The shipments of ore got delayed again. The Delay wasn't just a logistical setback; it was blow to the fragile hope of humanity's dream of harnessing the stars and traveling to deep space. outside the workshop, neon lights flickered unusually under the sky full of stars, deep beneath the surface, hidden from the machines and newly built towers, something ancient stirred
In a forgotten temple, a circle drawn in blood and ash pulsed with dark energy. The air thickened with a scent of sulfur and decay as the final chant echoed—voices raised not in surrender but in rebellious invocation.
A breach tore open between worlds—the boundary between human ambition and ancient wrath was shattered. Hellish creatures, twisted and horrific, spilled through the rift onto the streets. They howled with hunger and rage, their forms shifting between nightmare and reality. Panic spread like wildfire. Cybernetic soldiers scrambled to contain the chaos, but these were no earthly enemies.
Among the chaos, whispers spread of a cult long kept in shadows. The Satanist worshippers who saw the breach as a path to power and freedom had opened the gates of hell willingly. They believed this apocalypse would burn away humanity's complacency and renew a darker, more primal order.
Yet, in the storm of destruction, some spoke of a higher design. "God has allowed this," murmured the elders in quiet corners, "to test the strength of mankind's will, to remind us that even in progress, darkness is never vanished, only held at bay."
Jax watched it all unfold from the edge of the damaged city, his cybernetic arm a cold weight at his side. The ambition that had driven humanity to the stars was now met with a price far greater than ore shortages or technical failures. Survival required more than technology—it demanded faith, sacrifice, and a courage that machines could never replicate.
Through the flames he saw a woman raise her hand, light sparking from her palm. Faith had given her something machines could not."
"Jax watched it all unfold from the edge of the damaged city, his cybernetic arm a cold weight at his side. He wasn't a chosen leader, just a drifter caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, yet his eyes saw what many would soon face."
"He thought machines were enough to keep him alive, but in the screams and fire he began to wonder if faith was the one thing he lacked."
Every hope of sprawling beyond Earth's orbit felt fragile now, overshadowed by a war both spiritual and physical. And the question that haunted every survivor was clear: how much were they willing to lose to fulfill the dreams of human transcendence?