The moment their plan was forged, the battlefield seemed to ignite with new purpose.
Lio and the two masked strangers surged forward, cutting a path through the writhing tide of Cave Bugs that poured from every crevice of the hive chamber. The stranger in black and blue dropped his mocking airs and became a storm of relentless precision, his plasma-coated bo-staff spinning in wide arcs that crackled with searing light. Every thrust shattered chitin, every sweep cut down a cluster of bug-men with pinpoint accuracy, his movements less a dance and more the fury of a mathematician proving an equation with violence.
Beside him, the woman in black and yellow was a blur of motion—her blade flashing like lightning, her jetpack kicking bursts of thrust as she cut swaths through the swarm. She moved with surgical ferocity, slicing legs, wings, and throats in a blur, each kill punctuated by a crackle of thunder from her electrified edge. Wherever she passed, Cave Bugs spasmed and fell twitching in broken heaps.
And then there was Lio. No more hesitation, no more feigned clumsiness—he charged with raw determination, Lynx's unconscious form still strapped to his back. His fists blazed, heat rippling off them like fire from a forge. Every punch landed with a thunderous crack, splintering armor plates and sending shockwaves through resin walls. His legs snapped out with whip-like kicks, each one crushing Bug-Men as though they were made of paper. He moved like a living battering ram, each strike driven by the desperate need to carve a way forward.
The swarm knew their intent—knew instinctively that the queen was their target. They hurled themselves at the trio with suicidal frenzy, mandibles gnashing, bodies piling one upon another to halt their progress. But together, the three carved through the blockade like a wedge of fire and steel. Every time the swarm tried to overwhelm one of them, the others closed ranks, filling the gaps with blade, staff, and fist.
Carapaces split. Resin walls cracked under force. Chittering screeches echoed through the chamber like a death knell. And yet, no matter how thick the swarm grew, the three marauders pressed on. Their teamwork, raw and improvised though it was, formed a momentum the bugs could not break.
They weren't unharmed—their armor was slick with slime and ichor, their lungs choked with the stench of decay, and their limbs ached from the sheer unending assault—but with every step they drew closer to the looming horror of the Hive Queen.
The three finally closed in, the tide of the swarm thinning just enough for the shadow of the Hive Queen to blot out everything else. The chamber trembled beneath its movements, each scythe-like arm cleaving through resin and stone with terrifying force. Its pulsing sacs oozed with translucent slime, birthing more drones with every convulsion. The stench was suffocating, the sound of its endless screeches like a thousand knives scraping against bone.
The masked stranger in black and blue—who until now fought like a storm barely contained—suddenly slowed his pace. He twirled his plasma staff into a defensive guard, striking only when necessary to push back encroaching bugs. His voice came sharp and cutting through the chaos:
"Not yet," he commanded, the confidence in his tone sharper than his staff. "If you want this thing dead, you'll wait for the opening. One wrong swing and we waste our only chance."
His partner in black and yellow darted past him, slicing down another clutch of Bug-Men, but she didn't argue. Instead, she fell back to his flank, her blade poised and humming with energy, her breath steady despite the ichor dripping from her armor. Even in the middle of a hellstorm, she trusted his judgment.
Lio, however, felt his heart pounding as he stared up at the Queen. Its size was overwhelming—like a fortress of chitin and fury, its jagged crown scraping the glowing fungal ceiling above. Every instinct screamed to attack, to charge and end it before more lives were lost. Lynx's unconscious weight pressed heavy on his back, a reminder that hesitation could kill them all.
Yet the stranger's voice snapped him back to reason.
"Wait," the man repeated, scanning every movement of the Queen with hawk-like focus, his mask's HUD flickering with streams of data. "Not the legs. Not the arms. We strike where it counts—and only when I give the mark. Hold. Hold."
The three of them shifted their stances, weapons at the ready, their bodies tense as bowstrings.
The Hive Queen's screeching roar rose into a deafening crescendo, and then—without warning—it swung its titanic scythe-like arms downward. Resin and stone exploded on impact, the ground splintering under the force of a living siege engine. At the same time, its swollen throat bulged grotesquely, and from its cavernous maw erupted a torrent of bile.
