We moved toward the area where the drones had been harvesting, stepping over the twitching, bisected remains of their dead. The smell of burnt chitin and that weird, sweet decay clung to the air, thick enough to taste.


    The ground shifted beneath our boots, a mix of firm stone and something… softer. Pulsing, slick, wet in places. The closer we got, the weirder it felt. The fog swirled around glowing veins of rock, embedded in the cavern floor like molten cracks.


    Danny crouched near one, his visor scanning the mineral structure. “This is incredible,” he muttered. “I should’ve brought a sample case. I mean, look at this! We don’t even have a baseline for-”


    Joey dragged him back before he could poke it. “Or you could not. Just in case it’s, I don’t know, radioactive?”


    Danny sighed, rubbing his temples. “Damn it. Should’ve packed the damn rad scanner.”


    “Should’ve packed a lot of things, nerd.” Ryan grinned, stepping forward. “But that’s why you’ve got me.”


    And then? Ryan stuck his finger straight into one of the glowing, slimy pools between the rock formations.


    Zoe choked on a laugh, while Emily smacked him on the back of the head.


    “Ryan!” Joey barked. “What the hell is wrong with you?”


    Ryan pulled his dripping, faintly glowing glove back, watching the viscous substance slide off. “What? It’s not burning. Feels kinda nice, actually. Like hot slime.”


    Joey pinched the bridge of his nose. “When you mutate into a glow-in-the-dark jackass, I’m not treating you.”


    Chris snorted, already scanning the area for anything worth money. “Forget the rocks. If this is some kind of bio-material, we might be looking at high-value alchemic components. Someone on Genesis would pay for it.”


    Ryan, still staring at his hand, flexed his fingers. “Yeah, so would a strip club.”


    Zoe lost it. Full-on laughing now.


    Emily sighed, grabbing Ryan’s wrist and wiping his glove down with a sterile cloth from her belt pouch. “You’re lucky this stuff isn’t eating through your suit.”


    “Yet,” Joey added flatly.


    Danny grumbled, finally stepping away from the glowing minerals, defeated. “Fine, we don’t take samples. But if we see more ahead, I’m getting one.”


    I exhaled, eyes still scanning the twisting shadows beyond the glowing veins. This was all too weird, the harvesting, the bugs, the eerie cavern. We needed to move.


    “Let’s keep going,” I said, checking my rifle. “We’ve spent enough time poking alien shit.”


    Ryan waggled his slime-covered fingers at me. “Some of us more than others.”


    Emily smacked him again. “Keep moving.”


    We pressed on. Another group of drones appeared ahead, but we were ready this time. The fight was cleaner, faster. Less wasted shots, more focused fire. They dropped.


    And the loot?


    [+14,560 XP]


    [+5,625 Credits]


    Another power cell. Another boost forward.


    I exhaled, flipping my rifle’s energy readout. We were getting so much more experience here, way more than back in Sol.


    Was it because this was the first portal delve in Alpha Centauri? Or was this just what leveling past 60 looked like?


    We’d know soon enough.


    By the time we reached the far end of the cavern, the fog was thinning, and the tunnels beyond?


    They were getting narrower. More organic.


    And the temperature was rising.


    <hr>


    We pushed deeper, the tunnels tightening, the air thickening with heat. The fights kept coming, small packs of drones that flared red on our HUDs, their carapaces cracking under plasma fire.


    We were gaining XP fast. Too fast.


    For two years, we’d been stuck at level 60, grinding the same dungeons, clearing them to perfection, and still? Nothing.


    But now? Every fight poured XP into our HUDs, like the System had flipped a goddamn switch.


    [+37,857 XP ]


    [+14,625 Credits ]


    [Item acquired: Power Cell (x2)]


    [Item acquired: Proxima PR-64 ‘Starfire Lance’ Plasma Rifle - TL9]


    Was there some kind of XP buff in Alpha Centauri?


    Or were these level 64 mobs just that much juicier than the level 60s we were used to farming?


    Either way, something was different.


    The notifications kept rolling in, but I barely glanced at them. We were moving too fast to stop and check how much xp each mob was giving out, and honestly? We didn’t need to. We were getting stronger. Faster. Sharper.


    Zoe’s movements were crisper, her shots more instinctive. Danny’s warhammer strikes landed with less resistance, the armor-piercing impact starting to take effect. Even Ryan, God help us, was actually hitting something.


    And me? I could feel it. My accuracy was better. My situational awareness felt sharper. Every shot landed more intuitively, every dodge came a fraction faster.


    Another Plasma Rifle. Chris grabbed it, he was a much better shot than Ryan anyway. A second power cell, good. And then? Jackpot.


    Our first armor upgrade.


    [Item acquired: Centauri Phantom Mk-64 Tactical Vest - TL9]


    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I lifted the Light Armor Vest, the sleek, matte-black plating catching the dim glow of the cavern’s eerie bioluminescence. It was light, way too light. My mind instantly flagged it as bullshit. No armor this light should feel this sturdy.


