More and more insects of all kinds crawled out from the fissures. In the sky, an enormous winged creature circled ominously, its bloated abdomen pulsating rhythmically before ejecting torrents of green liquid like a morbid rainstorm.
"Warning: Type II Elite Amud Queen is depositing larvae" warned Phantom.
Qianlong's scalp prickled with terror. There was no time to look back—escape was the only priority.
Phantom suddenly alerted him: "Usable tools detected 120 meters ahead at the corner."
Qianlong eyed the hovercars parked nearby. "Why not take one of those?"
"Rejected. Probability of swarm interception: 85%. Escape success rate: 5%. Lethal hit probability: 10%."
Following the prompt, Qianlong reached the corner and found a corpse—a young man, half-buried under collapsed debris. He snatched the discarded jet-powered hoverboard beside the body and stepped on.
"Overriding controls…"
"Override successful."
"Assuming command—"
The board roared to life at maximum thrust. Qianlong crouched low, stabilizing himself as it shot forward like a bullet.
Belloq Starport had already descended into chaos. Order had collapsed, though whether by luck or design, no insect nests had yet erupted here. Over half the starships were igniting their engines—when danger struck, self-preservation trumped all.
The control tower frantically ordered ships to abort launch, but no one listened.
A flood of panicked civilians surged toward the starport. There were no guards; they'd joined the stampede. The name "Xenomorphs" had etched primal fear into humanity's collective memory over centuries.
Qianlong abandoned his near-depleted hoverboard and merged into the desperate crowd.
On the starport's vast tarmac, an overloaded starship climbing skyward—only for a void-like rift to materialize above it.
"No!"
The ship collided with the rift. No insects even needed to emerge; the vessel detonated on contact. Without energy shields, touching a Xenomorph void meant annihilation. Fiery debris rained down as a military unit barged in, shielding a group of nobles. They shoved refugees aside, executing anyone who resisted.
The air filled with screams. The shadow of despair was inescapable.
Qianlong stood frozen. This is extinction. Moments ago, everything had been normal. Now, the world was ending. He finally understood what "insignificance" truly meant.
"Calculating escape routes…"
"You must board Starship T231. Survival probability: 70%. System hacked. Data implanted."
Phantom's voice snapped him back. He spotted T231 at the starport's western edge—its boarding ramp was already retracting.
He sprinted. Above, more horrors emerged from the rifts.
A grotesque metallic insect smashed down beside Qianlong, cratering the ground. It scuttled free, beady red eyes locking onto him as viscous drool dripped from its maw.
"Warning: Locked by Type I Soldier-class Leviathan (Xenomorph subspecies)."
Leviathans were common heavy units—armored in reinforced alloy, mandibles capable of shredding most defenses.
Qianlong forced calm into his veins.
The Leviathan charged. No barrier could stop its bulk.
"Critical threat! Evade!"
He dove, rolling as the creature's scythe-like limb cratered where he'd stood. No time for relief—the next strike would be fatal.
The Leviathan lunged, jaws gaping—
"Extreme threat detected. Activating emergency defense: Particle shield online."
A white energy barrier flared. SNAP! The Leviathan howled, its fangs shattering.
Qianlong bolted past starships launching in chaos.
"Energy depleted. Entering hibernation mode." Phantom's voice faded.
His heart sank, but he kept running toward T231.
The ship's ramp was nearly sealed when armed soldiers surrounded it.
"OPEN NOW, OR WE SHOOT YOU DOWN!" a general bellowed. His men aimed portable anti-air penetrators—useless against warships, but lethal to civilian craft at this range.
T231 yielded. The ramp lowered again.
"Open the cargo hold too!" the general barked into his comm.
Qianlong's eyes flashed—he'd thought he was too late, but now he had time.
As the general boarded, his men shoved weeping civilians off the ramp. A five-meter drop meant broken bones or worse. Resistance earned a bullet.
Screams painted the scene.
When the last soldier boarded, the ramp began closing.
Qianlong reached the ship's underbelly and leaped onto its retracting landing strut. Phantom's earlier plan had specified an entry point: the waste exhaust vent. From there, he could crawl through maintenance ducts—but he had to reach the interior before the ship entered space, or the vents would seal permanently.
He hauled himself to the vent and pressed a palm against it.
"Identity confirmed."
The hatch slid open. Qianlong crawled inside as the ship's engines screamed toward the void.