Author Note: Sorry about not updating in so long. But my wrists suddenly started aching two weeks ago and I had to give them time to rest and heal before I put them through any more rigorous activity.You must alays rest and allow your body to heal after a tough workout. If you don't... well that's what causes repetitive stress injuries.

625 stared at the screen for how long he couldn't tell. Possibly it had been hours but he had spaced so much that not even his super-brain could tell what time it was. A gunshot fired through the chamber alerting him back to reality. No, it was a gunshot sound from the screen. 625 blinked and shook his head. The image of the highly improbable seventies spy serial still flickered on the screen. It must've been a marathon.

625 was back to his senses now. A glance over at the chronometer above the screen read 866-348-025-71, all in green Turian base sixteen numbers. A microsecond's worth of calculations converted the time into five forty two in the morning on whatever date it was currently. He looked back at the screen, back at mission unstoppable.

Once again the heroes were facing down their arch enemy Dr. MacMurdock. The evil doctor laughed waving about his graying red hair sticking straight like the end of a broom. His lab coat and golden tie blew backward in the wind revealing all but the jacket of a luxurious navy themed dress suit. 625 couldn't figure tell what was stupider, that hairdo, or the fact that his coat and tie were blowing in the wind even though he was in a fully enclosed room with no fans. The heroes, the toothpick of a wannabe pimp with the blonde afro and the black bodybuilder with the shades and locks had their hand bound and tied together behind a pole extending from the ceiling. The small metal grate platform they stood on at the end of the pole hovered just feet above a large glass pit filled with tarantulas.

"The Red Kneed Tarantula is the most venomous, most aggressive of all the species." Dr. MacMurdock said in his impossibly fake Russian accent, not even matching his name, more Scottish than deep fried Mars Bars.

625 wasn't sure if the Red Kneed Tarantula even existed. And if it did, it probably wasn't very venomous, or aggressive for that matter.

"You will make the most delicious meal for my babies." Dr MacMurdock continued. "Then nothing will stand between me and the secret UFO files of Fort Knox! Hah! Hah! Haaah! I wish you both good day."

Dr. MacMurdock walked away into the shadows, the phantom wind blowing his coat back the whole time.

The pole the heroes were tied to bean to lower into the pits. The spiders started to get restless.

"We gotta' stop that wack-ass mo-fo before he can build his death ray!" Shouted the white guy in his mind bogglingly erroneous jive. "how we gonna' get out a' this pit man?"

"Don't you worry 'bout a thing baby." The black guy answered in a slightly more realistic accent. "Luckily for the both of us I mastered backwards rope climbin' in high school."

UFO files of Fort Knox? Backwards rope climbing? The cheese was so thick you could probably make nachos out of the mood. 625 giggled to himself some more as the pole lowered down further into the tank of spiders and the black guy tried to make himself look like he wasn't being pulled up by strings.

Then the shot cut to a close up of one of the scurrying Red Kneeds, the segmented body, the long numerous legs the way it crawled and its spikey hair. 625's heart stopped for a moment when he saw that thing. The show's resolution was so bad that they looked like orange and black blobs from the previous shots. But now he saw one close up. Suddenly he could hear the rattling all around him. He could feel the things crawling on him. The indistinguishable smell of burning copper that they carried with them. He was inside a rusted air vent with those things crawling all over him. Their dozen glowing green eyes and their three arm like mouthparts each splitting into three pronged pincers at the ends. Those things that did this to him, he was back with them. But he was back only for a second before finally realizing the image in front of him only vaguely resembled those creatures. He hit the remote control stuck to the seat by dried soda next to him. The remote shattered, but it had the desired effect. The screen went to static and then shut down.

The breath was stolen from 625's lungs. He became dizzy. He felt so cold. Even his insides were cold. All his hairs stood on end and his hands gripped the arms of the chair so hard that he crushed them. The things, whatever they were, bared only a superficial resemblance to Red Kneed Tarantulas, it was enough to send him into a flashback. Even after the fact, his panic soaked through to the bone.

625's stomach gurgled. He blinked his eyes and his heart began to slow down.

"I need a sandwich." He whispered to himself.

625 leaned forward and let the weight of his body pull him from the chair. His butt pealed off the glue of dried soda and crumbs. He flopped onto the floor quickly righting himself. The fur on his backside was sticky, matted, and laced with crumbs from the bottom of his shoulder blades down to the backs of his knees. It was a disgusting feeling, but 625 didn't care. He was used to it.

