Time in the Metro had lost its meaning. Days bled into nights, and nights into months. By now, Lili had counted four months and three days since the infected had come scratching at their walls.
At first, the sounds had been constant. Ragged breathing. Wet, animalistic growls. Mad laughter, shrill and erratic. Sometimes, they sang—the eerie, broken melody of the damned, voices twisted and warped like a chorus of the dead. And then there were the dogs, or what was left of them, whimpering and clawing at the pipes, their nails scraping metal, their bodies slamming into walls in a frenzy of hunger and sickness.
They never got inside. Their sanctuary, an abandoned Metro station buried beneath layers of collapsed tunnels, remained sealed. The entrance was blocked, the walls fortified. There was no way in.
And yet, the Sergeant had ordered silence. No talking. No movement beyond what was necessary. Even when the voices faded, and the clawing grew distant, and finally, when there was nothing but the suffocating hush of the tunnels, the order remained.
Lili understood why. But it was still unbearable.
She had been young when the world above died, and she was still young now. Too young for this kind of waiting, this kind of stillness. It made her bones itch. And the men… they were worse. They sat like statues in the dim glow of her many created light stones that lit the abandoned Metro station partially, their eyes hollow, their expressions unreadable. They didn't laugh anymore. They didn't speak. Not unless they had to.
And that terrified her more than the monsters outside.
So she tried to fix it.
She found a charred stick from one of their long-dead fires and started drawing on the Metro walls. The white stone was smooth beneath her fingers, and at first, it felt wrong to mark it. Like she was tainting something clean. But she kept going, the burnt wood scratching against the surface in broad, sweeping strokes.
She wanted to draw the world before.
It was difficult at first, like reaching for something behind a thick fog. But then, little by little, the memories came.
She saw herself, small and smiling, gripping her mother's warm hand as they rode the Metro together. The car had been full, packed with people in clean, colorful clothes, the smell of perfume and coffee thick in the air. Her mother had always pointed things out to her—the business workers heading to offices, the students clutching books, the workers in blue uniforms moving toward the industrial zones.
She remembered the Metro station that led to the park. The long escalator that hummed beneath her feet, lifting them toward the surface. She had loved it—the smooth glide upward, the way her mother explained how electricity powered the steps, how the world worked in ways she barely understood.
Then, the top.
The bright glass pavilion. The wide streets drowned in green. The sky—a vast, endless blue, dotted with small drifting clouds. The sun on her face. The wind running through her hair, crisp and cool and alive.
She had breathed deeply then, filling her lungs with the scent of flowers, of fresh grass, of something sweet baking in the distance.
She remembered the park, the laughter of other children, the sound of a ball bouncing on pavement, the ice cream cart man with his bell.
And that, and that was the last time she had tasted ice cream.
Lili paused at the thought of this, looking down at her hands. She had drawn the city as best as she could—the streets, the Metro, the trees—but when it came to her parents, she hesitated.
Their faces were gone.
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to see them. But all that came was something else—something rotten.
Tear-streaked eyes. Twisted smiles stretched too wide. Flesh pulled too thin over sharp, protruding bones.
Her hands trembled, the charcoal stick slipping from her grip. It clattered onto the floor, rolling to a stop near her feet.
She swallowed hard.
She had not seen a mirror in two years. Not even her own reflection in still water. She knew she had changed. Knew that her once-clean clothes were now nothing more than tattered rags, fusing with the grime of her skin. Knew that the men were no better—greasy, unwashed, steeped in the stink of sweat and rot, the air thick with the scent of bodies that had not known soap or fresh water in far too long.
But this? This was something else.
She could not remember a single human face from her past.
Not hers. Not her parents'. Not anyone's.
All she could draw was a crude stick figure—a small one, standing between two taller ones. A family. But she left their mouths empty, unable to give them smiles. She couldn't.
Because in her mind, smiles belonged to the dead.
Lili's fingers curled into fists, nails digging into her palms.
A whisper broke the silence behind her.
She turned. The men were huddled together, voices low. There was a tenseness in the way they spoke, their gazes flicking toward the radio.
Corporal had been trying to use it again. The device crackled, hissed, and then fell silent, the same way it had for the past months.
Nothing.
No voices. No signals.
No one left, not even the beeping of a single distress beacon was left. Even the thundering of the guns, and the tremors of explosions had vanished.
Now only a cold, awful feeling of nothingness settled in to the room, heavy and suffocating.
She just as the men knew it, but they didn't dare to speak it. They weren't just alone in the tunnels? They were alone on the planet?
