The cavern gave way to winding tunnels and overgrown paths as Kael, Tharuk, and Renka pressed forward. Their steps were calculated, their breaths quiet. The soft glow of the cavern crystals faded behind them, replaced by the dim light of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the walls. The air was cool and thick, carrying the faint, unsettling clicks of distant termites.

  Kael adjusted the settings on his suit. Once a marvel of advanced stealth technology, it now operated on the bare minimum of power. The shimmering camouflage it once provided had dulled to little more than a faint blending effect, the material struggling to mimic the muted tones of the surrounding rocks and plants. “Not quite what it used to be,” Kael muttered under his breath.

  Renka’s sharp eyes caught the subtle shift in the suit’s texture as Kael moved ahead of her. She tilted her head, her voice low but curious. “Is that… magic?”

  Kael glanced back briefly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Not magic. Technology.”

  Tharuk, crouched nearby and observing the effect with a furrowed brow, added, “It moves like a shadow. But I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s not perfect,” Kael admitted, his tone practical. “Especially now. The suit’s running on fumes, so it can’t do much more than help me blend in. Still, it’s better than nothing.”

  Renka nodded slowly, though her expression betrayed her lingering skepticism. “Your world is strange, Kael.”

  Kael chuckled softly. “You don’t know the half of it. Let’s move.”

  Tharuk moved ahead with a practiced grace, his Molvari senses attuned to the faintest vibrations in the ground. “Two ahead,” he whispered, his voice barely louder than a breath. “Scouts.”

  Kael nodded, his hand tightening on the hilt of his katana. “Take the one on the left. I’ve got the right.”

  The group moved silently, the termites unaware of their approach. Tharuk’s spear flashed in the dim light, piercing the first termite through its thorax. Kael struck the second with a swift, clean motion, his blade severing its mandibles before delivering a final, fatal blow.

  Renka crouched beside them, her gaze scanning the shadows. “More will come if we’re not careful.”

  Kael wiped the ichor from his blade. “Then we move quickly. Stay low, stay silent.”

  After hours of careful maneuvering, the group reached the cavern where Kael’s spacecraft lay hidden. The vessel’s sleek, futuristic hull reflected the faint light from above, its design starkly out of place in the natural surroundings. But Kael’s relief was short-lived.

  A soldier termite and several workers surrounded the craft, their mandibles clacking as they scraped and gnawed at the ship’s unyielding surface. The soldier termite’s massive form dwarfed the others, its jagged legs anchoring it as it slammed repeatedly against the hull. The vessel bore no visible damage, but the termites’ persistence was clear.

  “They’re trying to break through,” Renka whispered, her claws flexing instinctively.

  Kael observed the scene, his cybernetic eye analyzing their movements. “They won’t succeed,” he said quietly. “But they’re not giving up either. We can’t leave them there.”

  Renka’s gaze narrowed. “We take them out. Fast and clean.”

  Kael nodded, his voice steady. “Tharuk, you flank left. Renka, stay right and keep their attention. I’ll take the soldier termite.”

  The group moved into position, their steps silent as shadows. Tharuk’s spear struck first, impaling one of the worker termites before retreating into the cover of a boulder. Renka slashed through another with precision, her claws rending its carapace. Kael charged the soldier termite, his katana slicing across its legs in a blur of motion.

  The soldier termite screeched, its mandibles snapping furiously as it turned to face Kael. He dodged its lunge, his katana flashing again to sever one of its antennae. The creature staggered, its coordination faltering as Tharuk and Renka closed in. With a final, devastating strike, Kael drove his blade into the soldier termite’s head, ending its command.

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  The victory was brief. More termites poured into the cavern, their numbers swelling as the echoes of the fight drew them in. Kael’s cybernetic eye highlighted the incoming swarm, his mind racing. “Too many,” he muttered. “Fall back to the ship!”

  The group retreated toward the vessel, their movements precise despite the chaos. Kael pressed his hand against the hull, the faint hum of dormant systems vibrating beneath his palm. “Lexa, open the hatch.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain. Hatch opening.”

  The group clambered inside, sealing the entrance behind them as the termites swarmed the exterior. Kael moved quickly to the control panel, his fingers flying over the interface. “Lexa, status report.”

