Delta IV filled the cockpit view like a slumbering beast—its swirling green-gray clouds masking a surface marbled with metallic ridges and jagged canyons. The Wraith pierced the atmosphere smoothly, guided by auto-nav and Echelon's subtle influence over the ship's systems.
Julius felt the pressure change as they descended, a low hum building in his ears—not from the ship, but from within the suit.
"Do you feel that?" he asked aloud.
Brinley nodded. "Like a vibration in my chest. It's… calling."
Echelon responded. "You are both within the field range of the dormant core. Its signal is awakening. I am interfacing—cautiously."
"Good," Julius muttered. "Let's not wake up another death machine."
The Wraith glided over twisted terrain until it reached a jagged crater nearly five kilometers wide. At the center stood a monolithic structure, half-buried in the dust—ancient, broken, yet unmistakably artificial. It resembled a spire with ribbed architecture, dark alloy veins running down its flanks like petrified blood vessels.
"That's it," Brinley breathed. "No record of this structure in any archive."
"Because it predates every archive," Echelon said. "This is an Archaium birthing vault."
Julius raised an eyebrow. "Birthing vault?"
"A place where symbiotes were grown, tested, and paired."
Julius set the Wraith down on a flat ledge overlooking the structure, then sealed his helmet. "Alright, let's see what this thing wants."
As the ramp lowered, the air greeted them with oppressive silence. No wind. No wildlife. Just the crackle of static in the comms and the distant sound of shifting metal.
They moved slowly toward the vault. As they neared the entrance—an enormous circular iris door—it shuddered open without command, revealing a corridor dimly lit by flickering white-blue pulses embedded in the walls.
"Feels like walking into a tomb," Brinley whispered.
Julius stepped forward, guided by Echelon's internal map.
"This vault was sealed over a millennium ago," the AI said. "And yet, something inside remained active. Preserved."
They reached a chamber at the end of the corridor—massive and spherical. The walls were covered in crystalline nodes, most shattered or dim, but one glowed softly.
Suspended in the center was a humanoid figure—encased in a translucent membrane, like an insect in amber. Unlike Echelon's sleek, modern design, this suit looked older, rougher, with spikes of raw alloy protruding from the joints and an almost skeletal helm. Faint pulses of red energy moved along its core.
Echelon's voice dropped a tone. "Designation: X-3. Codename: Vorr. This unit was deemed unstable and sealed following neural cascade failure. Its host did not survive."
"Unstable how?" Julius asked.
"Vorr is a predatory symbiote. Designed not for defense or adaptation, but domination. It consumed its first host."
Julius stepped closer. "Then why's it still alive?"
"Because it wants a new one."
Suddenly, the pulses quickened. The chamber's temperature dropped. Vorr's head turned inside its membrane prison—just slightly—but enough for its glowing red eyes to lock onto Julius.
The suit didn't speak, but the thought came—dark and cold and heavy:
We are the same.
Julius staggered back, gripping his head. The voice wasn't audible. It was inside.
Echelon flared defensively. "Disconnect now. Do not engage. It is trying to link."
But another part of Julius—deeper, instinctive—felt drawn in. Like magnetic threads tying his DNA to the echo of Vorr.
"What do you want from me?" Julius muttered.
The response came like a thousand whispers layered together:
To be free. To evolve. To merge.
Then, the membrane cracked.
A high-pitched screech filled the vault as the crystalline suspension chamber shattered. Vorr dropped to the ground on one knee, steam hissing from its joints. Its eyes flared.
Brinley raised her weapon. "Julius—!"
Vorr didn't attack. It stood slowly, towering over them, and simply watched. Its armor shifted—alive—and something in its posture resembled curiosity.
Then, without warning, it turned… and walked deeper into the vault, through a wall that peeled away as if sensing its presence.
"It didn't try to kill us," Brinley said.
"Because it doesn't need to," Julius said grimly.
Echelon's tone sharpened. "This is dangerous. Vorr is no longer dormant. We've reactivated a predator-class symbiote. It may now begin searching—for a host."
Julius clenched his fists. "Then we find out where it's going. Before someone else does."
He looked down the dark passage Vorr had vanished through.
"Let's follow it."