The spray shot forth like a pressurized water jet, cutting through the hive chamber with surgical cruelty. The bile hissed as it struck the ground, steam rising where resin and stone alike dissolved into bubbling sludge. Mining equipment left abandoned by long-dead workers melted in seconds—steel frames buckling, pickaxes dissolving into warped stumps, helmets collapsing into puddles of slag.
Lio reacted instantly, throwing himself sideways while keeping Lynx cradled tight against his back. The corrosive spray licked across his Marauder jumpsuit, burning away fabric and exposing patches of his skin. Though the acid could not truly harm him—it slid from his body as if denied purchase—the sensation was maddening. A thousand needles of itching heat crawled across his exposed flesh, forcing him to grit his teeth.
"Ghh—dammit!" he hissed, shaking droplets from his arm where his sleeve had dissolved away. His face stung too, tiny blisters of irritation prickling his cheeks and jaw. Invincible or not, the bile's touch was like fire ants crawling beneath his skin.
The unconscious Lynx, cocooned in resin, was spared only because Lio shielded her with his own body, every fiber of his being refusing to let even a drop touch her. Her faint breath against his neck kept him grounded—reminding him why he couldn't falter, no matter how vile this queen's attacks became.
The masked stranger in black and yellow slashed through encroaching drones, her movements crisp, but she flicked a glance toward him. "That bile eats everything! Keep her clear, rookie, or you'll both end up slag!"
The one in black and blue rammed his plasma staff into a Bug-Man, bursting it apart in sizzling gore, then snarled. "Figures. Walking acid hose. Don't let it box us in—move!"
The Hive Queen's shriek shook the chamber again, the vibrations rattling through Lio's bones. He ducked under a sweep of the queen's scythe-arm, clutching Lynx tighter against his back. The strain was starting to show—his every movement was slower, heavier.
That was when the stranger in black and yellow vaulted toward him in a blur of speed, ichor dripping from her bladed tonfa. Without hesitation, she pressed a compact, palm-sized device against Lynx's chest.
"Wait—what are you—?!" Lio started, panic shooting through him.
The device clicked, unfolding with mechanical precision. A cascade of thin, flexible layers spread across Lynx's body like blooming petals. Within seconds, those layers hardened into a sleek, fabric-like shell—dark, lightweight, and strangely organic in its weave. It conformed to her form, encasing her from throat to toe with only a narrow slit around her mouth and nose to let her breathe.
Lio's eyes widened in shock, his first instinct to rip it away—until the woman cut in sharply:
"Relax, rookie. It's an Ex-Med Sarcophagi—straight out of Medi-Corp's bleeding-edge tech. Designed to stabilize trauma victims in warzones or disaster zones. She'll be in stasis, safe, shielded from impacts, toxins, acids—you name it. Think of it as a mobile cryopod… without the ice."
The hard-weave shell shimmered faintly as its systems engaged, the resin on Lynx's body cracking and sloughing away under subtle pulses of heat. Lio stared, a mix of relief and awe crossing his face.
"Ex-Med… Sarcophagi?" he echoed, adjusting Lynx's weight as the casing shifted, automatically magnetizing to lock against his back. It secured itself with reinforced straps and clamps, hugging his torso like an armored backpack. The burden suddenly felt lighter—redistributed evenly across his frame.
The stranger in black and yellow nodded once, her mask's visor glinting in the dim glow of bioluminescent fungi. "Perfect for evacuation. Or in your case—" She jabbed her elbow blade toward the raging Hive Queen. "—perfect for freeing your hands to fight without babysitting her every second."
Lio flexed his fists, feeling the sudden freedom in his stance. His jaw clenched with a mixture of gratitude and determination. "Then I'll fight with both hands. And I won't let her down."
The stranger in black and blue barked a laugh, cracking his plasma staff against another advancing Bug-Man. "About damn time! Now we've got less dead weight slowing us down. Rookie—keep up, or you'll be trampled when we take this queen apart!"
Lio dropped into a stance, heat already rolling off his fists like fire barely contained. He reached back once, brushing his hand against the hardened casing of the Ex-Med Sarcophagi—feeling the steady pulse of Lynx's faint life inside.