    But the moment I ran my hand over it, I felt the difference.


    The surface was smooth as glass, but beneath my fingertips, I could feel integrated nodes humming just below. Power-distributing channels ran through the interior, almost too advanced for something labeled just ‘Light Armor.’


    And the fit? I knew it would be perfect. The system adjusted the armor as soon as you put it on. Quantum nanites was the theory, but that was above my paygrade.


    My heart pounded just a little. This wasn’t just any drop. This was TL9 armor. Even a chest piece alone could boost my mobility and damage resistance beyond anything my TL8 suit could manage.


    I should have swapped it on immediately, but I hesitated.


    Because the truth was? Zoe could use this just as much as I could.


    Maybe even more. She was the faster one, always darting ahead, always the first into danger. And I had no doubt, none at all, that she’d look insanely good in this sleek, form-fitting piece. My mind flashed, unbidden, to the way it would hug her waist, the way the flexible material would curve…


    Nope. Not going there.


    I coughed, shaking it off. I opened the box. I had dibs. That’s how this worked.


    Zoe gave me that look, one eyebrow cocked, already seeing through me. Probably wondering if I was already imagining my victory poses.


    I smirked. "Not switching out until I’ve got the full set," I told her, trying to sound all strategic and shit. "My current suit still gives me that complete-set bonus."


    Yeah. That’s it. Strategic.


    Not like I was imagining how badass I''d look rocking a full TL9 set or anything.


    "Suit yourself, Cap," Zoe said, winking. "But you better hope we find the rest soon, ‘cause I wanna see how you look all decked out."


    Did she just… Was that a hint of…? Nah. She was probably just messing with me. Still, the thought of her actually seeing me in the full set... Blood rushed south. Fuck. Get it together, Luca. We’ve got a dungeon to conquer.


    <hr>


    As fun as dungeon delving was, we were starting to drag.


    It had been hours now, and everyone was on edge.


    "Alright, break time," Ryan called, practically dropping his oversized pack with an exaggerated grunt. He’d burned through a few grenades, but he was still lugging around those tank mines and that obscenely large turret.


    We were in a relatively quiet part of the hive. For now.


    And by quiet, I meant the walls weren''t actively trying to kill us yet.


    Which was… good?


    The deeper we got, the more this place stopped feeling like a tunnel and started feeling like something alive. The walls had shifted from rough-hewn stone to a semi-organic surface, pulsing faintly in places, as if it breathed in slow, sluggish movements. I swear it was reacting to us.


    Like it knew we were here.


    I shoved that thought away and focused on the moment.


    The air? Still breathable, for now.


    But it was getting thicker, heavier, hotter. We could still take off our helmets, but something told me that luxury wasn’t going to last.


    This might be the last time we’d get to rest before shit got real. Not that I minded. I lived for this.


    We took a break there, but it wasn’t too long before I was up again, ready to go.


    <hr>


    Zoe had already slipped ahead, moving like a shadow.


    Of course.


    With a grin, I switched to private comms and chased after her through the tunnels, leaving the lazy bastards behind.


    Chris was already mocking Ryan and Danny, loudly declaring that they were weak and impotent as he stretched. Solution? Chris would put together a Gym routine when we got back to the Triumph, including me.


    Ryan shot back something about benching Chris like a fucking dumbbell. I ignored them.


    Zoe was already moving.


    And I had better things to focus on. Like keeping up.


    And, let’s be real, admiring the view.


    <hr>


    We slid through the narrowing tunnel, the walls pulsing faintly, veins of dark red and sickly green threading through the once-solid stone. The air was thick now, swamp-heavy, clinging to my armor like a second skin.


    Then, the tunnel opened.


    And fuck me, it was like stepping into a goddamn oven.


    My HUD flickered warnings across my visor.


    [O2 Levels: 14.6%] – Respiratory Alert


    [Ambient Temperature: 103°F | 39°C] – Extreme Heat Detected]


    I sealed my helmet fully, locking in my oxygen. Beside me, Zoe did the same, her visor reflecting the twisted hellscape ahead.


    Eggs. Everywhere.


    Huge, bulbous masses, translucent and twitching, their thick membranes shifting as things moved inside.


    "Well," Zoe muttered, her voice crackling in my comms. "This isn''t horrifying at all."


    I swallowed. “Not quite the honeymoon suite I imagined, but hey, we’ve got ambiance.”


    She snorted. "Right? Just needs some scented candles, maybe some smooth jazz."


    “Oh, don’t tempt me. I bet Ryan’s got a playlist for this exact scenario.”


    “Ugh. Don’t. He’d absolutely name it something gross, too. Like ‘Egg-Laying Beats’ or some shit.”


    “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”


    “Shut up.”


