Romulus did not run.

He never ran.

But he moved quickly.

The corridor lights flickered in uneven pulses, bathing the steel halls in alternating bands of gold and shadow. Somewhere deeper in the station, something screamed—cut short, wet, and final. The Quantum Ring was failing. He could feel it in the air, like pressure behind the eyes. Reality itself stuttering.

“Stay quiet,” he muttered.

A small shape trembled beneath his cloak.

Constantine peeked out—two wide, luminous eyes and a soft, quivering chirp. The creature’s form rippled slightly, like it wasn’t fully committed to existing. It clung tighter to Romulus’ chest.

“I know,” Romulus whispered, softer now. “I don’t like it either.”

The sound came again.

Clicking.

Not mechanical. Not quite alive.

Romulus slowed.

At the intersection ahead, something skittered across the wall—too many limbs, too fast. An Aberrant. Its silhouette bent the light as it moved, folding in on itself before disappearing into a ventilation shaft.

Constantine let out a tiny, panicked squeak.

Romulus placed two fingers gently over the creature’s head. “Easy.”

They moved again.

Step. Step. Silence.

Then—

A shadow dropped from the ceiling.

Romulus pivoted instantly. His blade was already in motion before the thing fully landed. Steel met chitin with a sharp crack as the Aberrant shrieked, its limbs thrashing wildly. He didn’t hesitate—one clean strike, then another. It collapsed in a twitching heap.

Constantine buried his face into Romulus’ chest.

“It’s gone,” Romulus said, though he didn’t take his eyes off the body. “You’re fine.”

A low, rumbling growl echoed from further down the hall.

Romulus exhaled slowly.

“Of course there’s more.”

The Marauder emerged from the darkness—a towering, insectoid horror, its form dragging lesser shapes behind it. Its mandibles clicked, tasting the air. It hadn’t seen them yet.

Romulus didn’t engage.

He turned.

Quiet. Controlled. Precise.

They slipped into a side corridor, the sound of the Marauder’s pack echoing just beyond the wall. Constantine peeked out again, trembling, letting out a soft, questioning chirp.

“Yes,” Romulus murmured. “We are absolutely avoiding that.”

The station groaned.

Somewhere far above, something massive shifted. Gravity flickered for half a second—just enough for loose debris to lift, hang, then slam back down.

Constantine yelped and clung tighter.

Romulus adjusted his grip, steadying both of them. “Hold on.”

They reached the final corridor.

The door ahead.

Almost there.

Then—

A whisper.

Not sound. Not movement.

Intent.

Romulus froze.

Behind him.

He didn’t turn his head, but his eyes shifted slightly, catching the faint distortion in the air. Cloaked. Watching. Waiting.

An assassin.

Constantine made a tiny, frightened noise.

Romulus’ voice dropped to a breath. “Don’t move.”

A heartbeat.

Two.

Then Romulus stepped forward—not running, not panicking—just enough to break the moment.

The assassin struck.

Romulus was already gone.

A blur of motion, a deflection, a flash of steel. The corridor rang with the clash, but it was brief—too brief. The assassin recoiled, momentarily thrown off.

Romulus didn’t press the attack.

He moved.

Fast now.

The door was right there.

Behind him, footsteps.

More than one.

Not the assassin this time.

Romulus didn’t look back.

He reached the door, Constantine clinging tight, the station screaming around them—

—and slipped through just as the sound of pursuit closed in behind him.

The door sealed.

And on the other side…

You arrive.

Did you fail?  (Solo or Cooperative)

Apply your scars, spend or bank any earned points and try again!

Did you fail?  (Competetive)

Apply your scars and move on to Mission 3