The shutter on the window flipped open automatically as 625 tapped his claws against it. He lifted his head up to look outside. Clouds covered the skies pouring rain down into the little pond trapping the now derelict ship he lived in. 625 quickly took a bite of his baked roast beef, swiss and dijon on sourdough before looking back out the window.

Lightning struck the tip of a cliff about a hundred yards away. The ships hull rattled from the thunder and the light was bright enough to blind most humans. 625 didn't bat an eyelid at the sudden lightning strike. Instead he gave an apathetic burp before tossing the rest of the sandwich in his mouth and swallowing after only four chews.

625 lay his elbows on the windowsill and rested his chin on them, looking out into the storm. The rain was intense. Lighting flashed several times in a minute. It was just like that day, the day that changed his life. 625 bit his lip as a single tear fell from his right eye soaking the fur beneath. Of all the things from his former life he had to remember tonight, why couldn't it have been this one that he could just pass up? The rain still came down to remind him of it. 625 could hear every single drop on the surface of the hull and isolate the exact location of each one, giving himself a perfect mental 3D image of the ships exterior. However much he wanted not to relive those events, he stayed at the window staring out into the storm. The fuzzy images started to clear up.

The rain came down so hard 625 felt like he was being tossed through a cylinder with thousands of stones. But even if he was tossed with boulders it wouldn't hurt him. It was the wetness he hated, especially the cold wetness. The storm passing through the tip of the smallest continent on Quelta Quan was the nastiest seen in a long time and had knocked out several sensor stations along the coast. Jumba insisted it was the perfect cover for 625's latest mission. 625 thought it was just an excuse for Jumba to torment him, which he suspected the maniacal scientist enjoyed very much.

Only his fully enclosed suit protected him from the rain. What it looked like didn't really matter since it rendered him partially invisible. 625 dashed up the surface of the cliff on all fours appearing only as a slight distortion in the light, and in this kind of weather, no one would notice that anyway.

Only his paws were uncovered. They had to be since that was the only way he could climb such slippery surfaces. He didn't like it in the least since it meant getting his paws wet and cold. But at least the rest of him was dry under that suit.

625 climbed atop the cliff and scanned around in infrared. The facility was just off in the distance. It was a plain square building covered in blue vines with jelly filled bulbs. It was old and decrepit. It had been abandoned for the past ten years. But there was still a sensor tower sticking up out of the roof and guards patrolling the perimeter. It was so closely guarded because of what was inside, an immensely powerful nuclear accelerator couple with a fusion based magnet, the only type powerful enough to control what it created.

625 recalled Jumba's briefing.

"Back during days of contractings under Galactic Federation," Jumba said. "Galaxy defense Industries had developed prototype of powerful new weapons system, the HyperGlow. A Gamma Ray Lazer capable of penetrating any known form of strong force shielding. Is still being kept in old lab where developed."

"Why didn't they remove it and take it to a more secure location?" 625 asked.

"Hah! Hah! Only I am knowing 625. Was being kept in place because of locking mechanism designed by me."

"You worked on it?"

"I was part being of primary design team. Locking mechanism is such that if it were to be unsuccessfully hack-ed, fusion chamber would be releasing tsunami of ultra-violet hot plasma throughout facility. But fortunately I can give you base formulas for to have been used for current locking sequences."

"I'm assuming that means the place is under heavy guard?"

"Of course, but that will be being not a problem for a being such as 625."

625 pressed a tiny button on the side of his faceplate with the tip of his claw. In a flash, hundreds of pages of mathematical jargon all to create the single most complicated fractal design he had ever seen. Even his super brain had trouble grasping all of its intricacies. The fractal was used to create the locking mechanism that held the HyperGlow firmly in place atop the Fusion reactor connected to it. A single wrong move and the containment on the reactor would drop and he would get the scorching of his life. but 625 had never made a mistake before, and wasn't planning to start any time soon.

The jargon disappeared after a moment and 625 focused his eyes, zooming in on the abandoned fortress. There were only four guards, all of that short lizard like race, the one that almost inevitably produced soldiers. They stood their ground in their ground at the front entrance in their cream suits and little rifles. The front gate was the only way in or out. Jumba told him this. There was only four of them though, a tribute to the storm. Jumba was smarter than he came off as. There was no way he could sneak by. If he tried to fight them they'd sound the alarm and then the mission would be a failure. How was he going to get past them? It all came back to the golden rule. What was the easiest possible way of getting inside? In this case the easiest possible way of getting inside was strapped to his back.