"I'm telling you, Sarge," the Corporal snapped, his voice tight with frustration. "There's nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm not picking up even the faintest signal anymore. It's… it's all gone."
The Sergeant's expression darkened. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the radio as if sheer willpower could force it to work. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to Lili.
"Girl," he said, his voice edged with urgency. "What about you? Can you hear or feel anything? Any tremors? Explosions? The position of the infected?"
Lili let her burnt stick be, and lowered herself onto the cold Metro floor, pressing her ear against the stone. Over the years, something inside her had changed—grown. She could sense things now, things others could not. It was like the tunnels whispered to her, their vibrations carrying secrets only she could hear.
She focused. Listened.
The first sound was the wind, a distant, hollow whistle that curled through the Metro like a ghost. It came from far down the tunnel toward Achios, which meant there was a breach somewhere—a hole in the tunnel letting the outside world in.
Then, the footsteps. Slow. Shuffling. A mass of bodies wandering aimlessly in the dark. The infected.
But beyond that?
Nothing.
No distant gunfire. No tremors from orbital strikes. No echo of life struggling against death.
The silence stretched beyond the Metro. Beyond the city.
It was the silence of a grave.
Lili sat up, brushing dust from her cheek. "I can hear some of the infected far down the tunnel leading to Achios," she said carefully. "But… other than that, it's quiet. Just wind. I think there's a big hole somewhere in the tunnel."
The room fell into an oppressive stillness. The Sergeant's face hardened, but the Corporal exhaled sharply, shaking his head.
"See?" he said, turning to the Sergeant. "It's just like I told you. There's nothing left. No signals, no survivors. We're alone, Sarge. You need to accept that. No one's coming for us anymore, if they were then they would have already come. The Imperium has abandoned us, and probably moved to battling against the infected on some other planet by now. And knowing the Imperium it could take tens or even hundreds of years or more for them to come here again, for those higher ups to remember that this planet even exists on the map."
The men exchanged grim looks, their silent nods carrying more weight than words.
The Sergeant let out a slow breath, his gaze falling to the floor. Then, after a long pause, he spoke.
"Oh? And what do you suggest we do, Corporal?" His voice was quiet but sharp. "If the capital city of Achios is lost, then the planet is lost. And if what you say is true and no one is truly coming for us—just like all the other worlds these demons have taken—do you think there is anything that we can do then? Or are you suggesting that we should just give up? And what, just accept that we're already dead?"
Lili's stomach tightened at the thought. Trapped on a dead world with death always just waiting for them beyond their little underground home, and no help coming. The idea was unbearable.
But the Corporal wasn't shaken. "No, Sarge," he said firmly. "I'm saying we take our fate into our own hands. We go to Mikri Poli's spaceport, find a ship, and get off this rock ourselves. If there aren't any ships there, we take a vehicle and head to another spaceport until we find one. We don't just sit here waiting for a miracle that's never coming."
The Sergeant said nothing, his face unreadable.
The Corporal pressed on, his voice rising with conviction.
"Come on, Sarge. We can't keep rotting down here. This isn't a life. I wasn't built for this, and neither were you. We are humans, we weren't meant to live like rats in the underground, within this Metro always eating the same damn berries and peas every day that Lili grows. I want to see the sun again. Breathe real air. I want to feel something other than cold stone under my feet. I want to know my family is still out there, to see their faces again, to speak to real people—hell, to even feel the touch of a beautiful woman."
The other men shifted at that, their silence stretching into something heavier, filled with longing, desperation, and something else Lili didn't quite understand.
The Sergeant's eyes flickered toward her. He studied her for a long moment, and then, his lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile.
"Ah, a woman's touch would be nice, wouldn't it?" he mused, his tone laced with something strange. His gaze lingered on Lili. "Unfortunately, our little Lili is still too small for that. Hah!"
The men chuckled—low, dry, humorless. But there was something in the way they looked at her that made Lili's skin crawl.
She didn't understand the joke.
But the way they grinned at her made her want to disappear.
Then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. The Sergeant stood, clapping his hands together.
"Fine," he said. "It's decided. We move out. We'll go through the Metro, head to Mikri Poli, and find a ship. If there's nothing there, we'll figure it out."
The men nodded in grim agreement, their expressions serious.
Lili should have felt excitement—relief. They were finally leaving. Finally going back to the surface. But instead, she felt something else.
A deep, twisting unease.
Still, she followed their lead, taping a light stone to her helmet, strapping on her gas mask just in case, and securing her helmet over it.
