“Listen, sweetheart. I’ve handled a lot. A raucous adolescent daughter, a psychotic ex-girlfriend who manned a gladitorium, an alien monster that could have been responsible for destroying a planet …. Heh. Trust me. I think I can handle a space goat.”

When the exit door jettisoned open, a waft of ice cold air hit him before he felt only the long, hard sting of it. The sun reflected its fractals of light off of the arrant panels floating through the absent expanse like dust. He smiled, cheekishly, at Pym, gazing down into the darkness that permeated below them. One misplaced step would spell their doom; they’d like flutter off into space, never to be found, or if they were fortunate, die of hypothermia or asphyxiation first. “Well, I’ll be expecting a reward once the power is rerouted.” Truthfully, Jack wasn’t entirely sure that his ruse would even be effective. It looked hopeless, but it was better than the alternative, and he refused to have that be a reality.

When she gestured for him to take the first step, he couldn’t help but to chuckle. The sound was absent just that—sound, and appeared even more hilarious in tandem with the scenery. “No , no,” he continued, “I’m not going first.”

He hooked his arm around Pym’s, held tight and plunged forward. The springs in the pad recoiled in perfect unison, deflating, then casting up with enough force to send the two of them soaring. Jack was accustomed to launch but never the butterflies in his stomach. Like the villain he was he watched Pym’s face for the pure look of horror he anticipated she’d wear. When they landed Jack felt bullet whiz by his head. A pack of Hyperion soldiers were still mindlessly circling around the Veins. Jack loosed a few shots; they richoted off of their shields, but some caught their armor. “Fuckin’ useless. Come on, sweetheart.” This time when he pulled her onto the jump pad, his eyes were trained on her chest. He hoped physics would sate his unquenchable thirst, but it seemed that was an extremely unlikely .

“We’re almost there. Ignore these assholes, press on through the next platform—get into the air lock, cycle, we’re pretty much home free.”




Fortunately, the Sentinel was taken with Ohm. It released its pent up frustration on her in an onslaught of tentacles, whipping and slashing with an unadulterated ferocity. Succeeding each buffet Ohm felt her stamina wane and the tendrils attacked in quicker succession. One caught her shoulder and tore her morphsuit. Underneath her flesh was rent, but the skin that was unscathed sported intricate, geometrical tattoos that glowed like the ley lines running up and down their battleground.

Much to Ohm’s chagrin, the sentinel’s reach was just like that of humans’—far, and destructive. She intercepted a lash, landing square next to Mordecai after severing one of the tentacles with her lance. As it squealed, she exhaled, draped Mordecai’s arm over her shoulder and whisked him to the mezzanine. Fortunately his extraction was swift, but she feared his injury may be worse than anticipated. While the sentinel recovered—regenerating its tentacle as more sera guardians flooded in through the gates—she touched his chest, gently. “’Heard’?” she scoffed. “You don’t listen well at all. This one has directed that she would bear the brunt of its aggression.” She gestured to the armor on her shoulders—the pauldrons were eked from some sort of twisted space metal.

“Incorrigible.”

As she laid him there, she clambered down, berating the creature with slashes and quick hits to its sides. She knew that its resolve wouldn’t falter without assistance. Although its health was waning Ohm knew it would only summon more of its minions to bolster its defenses. Enraged, she buried her lance’s head into eridian’s neck, climbing as it wailed at her. “You know not what you do, Entropic one,” it repeated, “Your resolve belongs to us.”

“Unlikely.”

She straddled its long, slender neck, driving the claws on her gauntlet underneath its mask. It hissed, like the sound of hot steam escaping a vent. She lifted it, but not easily. Years of hardworked tendon and nerves were glued to the material. She severed pink film of flesh with her claws, exposing the entirety of the eridian’s face. It was twisted, putrid and ultimately, vulnerable. “Kill it!” she screamed.