Karauro was the last to rappel down. He hit the ground, freed himself from the rope, and followed his unit close.

  The other six soldiers peeled off into a separate alley.

  As his unit reached the Ash-hive threshold, the concrete curved inward—white veins branching out like roots. Across the way, Noose and her team were corralling wandering civilians.

  Static whined through comms.

  Isolated.

  They checked ammo. Kept moving.

  “K-19,” Shin ordered. “You will confront the wave in front of us.”

  “Right,” Karauro sneered. “Because I’m a weapon that can spit bullets.”

  Shin didn’t answer.

  Electricity coursed through Karauro’s suit, forcing him to kneel—teeth clenched.

  “We didn’t bring you here as one of us,” Shin said icily, smug behind his visor. “So get moving, asset.”

  Karauro pushed himself up and slid down the slope.

  Shin followed just close enough for Karauro to hear it—the tap of his glove on the shock module. Slow. Deliberate. Like he wanted Karauro to remember who owned the switch.

  Insect-skuttling echoed through the lane—so thick it blended with that humming Karauro always heard.

  His gaze tracked Grievers tussling over human remains.

  Instinct snapped—he flicked his wrist.

  Nothing.

  No claws. No wire snares. No kinetic devices.

  For the first time, fear hit him.

  Not of dying.

  Of changing.

  Of waking later with blood in his mouth and someone else’s scream stuck behind his teeth.

  “Well?” Shin shouted. “Come on then. Change into your monster shit.”

  They laughed.

  “So Noose was afraid for us?” one of them said, rifle aimed at Karauro.

  “There are conditions,” Karauro said, lifting a hand—mercy he hated asking for. “Feeling trapped. Stressed—”

  He hated how his voice sounded through the helmet.

  Small.

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  Negotiating.

  Shin didn’t give him anything back.

  A surge struck while Karauro braced against a concrete slab.

  His eyes brightened like embers.

  “That’s two ‘conditions’ down,” Shin scoffed. “Go on.”

  Karauro inhaled sharply and faced him.

  “What is your problem? Do you even know what you morons are asking for? Hasn’t Noose filled you in?”

  Shin looked disgusted. “She’s your mouthpiece?”

  He tapped again.

  The jolt hit Karauro—except it didn’t stick this time.

  Four tendrils burst from his Nexon suit, shattering plates. Karauro felt bones crack and grit through it. Skin began to rip beneath the fabric.

  A strained laugh escaped his helmet.

  He tried to clamp it down—tried to stay human—tried to picture rules, breath, anything.

  But the alley felt too small.

  The air felt like a lid closing.

  “Ah… fuck it.”

  His voice dropped into a growl.

  His body split open—ichor encasing him, mending wounds. A skull mask formed tighter than ever.

  Grievers stopped feeding.

  The fog went crimson—

  —and they rushed him.

  Elongated teeth snapped. A forked tongue slid out like a serpent. His arms bulked with armor and pulsing vines.

  The fog crept around them.

  Shin stepped forward, rifle up, aimed at Karauro.

  “Do as you’re told!” he shouted.

  He fired near Karauro’s clawed feet.

  A gust shoved the fog forward, swallowing the alley whole.

  Karauro vanished.

  Then something heavy hit the ground—one brutal thud—

  followed by a wet crunch.

  Somebody screamed.

  ---

  A soldier threw an incendiary grenade. It ticked—then flames erupted, consuming the fog.

  Through the burn, he saw one of his comrades on the floor fighting off Griever mites.

  Stingers tore at the seams. Mandibles clawed.

  Intestines pulled free.

  The fog burned away, revealing Karauro—growling at him.

  Blood and brain matter caught the soldier’s eye.

  Shin’s body was under Karauro’s claws.

  Karauro shoved it aside.

  The crushed face stared up.

  The soldier shot at him.

  It only fed the rage.

  Karauro charged. Teeth sank into the soldier’s armor.

  The soldier struggled—

  —but Karauro’s claws halted the fist mid-swing and ripped him in half.

  The remaining four opened fire.