They were going back up.
Back to the world above.
Back to whatever was left of it.
Lili stuffed a handful of peas into her pockets, her small fingers pressing them deep into the fabric as if the extra weight would give her some kind of comfort. She plucked a few strawberries, a handful of greens, and even a couple of small flowers for luck. Then, she reached for the knife.
The weapon had once been as long as her forearm, heavy and unwieldy. A gift from the Sergeant. But now, after more than two years, it fit her grip better. It wasn't as big. Or maybe she wasn't as small anymore.
She slipped it into her belt, then pulled on her military uniform. It was still loose, still too big for her, despite the cuts and adjustments the Sergeant had made. The sleeves hung a little past her wrists, and the pants, though shortened, still threatened to slip. But it was hers.
Her helmet came next, then the gas mask. Finally, she tied a glowing light stone to the side of her helmet, its faint, bluish-white glow casting gentle warmth against her cheek.
She was ready.
The others were finishing their own preparations, packing their bags with food and supplies. Unlike her, they carried real weapons—guns with mounted flashlights, heavy packs strapped to their backs, and thick armor covering most of their bodies. The Heavy, the largest among them, adjusted the massive rotary las-cannon across his chest, the weapon's bulk a stark contrast to Lili's small knife.
Once everyone was set, they moved toward one of the sealed exits. Piece by piece, they pulled away the rubble that had concealed it, revealing a rusted metal door beneath.
Lili stood at the back, next to the Sergeant, watching as the three riflemen took point. One gripped the handle and pulled the door open with a slow, grinding groan. The other two raised their weapons, standing at the ready.
The moment the gap was wide enough, the two riflemen swept out—one moving right, the other left—securing the area. The third rifleman followed, stepping forward to scan the tunnel ahead.
Then, with the Corporal following closely behind, they moved forward, sweeping the side tunnels like a well-oiled machine, checking every corner, every shadow.
Lili, the Sergeant, the Medic, and the Heavy trailed behind. The Heavy glanced back every so often, his grip tightening on his weapon.
The tunnels were dead quiet.
Only the wind moved through them, carrying a deep, hollow whistle that echoed across the stone. It came in regular intervals, a distant, ghostly howl that made the silence feel even heavier.
The deeper they went, the colder it became. The warmth of her garden, the soft glow of her light stones—it all felt so far away now.
The men's breaths turned visible, curling into the air in thin, white streams. Even with the magic-infused stones tied to their helmets, the cold gnawed at them.
"Damn, it's cold," the Heavy muttered, shivering.
"Doesn't matter," the Sergeant replied, his voice low. "We keep moving. Mikri Poli's Metro isn't far now."
They pressed on, their boots whispering against the stone.
Eventually, the tunnels widened.
They had reached Mikri Poli's Metro—a sprawling underground network of tracks, stations, and passageways. It was a tangled mess of routes and maintenance tunnels, branching off in all directions.
Lili stared at it all, trying to make sense of the chaos. But while she hesitated, the Sergeant didn't. He knew exactly where to go. So she focused on keeping close.
The deeper they moved into the main tunnels, the colder the winds became, rushing through the open spaces like an unseen force pressing against them.
Now and then, they passed abandoned Metro cars. Some were derailed, others still standing, their windows shattered, their interiors coated in dried blood. There were no bodies. Only stains. Signs of struggle.
The infection had come fast. Too fast.
Most people had fled to the surface, trying to evacuate. That's what the emergency broadcasts had told them to do. The bunkers had been an option, but…
As they passed one such station, Lili glanced toward its open blast doors. Blood smeared the entrance, trailing inward like someone—or something—had fought to get inside.
It hadn't worked.
She didn't need to see what lay beyond the doors to know what had happened to them.
Then, she heard it.
A faint, wheezing breath.
She pulled on the Sergeant's sleeve. "Sergeant," she whispered, "I think there are infected inside."
The Sergeant didn't even look. He simply placed a gloved hand on her helmet, giving her a light pat. Then he kept walking.
Lili swallowed hard and followed.
The further they went, the worse it got.
More stations. More blood. More signs of struggle.
And more infected.
They weren't awake. Not yet.
But Lili could hear them in the side tunnels—deep, ragged wheezing. Some coughed, thick and wet, but none of them moved.
They were… hibernating.
She didn't know why. She didn't want to know why.
She just knew they had to keep moving.
Then, finally, they hit a roadblock.
Two derailed Metro cars completely blocked the tunnel ahead, stacked like broken toys.