"Hang on, Lynx," he whispered. "You're safe now… and I'll make sure you wake up."
The Hive Queen's massive scythe-like arm came crashing down, cleaving through stone and sending chunks of debris flying. The masked stranger in black and blue braced himself, plasma-coated bo-staff spinning in a blur before snapping upward to meet the blow. A thunderous crack reverberated as sparks showered from the clash—man versus monster, his staff groaning under the sheer weight of the queen's strength, yet holding.
"Not yet—hold!" he barked, mask glowing with shifting spectrum data, every movement calculated with eerie precision.
Meanwhile, Lio darted through the chaos, carrying Lynx secured in the sarcophagi device on his back. Bug-Men lunged at him, mandibles snapping, claws reaching. His fists blazed with heat, each punch detonating chitinous armor into shards of smoldering fragments. A swift kick caved in a Cave Bug's thorax, another strike sent a Bug-Man crumpling in a plume of ash.
Every motion was survival and determination—dodging bile sprays that hissed against the stone, weaving between lunges, carving a bloody path.
The masked stranger in black and blue's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding:
"One arm first—now! Take it out!"
The Hive Queen shrieked and swung her towering scythe-like limb, the jagged edge tearing through the air like a guillotine aimed for Lio. He didn't flinch. Heat flared across his body as he surged forward, catching the colossal limb with both arms. The impact thundered across the cavern—stone fractured and split beneath his boots, spiderweb cracks racing out as the ground gave way under the sheer force. Lio's teeth clenched, muscles straining, the weight of the monstrous appendage grinding down on him like a mountain.
"Not—gonna—move me!" he growled, flames licking across his shoulders.
In that instant, the stranger in black and yellow streaked past, her blade flashing like a bolt of lightning. With a roar of speed and precision, she launched herself skyward, vaulting off collapsing stone. The queen reared, mandibles snapping, but she was already airborne—her elbow blades came down in a storm of steel and fury.
With one brutal, merciless slash after another, she carved the chitinous limb apart. Segments of the grotesque scythe-arm split and fell in sprays of fluids, crashing to the cavern floor in chunks. Acidic blood hissed and burned into the stone as the arm convulsed, severed into writhing, useless fragments.
The Hive Queen shrieked again, her remaining scythe-like arm lashing out in a blur of jagged chitin. It came down like a falling tower, the force enough to crush stone into dust.
But the masked stranger in black and blue was already there. His bo-staff whirled up, locking against the monstrous limb with a thunderous crack. The cavern floor beneath his boots split open, fractures webbing outward under the sheer force of the collision.
For a breathless instant, it was man against titan—then he grinned behind the mask.
"Batter up!!!"
With a roar, he twisted his stance, channeling impossible leverage into one brutal, sweeping strike. The bo-staff flared with plasma as it connected, detonating with a crack that echoed like cannon fire.
The Hive Queen's colossal arm snapped. Chitin splintered into shards, its disgusting green fluids gushed in steaming rivers, and the severed appendage tumbled to the ground with a crash that shook the hive itself.
For a fleeting moment, triumph lit their eyes—Lio's fists still smoldered with heat, the stranger in black and yellow's blade dripped ichor, and the stranger in black and blue lowered his staff with a smug satisfaction. The Hive Queen's howls echoed like a victory chorus, her once-majestic scythe-arms lying in ruined heaps across the cavern floor.
But their joy shattered as a sickening *gurgle* bubbled from the stumps. Green fluids surged like molten tar, bubbling and weaving together into writhing strands of flesh and carapace. The jagged wounds pulsed, birthing new exo-skeleton and chitin in real time.
The stranger in black and yellow's eyes widened behind her mask.
"It's regenerating!" she shouted, her voice sharp as steel.
The stranger in black and blue cursed, gripping his staff tighter.
"Then there's no more time to waste—this ends NOW!"
His voice cracked like a war drum across the battlefield, demanding urgency. Lio's chest tightened, his heart hammering. He shifted Lynx more securely on his back, her body cocooned in the protective sarcophagi, and clenched his burning fists.