625 ran across the rocky ground in great leaps, faster than most race animals could sprint. The sensor tower atop the fortress started its sweep. The orb atop the tower glowed a pale red. It would trip the alarm if it sensed any unauthorized approach. 625's suit protected him from light and thermal detection, but the tower could se through his disguise, but even in could be fooled. 625 landed and flattened himself against the ground. A tap to a second button on his faceplate send a tiny electric charge through a needle sticking from the suit straight into 625's spinal cord. All of 625's sensed instantly went blank. He could not see, feel, hear, touch, taste, or receive any kind of signal through his antennae. Still conscious though, he counted eight seconds.

The orb on top of the fortress flashed bright white for a split second, sending out a wave of energy across the land and through the air. The wave hit 625 and bounced right back at the orb. 625's pulse had ceased along with his breathing. The signal obtained by the sensor tower was that of a small plant or fungus. Even though it wasn't there before, the limited AI of the tower would draw no conclusions from it.

The eighths second went by in 625's mind. The tiny electrical charge stopped and senses slowly came back. Blurry, static, tingle, but after another ten seconds they were acute again. 625 jumped up and continued his mad dash toward the fortress. The rain cascaded down onto his suit like a waterfall. The wind knocked down small trees. Lightning flashed every few seconds, often hitting the sensor tower. But that would do him no good. It was insulated and reinforced. It didn't matter though. In less than a minute 625 would be at the front entrance, closer than the shortest range of the tower's sensors.

Light conversation was made at the front gate, none of the guards thinking anything of what was about to happen.

"But you didn't answer my question." One of the reptilians spoke up over the rain and through his faceplate. "What do you think of the Galaxy Defense scandal?"

"I'm trying not to think of it." Another answered. "I'm on their payroll aren't I?"

"What about you Xager? You've been quiet this whole time." The first one asked again, motioning this time toward a third.

"I think it was just a few unscrupulous researchers bent on doing it just because they can. It was probably done behind Jumba's back too. I mean, with a pres. and CEO as anally scrupulous as Dr. Hamsterveil there's no way they'd have an entire sub-company devoted solely to bio-weapons."

"Yeah? And I've got a star system to sell you." A fourth suddenly interrupted. "I haven't trusted that rat thing ever since I saw his picture in the briefs. There's just something about that leer of his. The man is psychotic I know it."

There was a splat in the mud. All four of the guards spun around and pointed their rifles forward into the blinded rain.

"Who's there!" The first guard shouted out.

Even without his suit 625 would be invisible from the intense storm. But he wanted to be seen. Circumstance was at his advantage in that these guards were not being told what it was they were guarding. Only the highest members of the Grand Council, Bureau, Office, and Committee knew of what was being kept here. The Grand Tribunal was completely in the dark. By the time anyone even realized this thing was gone it would be too late.

625 whacked his forearms together and he faded into opacity. He stepped forward into visibility. The guards moved forward with their guns poised on him.

"This area is under military quarantine by the United Galactic Federation." The first guard barked. "Unauthorized personnel are strictly prohibited. You will submit to search and escort or be arrested."

625 unclamped the locks on his neck. His helmet fell into pieces and fell on the ground.

"Oh believe me I'm authorized to be here." 625 spoke so smugly.

"Under who's authority?"

"My friend's here. I think you'll find him in this box."

625 unclamped more locks around his waist and the metal briefcase on his back dropped to the ground. The case was opened. The guards looked inside.

"Oh my god!" One exclaimed.

"Are those real?" asked another.

"Yeah. They're real, there's no mistaking it those are the real things."

The briefcase was packed full of tiny cut stones, stones that even in this darkness caught enough light to glow. Each face shined in a completely different color.

"There's two hundred million in Etherite sitting right in front of you boys." 625 siad, looking at his fingernails as if nothing could possibly go wrong. "That's fifty mil for each of you. Ten times what most people make in a lifetime. It's enough for each of you to retire.

The door slammed shut behind 625. He smiled his haughty smile and laid his hands on his hips, nodding his head on yet another example of brilliance in simplicity. Bribary was the oldest tactic in the history of espionage, and it was still the most effective. As soon as the last trace of wind from outside had ceased 625's smile turned into scream as he dropped to the floor and rolled around swiping all four hands through his fur.