There was no way forward.
Except…
Lili spotted it first—a back door on one of the Metro cars, still intact.
One by one, the riflemen climbed in. The Heavy followed, hoisting himself through with a grunt. When it was the Sergeant's turn, he turned to Lili, gripping her under the arms and lifting her inside with ease.
Once they were all in, they moved forward again.
Lili glanced around at the rows of empty red seats. The windows were cracked, letting in the cold. Outside, the station was small—two platforms, no bunker.
And yet, she heard it again.
A soft, rattling breath.
This time, it came from the escalator leading to the surface.
She tugged the Sergeant's sleeve again, pointing toward the source.
Another silent pat on the head.
Then they kept moving.
The Metro car had reached a crossroads.
Ahead was an open door leading to the driver's cabin. The controls still flickered with weak lights.
To the right was an exit leading back onto the tracks, but the path was blocked. Their only way forward was through the car itself—or through the maintenance tunnels.
The Sergeant didn't hesitate. He stepped toward the driver's seat.
"Cover me," he whispered. "It's going to get loud."
But then the Corporal's hand shot out, gripping the Sergeant's shoulder.
"What are you doing, Sarge? If you start this thing, you'll wake up everything in the tunnels."
The Sergeant didn't flinch. "Yes," he admitted. "But if we keep moving like this, we'll get caught. And if we get caught down here, we die."
His gaze hardened.
"I'm taking us to the spaceport. The fastest way. The only way. If there's a ship, we live. If not… we die anyway. Now let go of me, Corporal, and defend this Metro car. Because all of our lives depend on it."
A heavy silence fell.
Then, slowly, the men moved into position.
Lili clutched her knife, her heart pounding.
Somewhere, in the dark, she could still hear the infected breathing.
And then Lili got startled as the Metrocar suddenly sprang into life with a shudder, its lights flickering on in a dull, artificial glow. A loud ping echoed through the carriage, followed by the cheerful chime of a robotic voice.
"Welcome to Mikri Poli Metro Line 3. I hope you have a safe journey and an enjoyable day."
The Sergeant cursed under his breath and slammed his fist against the controls.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Shut the fuck up!"
The voice cut out, but the damage was done. From the escalators, a horrid, bone-chilling laughter rose, followed by the shrieking wails of the infected. The sound echoed through the tunnels, bouncing off the cold stone walls.
"Shit, here they come!" the Heavy roared.
As the Metrocar lurched forward, the infected awoke. Their laughter and guttural growls echoed through the station, rising into a deafening chorus. Then, like an avalanche of rotting bodies they came tumbling down the escalators, slamming into one another, limbs twisting unnaturally as they crashed onto the platform floor. Their glowing eyes locked onto the moving train, twisted grins stretching across their decayed faces.
Lili's breath hitched. She shrieked and scrambled behind a seat, curling into a ball as the soldiers took position.
"Yeah, come get some, you mutant scum!" the Heavy bellowed.
His rotary las-cannon spun to life, the barrel burning red-hot before unleashing a storm of fire. The air cracked with each shot. Glass exploded from the Metrocar's windows, raining sharp shards onto the floor. Red bolts tore through the charging horde, dropping them in heaps, their maddened laughter silencing one by one.
The others opened fire, their rifles spitting death in rapid bursts. Spent casings clattered to the floor. Lili flinched as the Metrocar picked up speed, the chaos outside beginning to fade.
The Heavy whooped in victory, but it was short-lived.
A sharp crash rang out from the rear.
Another window shattered. Then another.
More infected poured in, clawing their way through the broken glass, their bodies contorting as they forced themselves inside.
"Damn it! Why won't these bastards give up?!" the Heavy growled, swinging his cannon toward the back.
The soldiers braced themselves, firing into the mass of bodies. The tight carriage funneled the creatures into a kill zone, yet still they came, heedless of the holes riddling their bloated flesh. Even with heads torn apart, some managed a few more steps before finally dropping.
Lili peeked out, barely able to process the carnage. Blood sprayed against the walls. Brain matter and chunks of torn flesh splattered across the seats. The Metrocar was riddled with holes, the wind howling through the gaps as it hurtled through the tunnels.
Then—a sickening crunch. A grotesque splatter.
"Yeah! Get some!" the Sergeant howled triumphantly.
Lili didn't need to see it to know. The Metrocar was plowing through infected on the tracks, crushing them beneath its wheels. The men cheered.
Then—BANG!
Something massive slammed into the front window. The glass exploded inward.
