfection. He twisted without resistance, grabbed Atlas's blade mid-swing—barehanded—and crushed the energy core within the hilt.
A burst of heat exploded between them.
Atlas flew back again, smoke trailing from his gauntlets.
This time, he didn't crash.
He landed.
Skidding hard, he dug his heels into the Martian floor, bracing his stance.
"I'm not afraid," he spat.
Vantis raised an eyebrow. "Then prove it."
He leapt.
They collided again. Steel clanged. Sparks flew. Every strike was faster, more brutal—flesh and bone straining to match the inhuman speed of his opponent.
Atlas was stronger than he'd ever been. Enhanced. Upgraded. Forged in the furnace of Earth's last war.
But Vantis?
He was perfectly designed.
Each blow Atlas delivered was calculated, layered in unpredictability. But Vantis adapted instantly. He mimicked Atlas's patterns, mirrored his footwork, twisted the chaos into a rhythm Atlas couldn't disrupt.
"Who built you?" Atlas shouted between strikes.
Vantis didn't answer. He parried, disarmed Atlas, and with a pulse of his suit, knocked him to the ground again.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"My creators died before I was born. I wasn't raised. I was downloaded."
He pressed his foot against Atlas's chest, pinning him to the ground.
"I am the Warden's answer to chaos. The Ninth Host. The final prototype."
Atlas coughed, straining to lift his arm. He wasn't done. Not yet.
"I've fought monsters... gods... even my own memories," he growled. "But you? You're just another machine."
Vantis leaned down.
"And you're obsolete."
Atlas's fist opened—and a pulse grenade ignited at point-blank.
The explosion wasn't enough to kill Vantis, but it knocked him back, cracking the outer shell of his left vambrace.
Atlas rolled to his feet, half-limping, suit overloading.
But he smiled.
"Gotcha."
The chamber's glyphs, previously dormant, began to shift again. Responding not to Vantis—but to him.
Nyra's voice came through, excited. "The Obelisk's core is rejecting his command! You destabilized the link!"
Atlas reached for the Prime Relay again. "If I can finish the sync—"
"No," Vantis barked.
His blade surged forward, faster than before. Desperate.
Atlas spun—and for the first time—he was faster.
The blade missed.
And Atlas's hand slammed into the cube.
[Prime Relay Activated.]
[Authorization: SEED-01. Override Accepted.]
[Neural Map Synchronization: 51%...]
The room lit up. Veins of red, gold, and white energy erupted through the Obelisk's walls.
Reality wobbled.
Atlas's mind exploded with information. Images. Codes. Star maps. Histories. Names of planets long forgotten and races long extinct. The Warden's memory bank was ancient. Infinite.
[Warning: Cognitive Load Exceeding Threshold.]
"Don't stop," he muttered, blood trailing from his nose.
But Vantis had recovered.
He darted forward, striking Atlas's side. Bone cracked. Atlas coughed blood but kept his hand on the cube.
[Sync 62%...]
"Stop fighting!" Vantis roared. "You're not ready!"
"Maybe not," Atlas hissed, eyes glowing now with reflected symbols. "But neither were you."
Then everything broke.
A second signal entered the chamber. Another voice echoed through the structure.
Not Vantis.
Not Nyra.
Something older.
"HOSTS IDENTIFIED. DUAL SEED INITIATION DETECTED."
The glyphs froze. The lights dimmed.
And then came a sound that chilled them both to the core—
A heartbeat.
Not Atlas's.
Not Vantis's.
But something... beneath the chamber.
Something waking up.
Vantis looked around, alarmed. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," Atlas said through clenched teeth.
Then the floor split open.
The pedestal sank, revealing a staircase descending into a chamber glowing with violet mist.
Nyra was frantic. "Atlas, something ancient is activating. This was hidden even from Vorr systems. We're reading Eclipse-class signals. This isn't part of the Warden's design!"
Atlas stood, shaky but determined. "Then we go down."
Vantis moved to block him. "No. Whatever's down there—it could erase everything. This isn't the path."
Atlas stared him down.
"You said you were built. I chose this."
And with that, he leapt into the light below.
Vantis hesitated.
Then followed.
They landed in silence, surrounded by walls carved not from metal—but time. Fossils floated in transparent crystal. Weapons older than stars were embedded in stasis fields. And in the center of it all...
A black throne.
Floating above it—hovering—was a sphere.
Pulsing softly with life.
Nyra went quiet.
Then whispered, "Atlas... that's not Vorr tech."
"I know."
"It's older than the Warden."
"I know."
"What is it?"
He stepped closer, staring into the floating orb.
And then it spoke.
"You are the last. And the first."
[Origin Signal Verified.]
[Rebooting Celestial Directive...]
Then, above Mars...
Inside the Divine Chain...
The Warden's eye flared white for the first time in 10,000 years.
A new presence awakened inside the ship. Something that hadn't stirred since the Collapse. Something even the Vorr feared.
And it whispered two words into every Vorr system—
"Protocol Broken."
Far above Mars, a wormhole bloomed open in Saturn's orbit.
And something impossible stepped through.
Not Vorr. Not Human.
A third force had arrived.