625's head was soaked and he hated it with a passion. If there was one thing he hated more than being wet, it was being wet and cold. 625 stood back up.

"I-Hate-Being-Wet!" He shouted, hitting his palm against an ear with the start of each new word.

"I-Hate-Being-Wet!" He shouted again, hitting his other palm against his other ear with the start of each new word.

625 shook his head to dislodge the last of the excess water. It made the fur on his head stand on end. Two more clamps released and the entire suit, as well as the need once stuck into his spine, fell apart leaving 625 in his plain fur, witch the exception of a comm. still attached to his left ear. 625 tapped the side of the comm.

"Jumba, I'm inside."

From the comfort of his lab on the other side of the planet, Jumba sat at his desk in his office and gazed into a monitor showing everything 625 saw. 624 sat on the desk itself, she too gazing into the monitor.

"Being very excellent 625." Jumba replied. "Inside of laboratory is abandoned. No one is being allowed inside."

"Seems the security's been majorly lazed what with so few people actually knowing how important it is to protect this place." 625 said right back. "By the way is Pink there?"

"Do you really have to ask that question?" Came the lightest of voices that never failed to tickle the back of 625's neck. "You know I can never get enough of seeing you in action."

That Tantalog voice made 625 jitter and smile. In every time she ever tried to give him that feeling, not once has she failed. 624 was watching, and she was using her sweet voice. 625 knew he had better make this fantastic.

"I'll get back to you as soon as I'm done unlocking the HyperGlow. 625 out."

625 released his nail from the comm. Now was his first chance to really look around this building. The chamber was large and square. Old computers, sensor and drafting machines littered the room, none of them functional. They were all covered in some kind of glasslike resin. There were no lights except what little came from the few working monitors flickering static. But that was enough for 625 to see. Dust hung in the air like a translucent carpet. Almost everything was either broken or too worn to work anymore. Most of it was covered in some kind of glass like resin. 625 sniffed the air. It was stale and musty, along with the scent of many oxidized metals. But there was something else. The smell of the resin was organic. Something alive had coated all of the equipment with it. It could only mean strange animals came to call this place home. Something about this place made him nervous. He didn't know what, but his instincts had never failed him before. He took a few steps forward. The rattling started, as if someone was shaking a bottle full of tiny wooden cubes. It was over in just the next instant.

625 stopped at put his nail back to the comm.

"What was that?" 625 spoke hurriedly.

"That is being sound of anxiety by scythera. Your presence is uneasing them." Jumba answered. "It seems they have been making mondo home of old lab."

"What the hell are scythera?" 625 whispered in almost a panic.

"Are nothing to be worrying about. Are nothing more than harmless, mildly venomous, arthropodic predtators with trichotomous anatomy."

"What do they prey on?"

"Smaller arthropods."

"Is that where all the glasslike stuff is coming from?"

"Is that which is to be used for forming artificial cave structures for to use as sleeping areas."

"Your not scared are you?" 624 interrupted.

"No!" 625 shouted back. "Just a little… disconcerted that's all."

"I wasn't trying to insult you. I agree, those things sound frightening. I sure as hell wouldn't want to be where you are now."

"Thanks… that makes me feel better."

625 took his nail off of the comm. "Yeah right." He whispered.

625 started walking. The rattling started up again, one at first, then two, then three. Soon he was able to count seven different sources of the lacking noise. It got louder the faster he moved, and stopped when he stopped moving. He wanted to just freeze so the sound would stop altogether. He knew the exact location of each one that was making noise, and from that he could gather that he was surrounded by these things, these scythera. Each one hid in its own small crevice, not daring to wander out into the open. There were seven that made noise. But how many were there that weren't? If he changed to his thermal vision he could find out, but he didn't want to know. He walked as slowly as he reasonably could, just to keep that skin crawling rattling down to a minimum. He tried to take some comfort in the fact that they were making that noise because he was scaring them. But it didn't do much good. Soon 625 came to his target.

Just a few meters above him was the covering of an air vent. 625 looked up. Nothing was in his way between the vent and himself.

"Is being vent that leads directly to central chamber containing Hyperglow." Jumba spoke through the comm. "Must be climbing inside and using it."

"Will those things be inside of it?" 625 asked.

"Most likely. But they are being harmless."