A split second later, bodies flew into the carriage, propelled by the impact. The sheer force sent men sprawling, smashing them against the metal walls.
"AHH! Fuck!" someone screamed.
Lili's heart pounded as she took in the scene.
One of the infected had latched onto a rifleman, its rotting teeth gnawing at the soldier's armored neck. The Medic and Corporal lay stunned on the floor. The Heavy, pinned beneath another shrieking abomination, struggled as clawed hands raked across his arm.
Lili didn't think—she acted.
She lunged onto the nearest infected's back and drove her knife into its skull. Or at least, she tried.
The blade barely sank in.
Panic shot through her veins. The creature barely even noticed.
Her fingers trembled as she let go, realizing just how helpless she was.
The infected turned—until—
"Bang!"
The Heavy fired his sidearm. The bullet ripped through the creature's skull, dropping it instantly.
Lili yelped as the body collapsed, dragging her down with it.
A firm hand grabbed her—the Corporal.
"Get to the Heavy! Heal him, now!" he barked, shoving her toward the wounded heavy, and without any further hesitation, Lili obeyed. She pressed her small hands over the Heavy's bleeding forearm, closed her eyes, and reached inward—deep into the pure white core of light nestled above her heart. It pulsed like a second heartbeat, a warm presence intertwined with her very being.
Drawing upon its power, she guided the radiant energy through her fingertips. A soft glow bloomed beneath her hands, spreading over the wound in gentle waves. The torn flesh knit itself back together, the bleeding slowed, and warmth replaced the pain.
She barely had time to pause, before the Corporal pushed her to the two riflemen at the back of the Metrocar. Seeing them and the two unmoving infected at their sides, Lili could see that they had also fought and now they were bit. Their bodies were trembling as the infection clawed at them, desperate to take hold. Running to them Lili focused, her light surging forth, pushing back the sickness, purging the taint before it could spread.
A deep weariness tugged at her, a familiar drain on her strength. Her breathing grew heavier, her limbs sluggish—but she didn't stop. Not until the last wound was sealed, the last breath of corruption erased.
Then finally she breath a sigh of relief as she saw the mens faces calm, and she felt the sickness leave them. She had done it. They would live.
The Sergeant, seemingly unbothered by the chaos, expertly maneuvered the Metrocar toward their destination.
Lili didn't know how he knew how to operate it, but she was impressed. The man was full of surprises.
Then Lili spotted her knife on the floor, and quickly went to it, bending down to pick it up from the Metrocar's now blood-slicked floor, that was full of broken shards of glass that were crunching beneath her small shoes. And then as she did so, the Metrocar rumbled to a stop at the spaceport's Metro station, and the doors slammed open.
Without waiting, the soldiers rushed out, boots pounding against the platform. They fanned out in a wide arc, rifles sweeping in all directions, tense fingers resting on triggers.
Nothing. No movement. No snarling hordes rushing to greet them.
Silent nods were exchanged, and then they sprinted—heading straight for the long, looming escalators that led to the surface.
Lili's heart leapt into her throat as she hesitated at the Metrocar's door. Behind the Metrocar, deep within the tunnels, she could hear the distant growls of the infected growing ever louder, a rising chorus of madness. Panic shot through her veins. She was small, slow—she couldn't be left behind.
She ran.
Her little legs struggled to keep up with the soldiers' long strides. And as she ran, the ever growing cold that was coming from the surface bit painfully at her exposed skin, numbing her fingers even through her gloves. She barely noticed when her knife slipped from her grasp, clattering onto the tiled floor.
At the base of the escalators, the Sergeant barked, "Move it! Unless you wanna stay and join those freaks!"
The men didn't hesitate, bounding up the steps two at a time. Lili, however, skidded to a stop.
She stared up at the long, dimly lit escalator. A pale, white glow bled in from above, but it wasn't the warm, golden sun she remembered. It was cold. Dead.
Her breath fogged against the inside of her gas mask, her vision blurring. Even standing here, she was already shivering. The chill clawed into her thin pants, her flimsy shoes utterly useless against the biting frost.
A sharp, guttural howl from behind shattered her hesitation.
She wiped a gloved hand across her mask and forced herself forward, stumbling up the escalator. Each step was sluggish, her breath coming fast and shallow, making her mask fog even more. She could barely see the soldiers ahead, only faint blurs of green uniforms against the dim light.
Then, finally—the top.
The Metro station sprawled before her, massive and ruined. Its once-pristine glass windows were shattered, letting the wind howl through. The bodies of infected lay strewn across the floor, their twisted, grinning faces frozen in death. Among them were the remnants of soldiers—some torn apart, others little more than dismembered limbs in pools of blackened blood.