The Hive Queen's wounds bubbled faster, grotesque new limbs beginning to claw their way out. The hive itself trembled, its birthing sacs throbbing like swollen hearts, the swarm screeching in manic anticipation.
The three warriors exchanged a look. No more hesitation. They had to strike together, full force—before the queen returned to her full monstrous strength.
=====
The Hive Queen reared back, its swollen thorax convulsing with violent spasms. A wet, thunderous retch rolled through the cavern as its maw split wide, glowing with a sickly green luminescence. Veins pulsed along its throat like overworked pistons, and then—
A tidal wave of caustic bile spewed forth, a deadly torrent spraying in a vast cone. Where it touched stone, the ground hissed and dissolved into smoking craters. The air itself grew sharp and acidic, biting into exposed skin.
The stranger in black and blue's mask glinted, his bo-staff braced. His voice cut above the roar:
"There! The opening is NOW—IT'S DO OR DIE!"
In that instant, instinct overrode hesitation. The three of them moved as one.
Lio bent his knees, the ground beneath him cracking under the sudden surge of his strength. Flames licked along his fists as he launched himself forward, Lynx's cocoon secure against his back.
Beside him, the stranger in black and yellow blurred into a streak of gold and shadow, thunder cracking at her heels as her blade thrummed with electric hunger.
And at the center, the stranger in black and blue slammed the butt of his staff into the floor, propelling himself upward with kinetic precision. The stone shattered beneath him, leaving a smoking crater where his feet once stood.
Together they tore through the acidic spray, the torrent hissing harmlessly against Lio's invincible skin, dispersing in wake of the strangers' speed. Their combined leap was a declaration: three comets arcing through the toxic storm, aimed straight at the Hive Queen's monstrous bulk.
All three of them arced through the air, momentum carrying them toward the towering horror. The Hive Queen's bulk filled their vision, its grotesque form writhing with twitching mandibles and pulsing sacs. For the briefest moment, time itself seemed to slow—the chaos of the swarm faded into the background, and only their targets remained.
Lio's eyes locked on the monstrous head, and there—latched stubbornly to the crown with strands of hardened resin—was the Shellwalker. Even amid this storm, the strange figure remained, inert yet clinging like a parasite. Lio clenched his jaw. Saving him wouldn't be easy, but he couldn't leave him behind.
The stranger in black and blue's voice thundered through the comms:
"On my mark—THREE…!"
His grip tightened around his plasma-blazing bo-staff, arcs of white-hot energy flaring from its ends. He shifted his entire body into the motion, muscles and energy firing in unison. The weapon became a streak of light.
"…TWO…!"
The stranger in black and yellow extended her blades, her jetpack unfurling into a pair of translucent, butterfly-like wings. They whirred and roared to life, spinning her entire body in a blur of motion. Sparks flew as the twin elbow-blades caught the air, her silhouette narrowing into a razor-drill of living thunder.
"…ONE!"
Lio twisted mid-air, flames bursting around his frame as he tucked his body into a vertical spin. Heat shimmered from his right leg, energy compressing until it burned like a molten spear. His trajectory aligned perfectly with the Hive Queen's monstrous skull.
"FULL FORCE!!!"
The countdown ended in a cataclysm.
The stranger in black and blue's staff came down like a comet, smashing into the Hive Queen's thorax with devastating precision. The reinforced carapace split, plasma searing through layer after layer as an eruption of steaming ichor sprayed outward.
At the same instant, the stranger in black and yellow's drill-strike carved into the swollen birthing sacs. Her blades spun with surgical violence, slicing through the grotesque tissue as the sacs ruptured. Swarms of half-formed abominations writhed free, only to be shredded to ribbons in her wake.
And above, Lio drove his blazing dive kick straight into the Hive Queen's head. The collision detonated with explosive force, his heat-scorched heel cracking through its armored crown. Resin shattered, its fluids geysered, and the Shellwalker was finally dislodged, tumbling free from its prison of hardened slime.
The cavern itself trembled, the queen's shriek echoing so loud it threatened to tear the air apart. Their synchronized strike had landed.
