Reed's vessel spiraled through the fragmenting voids, systems failing as reality itself rejected its presence. Blood crystallized on the console before him, his own vital fluids having erupted from his eyes and ears during the desperate escape. Behind them, the Observatory continued its horrific metamorphosis, transforming from a structure of observation into something with far more terrible purpose.
"Sanctuary coordinates locked," croaked the ship's intelligence, its voice degrading as the consciousness matrices powering it began to dissolve. "Dimensional integrity at twelve percent. Survival probability... inconclusive."
Reed barely heard the warnings. His mind remained fixed on Shia's final transmission and the nightmare gate forming in the wake of their attack. Not victory. Not even meaningful resistance. They had simply accelerated the inevitable.