"Try telling that to my numbed up feet."

625 tapped on the wall. The rattling came from inside the vent. The sounds blended into each other. An exact count was impossible, but 625 figured the number must be in the dozens, if not well over a hundred.

625 felt light so light headed he thought he was going to fall over. His stomach rolled at the sound and his hands and face clenched themselves involuntarily. 625 took a deep breath as he placed two hands on the wall.

"Harmless." He whispered as he took step after step, each one creating a wave of rattling from the vent. "Harmless invertebrates with trichotomous anatomy. They rattle because I scare them. I scare them. I'm stronger than them. Harmless, midly venomous…"

625 shuttered at that last comment. "Don't say that again you idiot."

625 climbed all the way up peered through the grill of the vent. The rattling became more intense than it ever was previously. 625 froze in place. After a minute or so, the rattling died down.

"Harmless… little… arthropods…"

625reached up and lifted the cover from its vent, and dropped it to the floor. The impact triggered more rattling. It came from everywhere at once, including… right next to his ear.

625 turned his head and finally saw what made the sound. It stared right at him, propped all the way up as far as its legs could push it to look threatening. It didn't need the display. 625's heart stopped, this time on its own as he stared into those nine eyes in their triangle figure, three to a side.

Its head was almost three centimeters across, covered on the top with tiny thorns. Its mouth just below the eyes was a triangle just like the eyes themselves, with a folded limb sticking out of each side. The head itself was a triangle, and attached to the two sides facing back were side by side fat bodies that thinned into tails with stingers at their ends poised right at 625's eyes. Three legs jutted from the underside of the creatures front, along with six more that jutted in threes from each of its two tails.

One look at 625 and the scythera unfolded the limbs lining its mouth into three sections, the last of which ended in three pronged pincers. The pincers beat open and shut in a blur of speed making the rattling 625 hated so much.

625 screamed and fell off the edge of the vent. He curled his ball form as soon as he hit the ground. Rattling everywhere. Thousands of them, together they sounded like a firestorm. He felt them. He felt them dropping from above onto him. Their legs ended in barbs that gripped his flesh just before they jumped off and scurried away to find better hiding places. They all landed right on top of him, five to ten at a time. They tumbled over each other, over him trying to find a secure foothold to leap from. 625 could neither count the number that were there or how long the waterfall of scythera lasted. He didn't want to. All he knew was that there were hundreds of them, and that the downpour of them seemed to last forever. They bounced off him. They stuck their legs in his ears, in between his toes, and on far more personal areas. 625 wasn't even aware that his entire body had gone numb, that his heart rate was so high it would've killed a weaker being, that he bit down on his legs so hard that he was bleeding into his mouth.

At long last they stopped. The legs were poking him no more. The rattling was fading into the distance. 625 kept himself in his ball, so afraid of what? He was afraid of the static screaming into his right ear. But as his heart slowed, and his body became less tightened, the static started become coherent.

"What did they do to you? Are you OK baby? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Speak to me! Answer me please."

It was 624 talking to him through the comm. As panicked as he still was, he was not about to let her share in it.

"I'm fine!" 625 screamed like a child being tortured.

625 unrolled and plopped down on the ground trying to recatch his breath. Only then did he notice the taste of blood in his mouth. His ankles were warm and wet. He must've bit down on them harder than he realized. 625 lifted his hand to his face and saw it covered in the glasslike film.

"Ahhhggg!" 25 screamed again, rolling around, trying to pick off the film from his body and throw it anywhere away from himself. The stuff stuck to him like cling wrap.

"625! Answering me now!" Jumba shouted.

"There's no way in hell I'm going back in there!" 625 shouted back.

"All scythera are gone. Is being safe now."

"Yeah. Well I wanna' be sureof that first."

625 pulled the comm. out of his ear and threw it inside the vent. It bounced around the sides making quite a racket. But no rattling came from within.

"Ohh god… I guess I'm going to have to do it now."

A palm hit open the grating of an air vent. It flew across the room. 625 jumped head first out of the opening and landed his head on the floor below. He jumped back up and scrambled about trying desperately to dislodge all the film that wrapped around his body several times which he accumulated in his trip through the ducts.

625 threw the last ball of clingy film at the wall and hunched over breathing heavily.

"625, are you listening?" Jumba said over comm. "You are at HyperGlow chamber."