  “Weapons systems offline. Propulsion system severely damaged. Minimal functionality available.”

  Kael exhaled sharply. “Can we move?”

  “With temporary repairs, I can achieve limited hover capability. Stability is not guaranteed.”

  Kael grimaced but set to work, his hands working quickly to reroute power. Sparks flew as he bridged circuits, the faint whine of the propulsion system coming to life. The ship jerked upward, hovering unsteadily a few meters off the ground. The hull scraped against the cavern floor, sending vibrations through the cockpit.

  “It’s moving,” Renka said, bracing herself against the wall.

  “Barely,” Kael muttered. He gripped the controls tightly, maneuvering the craft as it hovered forward. The lack of stability became immediately apparent—the ship veered slightly to the left, scraping against the cavern wall with a grating metallic sound.

  “Kael!” Tharuk barked, holding onto a console for support as the vessel jerked forward. “Are you sure this is safe?”

  Kael’s jaw tightened, his focus locked on the path ahead. “It’s not about safe. It’s about getting us out of here.”

  The craft inched forward, lurching with each minor adjustment to the controls. The propulsion system whined in protest, and the hull bumped repeatedly against the cavern walls and jutting stones. Sparks flew as the side of the ship collided with a narrow column, shaking the cabin.

  Renka gritted her teeth, steadying herself. “This thing doesn’t fly so much as... stumble.”

  Kael allowed himself a faint, humorless grin. “It’ll get us home. That’s all that matters.”

  The termites below continued their futile assault, their mandibles scraping against the ship’s unyielding hull. Slowly but surely, the vessel crept toward the safety of Zharakai.

  Far from the chaos of Kael’s mission, General Roderic Thane’s army arrived at the gates of a quiet, abandoned village. The palisades stood tall, their jagged spikes silhouetted against the dimming sky. Inside, the signs of a recent evacuation were clear—tools left hastily in the dirt, empty homes with doors ajar, and a faint sense of life recently uprooted.

  “This village wasn’t abandoned long ago,” Thane observed, his voice steady. “The defenses are still intact. They knew we were coming.”

  Lord Castren Hale, riding beside him, nodded thoughtfully. “It’s a convenient position, General. With some work, it could serve as a forward base.”

  Thane dismounted, surveying the area with his sharp, calculating gaze. “Then we make it so. Let the men know this village is ours now. Have them reinforce the palisades and establish camp. We’re staying for a while.”

  The soldiers wasted no time. Under Thane’s precise direction, the village became a hub of disciplined activity. Defensive trenches were dug around the palisades, and archers took up positions on hastily built watchtowers. Engineers repaired weak points in the wooden walls, using freshly cut logs from the surrounding forest.

  Tents and command stations were set up in the village’s center, their orderly rows contrasting with the rustic homes that dotted the area. Soldiers moved in coordinated teams, hauling supplies, sharpening weapons, and fortifying every vulnerable spot they could find.

  Thane stood near the center of the activity, his gaze moving from project to project. The clang of hammers and the rhythmic digging of shovels filled the air, a symphony of preparation. Despite the rapid progress, his expression remained stoic.

  As night fell, casting long shadows over the village, Thane stood near a makeshift command table, his sharp eyes fixed on a crude map. “The forest to the south… the scouts reported strange findings near its edge,” he said to Castren. “Twisted trees, discolored ground—something’s not right.”

  Castren frowned, leaning over the map. “You think the rebels are behind this? They’ve been in these parts long enough to set traps or… worse.”

  Thane’s gaze shifted toward the forest, its dark silhouette looming in the distance. “Perhaps. But we won’t know until we take a closer look. Send in new scouting parties. They need to push further in and find out what’s happening.”

  Castren hesitated for a moment before nodding. “I’ll have them move at first light. We’ll get answers.”

  As orders went out, the tension in the village grew. Soldiers worked late into the night, reinforcing palisades and fortifying the perimeter. The forest beyond remained an unsettling presence, its unnatural stillness a stark contrast to the soldiers’ disciplined activity. Speculation rippled through the ranks—traps, sabotage, or something else entirely—but no one dared voice their deeper fears aloud.