    We shared a grin, but beneath it, my gut churned. This was bad.


    Not just the heat. Not just the humidity that made my armor feel twice as heavy. It was the sheer silence.


    The drones sat perfectly still among the eggs, their grotesque bodies almost blending into the pulsating chamber.


    Waiting and watching.


    <hr>


    I lay flat on my stomach, rifle propped up, feeling the cool, damp ground pressing against my bodysuit. The heat in this chamber was brutal, thick enough to make my visor fog at the edges. The air was dense, humid, and ripe with the scent of something… organic. Alive.


    Ahead of us? A shitload of eggs.


    Big ones. Hundreds. Lined up in uneven clusters, each pulsating slightly, the thin membranes barely concealing the things shifting inside. And beyond them, more drones. Silent. Watching. Waiting.


    I scanned the area through my scope, tracking movement, feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. Yeah, this was the kind of scouting I loved, peace, quiet, and just enough tension to keep things interesting.


    Then I noticed it.


    Zoe’s side, pressed right up against mine.


    I turned my head, and there she was, stretched out next to me, rifle in position, visor reflecting the eerie glow of the cavern.


    And she was grinning. Grinning.


    She turned her head and looked at me, winked, then casually went back to her scope like this was nothing.


    Yeah, sure. Nothing.


    I swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close we were, of the curve of her body next to mine, of the warmth radiating off her even through the suit. Focus, Rossi.


    I exhaled slowly, forcing myself back to my scope. Eggs. Bugs. Threats.


    Not the way her hip was pressed against me.


    Definitely not that.


    "Alright," Zoe murmured, her voice smug as hell. "Let''s make this interesting."


    I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean, interesting?"


    She smirked, adjusting her grip on her rifle. "I mean, furthest kill wins. Unless you’re scared."


    I scoffed. Oh, it’s on.


    She rolled her shoulders, adjusting her grip on her rifle. "Just saying, one shot, one kill hasn’t exactly been your thing lately."


    I shot her a look. "Excuse me?"


    "Your aim’s been... I dunno. Sloppy?"


    "Wow. Okay. I see how it is."


    She tapped her visor, smug as hell. "Look, I just think it''d be a damn shame if I had to carry this whole run."


    I scoffed, already lifting my rifle. "Furthest kill wins. No whining when I crush you."


    Zoe locked onto a drone near the far edge of the chamber. Distant. Obscured by heat shimmer. A nightmare shot. Perfect.


    "Got mine," she said. "Hope you brought your A-game, Cap."


    I exhaled slow, lined up my shot and fired. The energy bolt flew through the humid air… And pinged harmlessly off the drone’s thick carapace.


    Fuck.


    Zoe let out the most obnoxious gasp. "No. Way."


    "Shut up."


    "Did you… did you just miss?"


    "It was a bad angle," I snapped, reloading. "Go ahead, show me how it''s done, hotshot."


    She adjusted her aim. Fired.


    Her shot hit… not quite a kill, but it clipped the drone''s leg, sending it toppling sideways into one of the eggs.


    The egg burst open.


    A wet, skittering mass of chitin and snapping mandibles erupted from the ruptured sac, flailing and screeching. The drones, which were previously motionless, instantly locked onto us.


    A horrible pause. A moment where I felt the tension snap…


    Then the drones charged.


    "Run!" I shouted, grabbing Zoe’s arm.


    We bolted, barely dodging the first wave as claws swiped through the air where we''d been. The fog churned around us, thick and damp, heat pressing against my lungs.


    Zoe was laughing, the absolute psycho, ducking under a grasping limb and pushing me forward.


    "What the fuck is wrong with you?!" I gasped between breaths.


    "You missed, Luca!" she cackled. "This is your fault!"


    "My fault?!" I vaulted over an egg, nearly slipping on something disgusting. "You''re the one who hit it! Shit, left!"


    We banked hard, sliding into a narrow passageway, our boots kicking up damp filth. Drones skittered after us, mandibles snapping.


    Somewhere in the distance, I heard Ryan over comms.


    "Luca? Zoe? What the actual fuck are you two doing?"


    "Tactical retreat!" I wheezed.


    "Oh, tactical? With giggling?"


    I hated how much he sounded like he was enjoying this.


    Zoe grabbed my arm again, practically dragging me into another corridor, this one tight, the walls almost closing in.


    Too close. Too warm. And very, very aware of the way our bodies pressed together as we slid down to catch our breath.


    Shit.


    My brain wasn’t ready to process that right now.


    Zoe panted beside me, breath fogging her visor. "Okay," she murmured, grinning. "That was fun."


    "You are insane."


    "Admit it," she nudged me. "You love it."


    I opened my mouth to retort.


    Then Ryan''s voice barked over comms. "INCOMING. Get your asses back here, now."


    More skittering. More movement.


    Zoe and I exchanged a look.


    Then we ran.