The alarms wailed like the death-cries of some ancient beast, echoing through every steel corridor of Prism Base.
Non-combatants were herded into the deepest bunkers. One by one, the reinforced blast doors sealed shut with hollow thunder, cutting the screams of fear from the echo of war.
Boots thundered in the halls. Metal clashed against metal. Officers shouted themselves hoarse, their voices dissolving into the chaos of orders, panic, and the rattle of weapons.
Neo did not run for safety. Evelyn Kane had glanced back at him once, just before charging toward the upper command decks. That look lingered in his mind—laden with unspoken weight. Warning. Trust. And something like… final hope.
"Come with me." Just three words. Then she was gone, storming toward the main defense command.
…
The command center was a hive of frenzied motion. In the center floated the massive tactical holomap, a shifting sphere of blue and red. The red—abominations—was pressing in from every side, closing like a tightening noose.
Several icons blazed brighter than the rest. Unnatural, pulsing—The Listeners. Predators within predators.
"External sensors are down! The last feed—God, there's too many!"
"Rail cannons charged, but we've only got reserves for fifteen minutes of sustained fire!"
"Mech units online! Bastion's leg actuator just came out of repairs—stability uncertain!"
"Air drones can't lift off! Energy interference throws guidance out of control!"
One report after another, each worse than the last. The air itself was suffocating under dread. Evelyn stood tall at the tactical board, face pale but eyes like knives. Her voice snapped like whips, redirecting units, shifting formations, forcing order into chaos.
Neo stood apart, jaw tight, willing his mind into stillness. He closed his eyes—not on the map, but on the storm raging in his skull.
The whispers were no longer background noise. They were a chorus, furious and hungry, countless fragments of thought clawing at his consciousness. Amid the cacophony, the Listeners pulsed like signal towers, their intent broadcasting clearer, sharper, more terrible.
Patterns emerged. Their hunger shifted as defenses fired. Their voices stuttered, surged, dipped.
Neo's eyes snapped open. "Commander!" He strode to the holomap, voice urgent. "The eastern gorge—something's wrong with them! They're louder there. Frenzied—but disordered!"
Evelyn turned sharply. "Say it clearly."
"I don't have the words—it's like they're being pulled to something, but at the same time… afraid. Their signals are unstable. If we hit them hard—there—it might throw them off balance!"
She studied him, measured him, then the map. The east was thinly defended. If Neo was wrong, they'd break through fast. But hesitation was death.
"Redirect fire! Rail cannons, three-round burst—eastern gorge! Scouts, eyes on!"
The order fired.
A heartbeat later, thunder rippled from the earth itself. The gorge lit in flashes of incandescent light. The red cluster there shuddered.
The swarm faltered. Some beasts turned on each other in confusion. The perfect advance fractured.
"Confirmed! East pressure dropping! But north and west are accelerating!" a sensor officer called.
"It works," Evelyn breathed. Then louder: "Neo! Keep reading them. I need more weaknesses!"
Neo plunged back into the sea of thought. His consciousness skimmed the ripples of alien rage, tracing how the chorus shifted under each strike.
Energy weapons made them howl with fury, but didn't break them. Close combat, mechs carving them limb from limb—that made the whispers shriek. Terror. Panic.
"They hate energy weapons," Neo shouted, "but they fear being torn apart up close! And the Listeners—they're guiding them. When a Listener surges, the swarm in its sector tightens into formation!"
Evelyn didn't hesitate. "All mech units, ignore fodder! Prioritize Listener kills! Fire teams, concentrate every cannon on sectors with Listener activity! Break their command nodes!"
The new strategy bit deep. In the west, under covering fire, a Defender-class mech surged forward, axe glowing red-hot. It cleaved into a scorpion-shaped Listener, bisecting the monstrosity.
The result was instant. The entire western swarm spasmed in disarray, collapsing into chaos. Their assault faltered.
A cheer rose in the command chamber—but it died almost as quickly. The other Listeners had adapted. They sank into the masses, cloaked their signals, drove the fodder beasts into suicidal charges. Endless waves of chittering flesh and steel battered the defenses, bleeding away ammo, blood, and time.
"Third defense node breached! Casualties critical!" crackled a broken comm.
On the screens, soldiers screamed, walls buckled, and mechs staggered under acid burns and claw marks. Ammunition reserves plunged. Every man and woman was being bled dry.
Neo swayed, clutching his temples. The whispers surged into crescendo.
Then everything stopped.
The swarm's chaos coalesced. The chorus hushed into one note. One presence.
The Dominator. The central Listener.
Its will slammed into Neo's mind like a hammer of ice. Cold, commanding, absolute.
The swarm obeyed instantly. Disorder dissolved. Beasts locked into terrifying order, forming into ranks. And then—they turned as one.
Toward the base's main gate.
It was no longer a siege. It was annihilation.
"They're converging! Final assault—on the main gate!" Neo rasped, his voice raw, his skin clammy.
Evelyn's eyes locked on the tactical board. The gate pulsed red with danger. Energy reserves—nearly gone. Soldiers—spent. Options—none.
Her hand shook once, then steadied. She keyed into the highest channel, voice steel and fire.
"This is Commander Kane. Authorization: Final Line Protocol. Engage."
The chamber fell silent. A low hum rose from the depths of Prism. Ancient generators roared awake. Energy built, deep and primal, shaking stone and steel.
Neo staggered. His vision blurred.
Because in his mind, the whispers were no longer whispers.
The relic had awakened.
Blue veins of light flared through the walls, pulsing upward. It shone through stone, through steel, through the night sky itself.
For the first time, the relic answered.
And the war outside froze in place, as if every abomination and every human alike were waiting to see which god would speak first.