The sky is clear above her. She knows it was overcast a moment ago, but the clouds have all fled.
Fled from the enormous, venomously pale full moon glaring down at her.
She can't look away, can't see what she's leaving behind her. The moon comes closer - but no, that's not it. She is falling up into it, unable to stop herself, but something tells her she wouldn't stop even if she could.
The moon becomes a giant red eye, its gaze piercing through her. Something vast and incomprehensive stares straight into the very core of her being, and is about to sweep her aside, crush her like an annoying gnat.
But it can't.
The attempt leaves her body crushed and broken, but it doesn't matter. Not here, not now.
Ears ringing, she continues to rise towards it.
The inhuman entity above focuses its attention. This time, she bears the full strength of its fury. An irresistible force descends on her.
And yet she resists it, and though it leaves her on hands and knees, she refuses to fall.
A voice echoes in her head, far off and distorted. She can't make out a single word in the blanket of noise. But she can tell that the first voice is joined by another, and then yet another.
Her body lacks strength. In any normal time and place, this would be the end.
But not here. In this time and this place, she can get by on will alone. And the distant, far-off voices, powerless on their own, fill her with hope and determination.
She stands up.
The moon becomes a golden egg, waiting to hatch, and she knows that whatever lies inside it can not be allowed to be born.
Another voice adds to the chorus in her head. Another. And another.
She can't hear what they say.
(OM)
But then a single voice rings out above the noise.
(MANI)
"All right. Let's do this."
(PADME)
Strength floods back into her shattered body.
(HUM)
She wakes up.
The rain is the first thing she hears. The endless smattering rain, a sound that seems to gnaw away at the edges of her mind, just as the water erodes the stone it falls on.
The floor is cold and wet underneath her, and the blanket is heavy over her shoulders.
Her left arm burns. Throbbing and aching, a sharp and angry sensation, like red-hot needles piercing skin, muscle and straight into the bone.
She shivers as she begins to pull herself up on her knees. Feels sick - tastes blood, not unfamiliar, but much stronger than it should be.
She runs her tongue over the gash in her lower lip. She must have caught it on a tooth when she fell.
The rich, coppery taste of blood fills her mouth. Her vision grows hazy for a moment, and she realizes that she's hungry.
Her stomach turns, and she clamps her hands over her mouth, as if that would help resist the urge to throw up.
What - has just happened?
Her left arm burns.
She glances down. Shakes her head, looks again - but the vision remains. Halfway between shoulder and elbow sits a mark, an ugly black brand of a grinning mask with empty eyes and knife-like teeth. A starburst lies behind it, sharp points in all directions. The image is divided lengthwise, each side an inverted mirror image of the other, but otherwise in perfect symmetry.
She has never seen the mark before, and yet it is terrifyingly familiar.
Familiar and wrong.
She shudders and turns away.
...Something has changed.
Not just her skin. Something deeper than that. There is something inside her that wasn't there before.
She can not explain why it feels so old, like a piece of her that's been missing for the past - She can't put a number to it, but it has been gone for a long time.
All she knows is that it wants out.
She can't explain it. Nor can she explain why thinking about it has her clutching her gun, the barrel raised to point at her head, before she even knows what she's doing.
No, she thinks as she re-holsters the weapon. Not that. Not here-
There is no explanation as to what that means, either.
A thought strikes her. The binoculars still lie where she dropped them. She picks them up and turns them on the impact site.
There is nothing there. The anomaly - whatever it was - is gone. Her tribe is -
She fumbles for the radio with one hand, still clutching the binoculars with the other. Thumbs the sender to all frequencies and requests a status update.
The only thing she gets in return is static.
How long was she out? It is impossible to tell. Unsteadily, she drags herself up, takes a first unsteady step towards the elevator.
She tries to concentrate on breathing on the way down. The elevator, rusted despite constant maintenance, jerks and sways, even more than on the way up.
She reaches the bottom and steps out into the rain again. The base seems deserted. Even with most of the tribe gone, it feels emptier than it should be.
She reaches for her gun. Hesitates, not sure if she can trust herself to handle it the way she should, but she has no other choice.
Despite her misgivings, her hand remains steady, the weight of the weapon almost comforting. Still, her finger rests directly on the trigger. It's against the rules, but the rules no longer apply. Not after this.
She finds the next sentry, the closest to her position. Another fresh recruit, like herself. Young. Male. She doesn't know his name. It's not as if it matters.
They both raise their weapons at the first sign of movement. Stare at each other for several seconds before they lower them again.
She finally holsters her gun, tension easing a little with the discovery of another living being. "What just happened?"
The answer is disappointing, but expected. "I do not know."
They stand in silence for a few moments.
"Does your radio work?"
He examines it. "Yes."
"Contact Gale."
She doesn't know why she gives the orders, or why he follows them. All that matter is that she does, and that he does.
The young recruit can not describe the situation beyond the obvious - the light, then unconsciousness. The call is brief, and when it ends, he looks up at her with his dull, grey eyes.
"We are to gather all survivors and await their return."
She nods and heads back outside. With no radio of her own, she can not help him, and obtaining a replacement would take too long. Instead she wanders aimlessly, until she finds herself back in the main building, out of the rain.
Another pang of hunger tears at her insides. She finds the vendor and takes a ration, dry, tasteless nutrition that provides everything a fighting body needs.
It's not enough, and she glances down at her ring, uncertain. Resources are awarded for efficiency, and she has had precious little time to shine. Her credits are barely enough to keep her going for now, but the hunger does not subside.
In the end, she gives in. The second ration feels even more tasteless, feels thick and repulsive in her mouth, and though she eats until she feels she is about to throw up, it still leaves a desire for more.
No, not desire. A need for more. She feels weakness tearing at her, claws inside her stomach.
Not hungry, but ravenous.
She pockets the remaining scraps of the ration - can't afford to waste it, no matter how much the situation weighs on her mind. Then she heads back out and waits.
One by one, the remaining sentries join her, and they stand by the entrance in silence.
For the first time that she can remember, she feels impatient. It's a thorny, unpleasant feeling, one she cannot shake. Not until the leader returns does it finally subside.
Accompanied by most of the warriors who followed him out, Serph passes them in silence, flanked by his strategist and lieutenants.
And one more.
Cradled in Heat's arms, wrapped in his cloak - just as she was not long ago - lies a small, pale form with black hair.
And somehow, everything that has happened up until now suddenly feels entirely insignificant.