=====
For Lio, the instant of impact stretched into something unreal. As his blazing heel tore through the Hive Queen's skull, the world seemed to fracture into fragments of sound and motion—shards of exoskeleton spinning weightless in the air, fountains of green ichor glittering like twisted starlight, and the nauseating rain of ruptured organs collapsing outward in slow motion.
The queen's shriek had already left its throat, but in his ears it was muted, distorted, as though echoing from beneath a deep ocean. Time itself bent around the chaos, letting him drink in every detail.
For the first time since entering this nightmare hive, a strange sensation welled up in his chest. Not panic. Not rage. Relief. The terror of the swarm, the suffocating dread of Breachspace, the relentless struggle—it all seemed to dissolve in that moment. As if by splitting this monstrous tyrant apart, he had cut through the horror itself. A thought, simple and almost naïve, brushed his mind: It's over.
Through the blur of scattering viscera, he caught sight of the others.
The stranger in black and yellow righted herself midair, body whirling from her drill-like strike until she flared her butterfly wings, stabilizing in a burst of static light. The ichor that clung to her blades fizzed and evaporated against the electric crackle of her armor, leaving her cutting through the aftermath with surgical grace.
And then there was the stranger in black and blue. Unlike her, he made no attempt to shake the filth free. Instead, he spread his arms wide as chunks of gore and fragments of chitin rained down around him, his mask tilted skyward as though to bask in it. His bo-staff blazed with residual plasma, the battlefield painting him in streaks of burning white. He looked less like a soldier and more like some mad warrior-priest reveling in the carnage—a man who found beauty in the storm of blood and ruin.
It was grotesque. It was surreal. Yet in that suspended instant, framed by the falling remains of the Hive Queen, all three of them seemed untouchable.
The spell of slowed time shattered the instant they crashed back to reality. All three dropped like stones, their momentum plunging them into the reeking aftermath below.
Lio hit first, the world exploding in a splash of caustic bile and liquefied viscera. The stench of rot and acid clawed at his lungs as the slime clung to his skin, burning and itching in places his suit could no longer protect. His first thought was of Lynx—secure inside the Ex-Med Sarcophagi on his back—and his second was of the limp figure still plastered to the Hive Queen's ruined head, free falling down toward the pool of bile.
In a desperate lunge, he snatched the Shellwalker free before its broken body could sink into the corrosive slurry. The synthetic frame was mangled beyond belief—an entire lower half torn away, one arm gone, its core sputtering faint sparks like a dying star—but its digitized mind still flickered faintly in the shattered optics. Even so, it was barely heavy, dead weight in his hands as the bile surged around them.
He gritted his teeth against the sting eating at his skin while hold the mangled Shellwalker up high from the pool, fighting back the urge to claw at his face where the sludge made it itch maddeningly.
Beside him, the masked stranger in black and yellow broke the surface, her wings flaring and sputtering as static hissed against the acid, forcing her to swim rather than glide. She moved with sharp, purposeful strokes, carving a path through the filth like a blade even here.
Not far off, her partner in black and blue surfaced with a booming laugh, gore dripping from his armor. He shoved his staff into the muck to launch himself forward, paddling as though this bile pit was no different than a training pool. His voice rang with satisfaction, almost glee, as if victory was worth every drop of the slime clinging to him.
Together, the three swam toward the resin shore, dragging themselves from the pool that steamed and bubbled like a cauldron of death. For the first time since the nightmare began, the tension in their muscles eased, the air filling not with screeches or thunderous vibrations but with ragged breaths and the faint hiss of acid dissolving the carcass behind them.
Lio staggered onto solid ground, Lynx secured against his back, the ruined Shellwalker clutched in his arms. Relief washed over him in waves, though the itch from the bile gnawed at his face until he had to scratch furiously just to endure it. Still, through the exhaustion, a bitter smile found its way to his lips.
They were alive. Against all odds, they had survived the Hive Queen.
The three of them collapsed onto the resin-coated floor, their bodies steaming and dripping with bile. For a moment, the hive was silent save for the hiss of dissolving flesh and the faint crackle of bioluminescence from the fungal growths. The weight of survival pressed heavy in their lungs, and yet—strangely—there was laughter.