  Tendrils hardened, shielding him.

  Karauro lunged. A tendril speared one soldier’s seams, teeth clamping onto the helmet.

  —Snap.

  He shook the limp body violently, then tossed the helmet—with the head—aside.

  The other three retreated.

  An Ash-Queen Swarmer swooped through the fog and seized them by the legs.

  It landed in front of Karauro and flung the soldiers into a swarm of mites.

  They cried out for help.

  Karauro stayed low and huffed, ember eyes turning away.

  For a split second, it looked like restraint.

  Like he was trying to choose.

  Then he focused on the Queen.

  Tongue slithered out.

  ---

  A charge round struck. Lights flickered rapid—whine—then an explosion.

  Karauro lifted his head toward a nearby roofline.

  Fey lay prone, shifting slightly behind her scope.

  The Queen ignited and plummeted, shrieking until it went quiet.

  Fey (over comms): “What’s the plan, Noose?”

  ---

  Noose leaped off a smaller structure, boot thrusters slowing her descent before she hit and rolled.

  Her rifle came up on Karauro.

  Noose: “We’ll have him burn out the flare. It won’t last long.”

  Crowe and Pike moved at ground level, placing blast charges on structure beams.

  The mites scattered now that the Queen had fallen.

  Noose took in the chaos, filing it away for later reporting.

  “You owe me a sparring match, mutt,” she teased—meant to distract him as Fey loaded a dampener into her modified sniper.

  Karauro didn’t even glance at Noose.

  His focus stayed on Fey.

  “Hey!” Noose yelled. “I’m the real threat—not her!”

  She fired rounds into him, finally hooking his attention.

  This time, Karauro didn’t roar.

  He just charged.

  ---

  Noose sprinted forward, activating her Halo-wire.

  Wires snapped out and ensnared his wrist.

  He halted mid-charge and yanked.

  Noose severed it.

  She fired again—pressuring him into shielding with tendrils.

  “Closing in,” she commed to Fey. “Fire when he attacks.”

  “Copy,” Fey replied.

  Noose was right in front of him now.

  Karauro reached to grab her—

  Not quick enough.

  Boot thrusters flared. She ducked, slid under him, evading his claws.

  He growled and pivoted sharp.

  A charge round struck the ground beside him.

  Detonated.

  ---

  Noose repositioned and slotted the dampener round.

  Steadied. Aimed.

  Waited for the smoke to thin.

  Karauro lunged.

  She fired—rifle bucked.

  A smaller tube struck his chest, hissing.

  Serum injected instantly.

  Karauro reacted like before—grabbing it instinctively. Even fumed-beast, he recognized what it was.

  Now it was completely inside him.

  He was about to roar.

  Noose didn’t flinch.

  “Definitely not,” she said calmly. “You’re out.”

  Dampener rounds fired from multiple angles.

  Karauro’s tendrils snapped like a whip, crushing them all in one motion.

  “Yeah,” Noose muttered. “Didn’t think you’d make this easy.”

  She shifted her weight—

  —and nearly slipped on something.

  A body.

  Her eyes widened.

  Not just because it was a corpse—

  —but because of how Karauro had killed him.

  A handler.

  She thought they’d retreated… but more limbs and torsos caught her gaze.

  Not all of them were taken by Grievers. They infect and devour.

  They don’t display.

  These were placed.

  Dragged into sight.

  Heads turned wrong. Armor peeled open.

  A message in meat:

  this is what happens when you make me.

  Karauro hesitated, lifting his head to sniff the air.

  Then he turned and sprinted toward the Hive-Cluster.

  Damn it, she thought—realizing his target.

  Cores.

  Noose weighed her options.

  “Did he just flee?” Fey asked over comms.

  “No,” Noose replied. “He’s targeting cores. Live ones.”

  “Shouldn’t we just destroy the hives then?” Pike suggested.

  “No.” Noose’s tone sharpened, laced with anger. “I won’t let Ryker dodge his mistake.”

  Her gaze fell to the flesh structure.

  And deep inside it—

  something answered back.

  A beastly roar.