Beyond the wreckage, past the broken windows, Lili saw it.
The city.
It was buried under white snow now.
The thick snow covered the streets, blanketing rusted-out vehicles, smothering the corpses that lay in twisted heaps. The towering skyscrapers, once symbols of strength, stood ruined—some hollowed out from battles fought within, others reduced to skeletal husks where their defense batteries had exploded. Above, the sky was an endless, choking gray, swirling with slow-falling flakes of white.
A rifleman cursed under his breath. "Shit… is this a nuclear winter? Did those bastards at HQ really set off the bombs?"
The Sergeant exhaled, his breath coming through his gas mask to form a visible cloud. "Looks like it. That means we're on our own." He adjusted his grip on his rifle, eyes scanning the desolate wasteland. "All the more reason to find a ship and get the hell outta here before radiation or the infection gets us. Move out!"
Lili didn't understand all of it—nuclear winter, bombs—but she understood enough.
This place was dead.
She followed as the men trudged forward, cutting a path through the knee-high snow toward the spaceport's entrance. Each step sent an icy sting through her legs, her pants already damp and clinging to her skin.
Shivering and hugging herself for warmth, Lili then felt something high above. Looking up she stopped for but a moment as she noticed a strange shadow move.
A dark figure—a bird? It circled over the spaceport for but a few moments, before then disappearing behind the ruined structure.
Lili frowned but said nothing. It was probably nothing.
The entrance loomed ahead, wide open. Scattered around it were the burned-out remains of armored vehicles, some half-buried in the snow. Dead soldiers slumped against them, their lifeless eyes staring at nothing. Inside the terminal, more bodies lay in heaps—some human, some infected, all frozen in grotesque stillness.
The spaceport was a graveyard.
Lili's attention snapped back as a noise echoed from behind.
The Metro tunnels.
The howls were getting closer.
"Sarge… they're coming." Her voice trembled as she panted behind the men.
The Sergeant didn't hesitate. He sprinted toward a console behind a desk, fingers flying over the cracked screen. A map flickered to life, glitching, static-lined—but one blinking dot remained.
A ship.
His face split into a grin. "Hell yes! We've got a hit. An old cargo freighter—Bay 63!"
His fist pumped in victory. Then, grabbing his rifle, he turned to the others.
"Let's move! Now!"
Lili herself had never been to the spaceport before, and so she had no idea where they were going or what exactly they were doing.
But as they moved through its vast, cavernous halls, certain sights stood out—familiar in a distant, storybook way. Towering statues of armored soldiers and serene, angelic figures lined the walls, their forms frozen in silent vigilance. These kinds of monuments were common throughout the Imperium, symbols of power, faith, and unity.
Above them, the ceiling stretched high into darkness, but one grand mural still caught her eye. It depicted mighty Imperial fleets soaring through the stars, their ships casting great shadows over conquered worlds below. It was beautiful—so much so that, for a fleeting moment, she forgot about the cold biting her skin and the exhaustion gnawing at her limbs.
But there was no time to admire.
The deeper they went, the darker it became.
The emergency lighting grew sparse, flickering weakly, until the soldiers were once again forced to flick on their flashlights. Beams of white light cut through the pitch-black corridors, revealing glimpses of overturned cargo, broken machinery, and bodies—some human, some not.
Then, from far behind she heard it again, a sound.
A growl. A low, sickly chuckle, followed by singing.
It was a voice, shrill and joyous, echoing through the darkness, carrying through the vast emptiness of the spaceport.
"Join our song, sing along, celebrate our sickness… Through our bile, we will smile, one and all bear witness… to our unifying sickness."
The words sent an icy shudder through Lili's spine.
"Shit, move!" one of the riflemen barked.
The squad broke into a sprint, boots pounding against the cold metal floors. Lili tried to keep up, but her short legs simply couldn't match their speed. Her breathing grew ragged, her limbs sluggish. She was falling behind—alone in the dark.
But suddenly, strong hands grabbed her.
She let out a yelp, but it was only Heavy. Without a word, he hoisted her onto his back, settling her atop his large pack like she weighed nothing.
"Hold on, kid," he grunted, picking up the pace.
The wind howled as they ran through the spaceport's wide corridors. The infected behind them grew louder, their mad laughter filling the air, their steps an erratic, frenzied drumbeat on the metal floors.
Then, ahead—a large doorway.