The masked stranger in black and blue was the first to break the silence, throwing his head back with a wild, unrestrained laugh. It wasn't the laugh of someone merely glad to be alive; it was the laughter of a man drunk on the chaos, reveling in it. He pounded his bo-staff against the floor with a triumphant clang, his voice ringing out, half a roar and half a boyish cheer.
"HA! That—was—awesome!" he shouted, his words echoing across the corpse-littered chamber. His tone was back to that almost infuriatingly playful bravado, like the whole fight had been nothing more than a game he'd won.
The stranger in black and yellow shook her head but couldn't resist the soft chuckle that escaped her lips. She wiped ichor from her blades with a practiced flick, her voice carrying a calm warmth even through the filter of her mask.
"Yeah… it was," she admitted, quietly but with a smile audible in her tone.
Lio leaned against the resin wall, chest heaving, his knuckles still faintly glowing with residual heat. His whole body ached, his skin burned with itch from the bile, and yet there was a pull at the corner of his mouth. His breath was ragged, but he found himself nodding, his voice low and almost sheepish.
"…Yeah," he murmured. "It was awesome."
The words felt strange leaving him—like an admission he hadn't expected to make. When was the last time he had allowed himself to go this far? To let go of the restraint he'd chained himself with ever since discovering his metahuman strength? For so long, he'd hidden it, buried it under clumsy swings and careful steps, terrified of what would happen if others saw too much.
And yet, in that moment—drenched in slime, battered and scarred, his unconscious friend strapped to his back—he realized a forgotten truth. There was something exhilarating about pushing beyond the limits. About fighting with everything he had, shoulder to shoulder with people who didn't flinch at his strength, who didn't stop to question it.
For the first time in a long time, Lio felt alive.
But the silence of triumph shattered almost instantly. The ground trembled again, not with the weight of the queen, but with the frantic, scattered rage of her brood. From the walls and the gaping holes above, the swarm poured like a black tide—Cave Bugs clicking their mandibles in frenzy, Bug-Men howling in distorted, insectoid voices. The hive itself seemed to scream with them, every vibration a symphony of grief and fury.
The stranger in black and blue tilted his head, letting out a sharp laugh that cut through the chaos. He twirled his staff with casual bravado, his words flippant despite the looming storm.
"Well… guess we killed mommy. And now all the brats are throwing a tantrum."
"Not funny," his partner muttered, but even through her mask, Lio could tell she wasn't entirely humorless.
Lio shifted the Ex-Med Sarcophagus strapped tightly to his back, tightening the harness that held Lynx cocooned inside. The high-grade shell hummed faintly, securing her fragile body from the filth and violence around them. Relief flickered in his chest knowing she was safe—at least for now.
Then came the Shellwalker. The thing's broken body had been left behind in the bile, but its severed head—still humming with faint light—lay cradled in the stranger in black and yellow's hands. She inspected it quickly, efficient as always, then clipped it to the front of Lio's Marauder jumpsuit with a metallic snap.
"As long as its Atman Core is intact, the rest doesn't matter. Easier to carry like this."
Lio glanced down at the cold, mechanical face dangling from his chest. A strange shiver ran through him—unnerving, but necessary.
Around them, the hive erupted in chaos. The walls themselves crawled with movement as hundreds—no, thousands—of Cave Bugs surged forward, screeching and clawing. The air grew hot with the buzz of wings, the ground quaking under the charge of the Bug-Men.
The three warriors exchanged no more words. They knew what this meant. One last fight to cleanse the hive of its small fry—cutting down everything that remained before they could even think of looting or retreating.
The stranger in black and yellow slid into a low stance, her blades gleaming with arcs of residual electricity. The stranger in black and blue spun his plasma-coated bo-staff in a wide arc, planting his feet with a predatory grin.
And Lio… Lio straightened his shoulders, his fists clenched and radiating faint heat. With Lynx safe at his back and the Shellwalker's head clipped to his chest, he grounded himself. This was no time for hesitation.
The three of them stood back-to-back, surrounded by an ocean of wings, mandibles, and claws.
Then, in unison, they dropped into their battle stances—ready to end it once and for all.
<<<[ Arc01, Ch09 - END ]>>>