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Bella doesn’t notice it yet. But I do.

The dropship comes faster than I expect. Too fast. Its silhouette cuts through the gray sky, sleek lines glinting as it banks low.

“See?” Bella smirks, wiping her hands on her thighs. “Still got it. Dinner and a ride, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood medic.”

Her humor doesn’t reach me. My frills flare wide, every instinct thrumming. The ship’s descent is smooth—too smooth.I can’t smell the crew inside. No human sweat, no engine grease, no burnt rations. Only that acrid tang thickening as it touches down.

“Bella.” My voice comes out gravel.

She blinks, turning. “What?”

“Back.”

Her brow furrows. “It’s fine, it?—”

“Back!” I roar.

The ship’s ramp hisses down.

And the air fills with skittering.

Spider-like machines pour out, black and silver, limbs clicking against metal. Their bodies pulse with tiny red lights, their eyes unblinking, their movements too fast, too precise. The stench of burning circuits and old meat wafts from them, sour and choking.

“Shit!” Bella yells, already firing her sidearm. Her bolts spark against the hull, leaving smoking divots, but the swarm doesn’t stop.

I shove myself between her and the tide just as one leaps, claws spread wide for her face. My body slams it from the air, crushing it beneath my weight. It shrieks like tearing steel before snapping silent.

More flood out. A river of claws and teeth.

We fight.

Bella doesn’t hesitate this time. Her hands are steady, precise. She wields her medkit like a weapons cache—scalpels driven into joints, dermal lasers carving through limbs, bone saw roaring as it slices a drone in half. Sparks and black ichor spray across her face, dripping down her cheek like war paint.

It’s beautiful. And terrifying.

I tear through the swarm, claws shredding, tail whipping bodies into the cliffside. A drone latches onto my arm, itsmandibles grinding against my scales. I rip it free, slamming it into the ground until it crunches.

“Behind you!” she shouts.

I pivot, catching two in my claws before they reach her. Their limbs screech against stone until they’re pulp.

We move in sync. She calls targets, I destroy them. She sears gaps, I shove my weight through. Our rhythm is instinct, bond-driven, unspoken.

But for every one we drop, two more skitter from the ship.

The vessel shudders, engines whining. It lifts without a pilot, ramp still yawning wide. The swarm cuts off suddenly, retreating, flowing back inside as though pulled by a thread.

And then it’s gone. The ship rises high, vanishing into cloud, leaving only smoke, twitching parts, and silence behind.

Bella pants, chest heaving. Blood and oil streak her hands. Her eyes dart over the wreckage, wide, wild.

“What the hell was that?” she gasps.

“Nulegion,” I growl, spitting oil from my mouth. “It’s baiting us.”

She shakes her head, wiping her face with a trembling hand. “No. That was… it was mimicking evac protocols. That was—” Her voice cracks. “It wanted us tocallit.”

The wind howls, dragging ash through the canyon. My claws dig into the dirt, fury burning hot and hollow in my chest.