Painted above it, in massive, bold numbers: 63.
The hangar.
The squad burst through, stumbling into the open space beyond.
The first thing that hit Lili was the wind. It roared through the massive hangar exit, which yawned open to the dead, snow-covered city outside. Cold air bit at her skin, her already-numb fingers gripping Heavy's armor tightly.
And there, at the center of the hangar—the ship.
It wasn't pretty. The cargo freighter was bulky, blocky, a massive slab of steel with heavy loading cranes and external fuel tanks welded onto its sides. But it was intact. It was theirs.
The Sergeant let out a triumphant laugh, breaking into a run.
"Hah! We found it! We actually found it!"
The Corporal grinned, following close behind. "Hell yeah, Sarge! I knew this was the right plan! Come on, everyone—let's get the hell out of here!"
Finally for Lili it seemed that the nightmare would end and a new adventure would begin, but then. Suddenly Lili felt a sudden, gnawing sense of dread—a warning, like an icy chill seeping into her bones. It wasn't just the infected closing in from behind. No, this was something different, something worse.
Her eyes shot upward, scanning the ceiling of the hangar.
And then she saw it.
A thunderous bang echoed through the spaceport as a massive, cone-shaped metallic pod tore through the ceiling above. The world seemed to slow for a moment—time itself stuttering as the pod plummeted, crashing down upon the cargo freighter.
The sheer force of the impact split the ship in half. The vessel's fuel tanks ignited, a fiery explosion erupting in a blinding flash that made Lili's eyes burn.
Then came the shockwave.
It hit her with the force of a freight train, sending the Sergeant and his squad flying backwards. Lili felt herself yanked off Heavy's back, tossed like a ragdoll into the air. The world spun wildly, her ears ringing in the chaos, her body crashing into the cold metal floor of the hangar.
When her vision cleared, she saw the aftermath.
From the flames of the exploded freighter emerged figures—massive, hulking forms, their bodies encased in green, weathered armor. These weren't the infected she knew. They weren't human. Their silhouettes towered over the squad, their heavy bolter guns gleaming ominously in the firelight.
Lili could barely process what was happening. The men of the squad were scrambling to their feet, eyes wide with disbelief. The Sergeant barked orders, but the chaos was too much. The hulking figures moved with unnatural speed, shrugging off incoming fire as though it were little more than a nuisance. The squad's lasrifles fired in rapid bursts, their shots barely leaving a mark on the thick armor.
The hulking beasts walked forward, unaffected.
Then came the sound of heavy, metallic thunder. The air seemed to hum as large, monstrous rounds ripped through the hangar.
Lili watched in horror as the first shot tore through the Corporal's body, cutting him in half. His upper half crumpled to the floor, twitching in its final moments. Heavy's pack exploded, sending him hurtling backward, though he still fought on. One of the riflemen's legs was blown clean off, the violent impact scattering his remains across the hangar. The bullet that hit the ground exploded on impact, sending shrapnel and debris flying. One shard nearly took off Lili's head, but her helmet absorbed the blow, saving her life.
But the gunfire kept coming, relentless and unforgiving.
Amid the chaos, the squad did what they could. Grenades flew, ripping through the hangar with deafening explosions. Lili watched one of the green figures stumble, its leg wounded, but it didn't fall. They were resilient—unstoppable.
She turned her attention to the Corporal, his upper half still twitching, his body a mangled mess.
Lili crawled to him, her small hands trembling as she pressed against his lifeless wound, hoping—praying—that somehow she could save him. But as she focused, as she tried to sense the faintest trace of life, all she saw was the sickening color of death—black, swirling and thick, an absence where there should have been light.
Tears welled in her eyes, but before she could react, a heavy weight fell upon her.
The Sarge.
He had a gaping hole in his side, blood pouring from the wound, but he still held something—two grenades, one in each hand. He shoved one into her shirt, gripping her tightly as he whispered fiercely.
"Take it, girl. Show them the defiance of mankind." His voice was strained, but firm. "I know it's not fair of me to say this, but watch me... do as I do."
Lili's heart pounded in her chest. The heavy steps of the green figures echoed closer. And then through the smoke and debris, she could see them—those towering monstrosities, their green armor glinting with deadly intent.
Seeing them coming Lili quickly glanced around, she tried to see if maybe heavy could help them. But Heavy wasn't there anymore. The space around her was consumed by smoke, and the ground was littered with the broken, bloodied bodies of her comrades. And no matter how she looked it truly did seem as if they were all gone, and now only she and the Sergeant remained.