625 stood up straight and looked around. The room was a great dome. He had landed just on the edge of the walkway surrounding it. He looked over the sides. The floor dropped almost a hundred meters until it stopped in an extreme tinted polymer. 625 could see the huge glowing orb within the fusion chamber through the tinted polymer. He looked up. There it was! On an island floating in the middle of the room was a small clear dome held to the island with what looked to be fluffy cotton candy. It was the locking mechanism. It was as soft as cotton candy, but one error in dismantling it and it would cut the circuit to the reactor's containment field. Beneath the clear dome was the HyperGlow. It looked rather plain for something so extraordinary, like a normal, single barrel ship mounted cannon, unpainted of course. Whatever the case, 625 needed to get that thing out of that dome and carry it far away from the fortress.

Metal ropes extending from the walkway held aloft the island, that and a column of tubing running from the center of the island down to the reactor. 625 grabbed the tubing and climbed it toward the island. The rope was oxidized and pieces black crust fell off landing on the polymer floor below. 625 climbed faster, trying to beat the now crumbling rope to the central island. The rope snapped. 625 dove forward and grabbed the edge of the island. He quickly flipped himself forward onto the grate floor.

625 looked down to find his toe almost touching the cotton candy like structure surrounding the dome.

"Wow! That was close." 624 said through the comm.

"You could say that again." 625 answered.

"So do you think you can do this?"

"If not, I hope you like your men well done."

After scooting his foot back from the lock, 625 looked up and thought back to what Jumba told him about how to disassemble it.

"The locking mechanism is quite complex." Jumba exclaimned. "But is also very soft. Lightest of touching can be damaging it."

"Of course we all know what happens then." 625 answered. "So how to I unlock it."

"Lock must be disassembled at nanovisual level. I have bought for you simple deconstructive nanomachines for task. You must be continuously programming them for to accomplish task correctly. Be studying fractal designs for lock very carefully 625, must be doing this correctly or else."

625 hit his stomach and coughed up a tiny keyboard and screen, along with what looked to be a tiny pen. They landed at his feet.

Immediately 625 went to work. He hooked the screen to the keyboard and pressed the button on the back of the pen. A mist sprayed out of the tip and floated down onto the fuzz below.

625 typed furiously on the keyboard, programming and reprogramming the behavior of the nanos in the mist to take apart the lock in an infinitesimally precise manner. The entire fractal design was ingrained in his head, all he had to do now was make sense of it. It wasn't an easy task, not even for 625, but it was one he was managing.

"Only a few more pages of code to change." 625 whispered to himself, altering a single path of code for the sixth time. His fingers moved so fast even his own eyes had trouble keeping up with them. "Done!

625 looked up and saw the fuzz breaking apart strand by strand, evaporating into a green smoke with the smell of ammonia and burning plastic. All the tiny details had been taken care of. That meant that there was no more reprogramming to do. He could sit back and watch the fuzzy lock slowly evaporate.

But then the rattling came back. This time there were not hundreds, but thousands. Possibly there were tens of thousands. But something was different. It was distant and it came from all directions at once. Where was it all coming from? And what was causing it?

It was the smell. The smell of ammonia and burning plastic from the evaporating lock was setting them off. But the smoke could only reach a small space. They had to be packed so tight that if one went off it would trigger a domino effect. But where were they? The smoke was drifting straight up so that's the only place they could be.

The ceiling. The ceiling seemed solid, it was too dark to make out any movement, but 625 knew what had to be. The entire ceiling was covered with scythera. They had to packed probably fifty or more per square meter.

625 blinked his eyes and saw the ceiling in infrared.

There were not thousands, not hundreds of thousands, but millions of them, scythera on top of scythera. It looked like a convulsing carpet, and every last one of them were clacking their pincers making that godawful noise. 625 did the first thing that came to mind.

"Aaahhhhhhgggggg!"

He screamed louder than he'd ever screamed before. The scream startled them. That triggered the landslide.

Every last one of them dropped from the ceiling. 625 looked straight up in shock only thinking how this must be like being trapped under a collapsing building. They fell. 625 hunched over and covered his head as the mass of them landed right ontop of him. On top of him, and on top of the still evaporating lock, tearing it to bits.

The next thing 625 knew, he was engulfed in a blinding purple light and a searing pain unlike any he'd ever experienced or even imagined. Everything disintegrated in the light. The comm., walkway, the island, the Hyperglow, and the Scythera were all reduced to ash in an instant.