Page 47 of Stars in Nova

The planet’s atmosphere hit him next, a rush of turbulence and heat that rattled the craft. Outside, the air was thick with smoke and ash, the scent of burning vegetation and scorched earth seeping into his cabin.

He descended, the remnants of the once-thriving ecosystem becoming evident. Rivers of fire snaked across the surface, consuming everything in their path.

Entire forests had been reduced to smoldering skeletons, their blackened trunks reaching skyward like bony fingers.

The remains of lakes had evaporated into vast, cracked basins, their edges littered with debris.

In the distance, gigantic capital ships floated in low orbit, their hulls ancient and scarred. More vessels sat in ruin on the ground, their massive forms surrounded by clusters of smaller machines. The air vibrated with the roar of engines.

Kisan piloted the flyer into a narrow valley, its jagged walls providing cover from the chaos above. He powered down the craft, keeping its stealth cloak on.

The cockpit fell silent, save for the hiss of cooling mechanisms and the quiet rhythm of his breathing.

He stepped out, the heat of the planet’s atmosphere bearing down.

He sent a quick command, and instinctively, his body began to adapt to the hostile environment, and his metanoids responded.

His suit’s skin shimmered, its texture shifting and hardening like steel to deflect potential threats. It likewise stealthed with a shimmer, shielding him from view.

Each plate also adjusted, becoming flame-retardant, its material designed to withstand searing temperatures.

The valley’s topography was twisted, with cracked earth and jagged rocks. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of burning metal.

Kisan advanced with caution, his boots crunching against the scorched ground. The growl of industry and relentless equipment pummeled his eardrums as he approached the ridge, and when he reached the edge, he froze.

Below, an army of cyborgs stretched across the landscape, their forms a grotesque fusion of flesh and machinery.

Their limbs were replaced with steel, uneven implants obscured face features, and their bodies were glowing with eerie, artificial light.

They moved with mechanical precision, their ranks forming lines that disappeared into the horizon. Fires burned around them, consuming what little life remained on the planet.

Kisan’s chest tightened, a rush of dread and despair washing over him.

The sight dredged up memories he’d buried deep, flashes of the research facility where he’d been tortured. Where the silver-cloaked Crats had torn him apart and rebuilt him piece by piece.

Their cold, emotionless faces loomed in his mind. He was gripped by old recollections, groaning at the agony, at reliving the horror of the sterile scent of a lab mingling with mangled flesh and fresh blood.

His.

He staggered back, his breath hitching.

The edges of his vision blurred, the present and past colliding in a maelstrom of terror.

He groaned and fell to one knee, sliding to his side alongside a rock-hewn crevice as everything went black.

When Kisan jerked to wakefulness, the valley was silent save forthe remote crunch of machinery.

The Rider raised himself on one elbow and leaned on the cracked boulder, breaths shallow.

The valley below swarmed with the grotesque army of cyborgs, their mechanical forms moving in eerie unison, the glow of their implants pulsing like a single, malevolent heartbeat.

He pressed a hand to his temple as he experienced the flicker of Mirage reconnecting within his mind.

Her utterance broke through the haze, calm but with an edge of concern. ‘Welcome back, gorgeous. You dropped out on me for a moment.’

‘Still here,’ he rasped, dry and raw. ‘Just about.’

The node hummed as her presence stabilized, her silver and gold eyes manifesting on the small HUD display in his helmet. ‘You’ve seen these before, haven’t you?’

---