And with heavy, slow steps the green figures came, one of them was almost upon them. Lili wanted to do something to stop them, but all her frightened self could do was hug the Sargents broken body, and watch as through the smoke and fire, a large hulking green figure emerged. It stopped just a stone's throw away, its heavy, mechanical breaths wheezing through its corrupted armor.
Lili lay motionless, cradled against the Sergeant's chest. His grip was tight, his breathing ragged, his body trembling with the last flickers of life. He held her close, as if shielding her, as if hoping—praying—that if they remained still, the creature would pass them by.
But the monster had already seen them.
It took another step forward, its enormous bulk blotting out the light from the burning wreckage behind it. Then, through rotted vocal cords and a pus-filled throat, it spoke.
"Ah... you still draw breath, little one." Its voice was a wet, slurred growl, dripping with amusement. "Your tenacity is truly most impressive, my little one. Now, why don't you join us, and hear our song? I have heard it has brought many smiles upon many faces."
And then—
"FOR THE IMPERIUM!"
The Sergeant's roar shattered the moment.
With a final surge of strength, he pushed himself off Lili's small frame, turned, and hurled himself at the creature, a grenade clenched tight in his fist.
He leaped with everything he had, the last of his strength carrying him forward just as the beast raised its weapon.
A single thunderous shot rang out.
The Sergeant's body was torn apart mid-air, his flesh and armor shredded in an instant. But his remains still struck the towering monster, and in his last act of defiance, his fingers yanked the pin free.
The explosion roared through the hangar.
The blast consumed the Sergeant's remains, engulfing the green monstrosity in fire and shrapnel. Smoke billowed, the force of the explosion shaking the very walls. For a moment, there was nothing—just silence, the eerie stillness after devastation.
Then, through the swirling smoke, the figure stepped forward once more.
Its armor was shattered, its helmet gone, revealing its face in full horror. The green, swollen flesh oozed with disease, its many black insect like eyes blinking in eerie unison. Its lips twisted into something that might have been a smile—if not for the festering sores and drool that clung to its rotting teeth, while a long thick tongue full of drool hung out its hideous rotten mouth.
And now it was looming over her, but a hand's reach away. Then It's many eyes turned downwards, quickly taking note of her small, frightened figure as it spoke again.
"Ah... still here, little one? You are most resilient. I ask again—why struggle? Why resist? Join us. Sing with us."
Hearing it's all so deep, scary voice so close to her Lili shook in fright. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she looked for an way out, her eyes began darting wildly around herself. But soon more inhumane footsteps came, it sounded as they were gathering all around her, and then through the thinning smoke, she could see them.
The infected.
Dozens, no hundreds around her. Their twisted, smiling faces emerged from the smoke and darkness, their sorrowful eyes looking down upon her like a weeping crowd. They were crowded at the edges of the smoke around her, pressed together, swaying gently as if already caught in the rhythm of some silent, nightmarish hymn.
And then, more of the hulking armored figures came behind the one before her.
Their massive boots thudded hard against the steel floor, their towering, disease-ridden armoured, faceless forms coming to stand before her like the large statues within the spaceport.
Lilis world seemed to shrink before them then.
Her little heart pounded loudly in her chest. Her fingers twitched against the fabric of her shirt, feeling something hard there, something as large that her little fists—
The grenade.
The Sergeant's final gift to her.
And as if seeing it, the monster above tilted its head, its bloated tongue slithering forward as if tasting the air around her.
Lili couldn't move. She just watched, her body was trembling, every instinct telling her to run, but she couldn't move, her shaking legs wouldn't let her.
Then, in the fog of terror, the memory of the Sergeant's sacrifice flashed through her mind.
She pulled the grenade from her shirt, her hands shaking. The creature watched her with an amused glint in its eyes, its tongue reaching for the grenade as if to snatch it from her hands.
But as it's grotesque tongue touched her hand it suddenly stopped. It was as if it felt something, something strange about her.
"Hmm," it mused, its voice thick with curiosity. "What are you, my pretty little one?"
Looking up at the creature Lili's hands trembled as she tried to pull the pin on the grenade. She was hesitant, but she knew that for the Sargent she needed to do this. She needed to fulfil his final wish, his final command.
Then her finger caught the pin, and with trembling hands, she pulled the pin and shoved the grenade towards the creature's mouth, while yelling in defiance.
"I'm not telling you anything, you big bully!"
Then in the next instant, there was a flash of light—brighter than anything Lili had ever seen.
And as fast as it came, it vanished and only darkness followed.