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[Rocketyard]
The Cosmodrome was burning as the Fallen marched on Rocketyard.
Smoke curled from the wreckage of a Fallen walker—twisted metal, shattered servos, legs collapsed under their own weight. Skiffs drifted in the horizon.
But the fight wasn't over, it was chaotic, scavenger squads ambushed the players at each step.
Just as it felt like they would win, the House of Devils would release low-flying skiffs armed to the teeth.
Void watched from his ship as the players fought tooth and nail to defend the relays.
"The relays will get taken, there's no way they're holding this back." Void mumbled, his eyes scanning the radars for Fallen activity across the Cosmodrome.
"Agreed, city reinforcements are here, but not enough. The Fallen aren't backing down." Obsidian replied.
The Rocketyard battle continued, no side was willing to give up.
But that would only be the first act. Void was sure of it.
"Any movement?" Void sighed.
"Negative, there's no chatter. The Fallen comms are quiet. Too quiet." Obsidian replied.
Void's eyes narrowed as he looked over a map, his instincts urged that this was the only possibility. For this lead, he was willing to sacrifice the network relays. Because he knew it was the only way to get the Fallen to overplay their hand.
His Jumpship hovered, circling Skywatch as he waited patiently.
Finally, a massive detonation tore through Rocketyard. Shockwaves rattled the bones of the Cosmodrome. Orange fire erupted where the Vanguard's emergency relays had been.
The network was gone. The City had lost contact.
And now, it was the Fallen's turn to act.
"I've got eyes on a Fallen squad rushing to the Terrestrial Complex!" Obsidian urgently chimed in.
"Set route. We'll catch them there." Void nodded.
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[Terrestrial Complex]
Deep inside the Terrestrial Complex, something ancient stirred. Beneath its collapsed walls, an untouched Golden Age terminal flickered online. Dust scattered as ambient power reawakened long-idle subroutines. The Fallen Splicers swarmed through the corridors—not scavenging this time, but securing.
They had found it. And they weren't alone.
In the dark, Void was watching.
He crouched in the shadow of a shattered wall, hidden in the blind spot of a decayed ceiling camera. The terminal blinked just ahead—three Splicers at work, probing, wiring, splicing code through retrofitted Fallen tech.
'Too close.' Void crept forward.
He reached for his blade—quiet, efficient. Ready to make a move.
Then everything froze.
The lights dimmed. Static sparked. The Fallen's systems began glitching, their gear crackling with unexpected interference.
From deep within the network, a signal surged upward.
Void narrowed his eyes. He'd seen this before. He observed the Fallen splicers urgently tinkering with the terminal. Void softly exhaled a breath.
"I just got an encrypted message." Obsidian flittered, displaying the message in Void's visor.
An encrypted Golden Age channel opened, and a stream of code rushed in as it was decoded just as fast.
"So Rasputin finally wants to talk?" Void whispered back.
"This is..." Obsidian analyzed the old text, trying its best to translate in real time, "He's...sending us an offer?"
"What's the deal?" Void raised a brow.
"He wants us to stop the Fallen, from accessing the terminal. In return....he says he's willing to compromise." Obsidian hesitated as he answered,
"Compromise?" Void's grin was slight but sharp, "I suppose there's no other way to secure this terminal but us huh? Tell him I'll do it, but I want a guarantee."
There was a pause.
Then another stream of code appeared. In the encrypted comms channel, a half set of coordinates appeared. Perhaps, a backdoor to Rasputin's archive net. A favour, if not trust.
"I've confirmed a location. It says we'll get the rest once we finish." Obsidian replied.
Then there was silence.
Void stood.
He moved like smoke—coiling through the hallway. The Fallen splicers had already detected something amiss. They jittered, with electrified spears raised, but Void was already on them.
His blade flashed. The Splicers scattered, wielding their arc spears. But they couldn't land a single hit. As if they were facing a phantom.
They were tougher this time—faster, angrier, modified—but they weren't enough.
Not for him.
"Zamyr, clean it up." He whispered.
A pale light erupted from the blade. The Terrestrial complex froze, drawn in by the presence of the sword. Zamyr bent their minds, and bewitched their souls.
At the end, what remained of them, were mere husks.
And as the last Splicer collapsed in a pool of sparks, Void stepped toward the terminal and placed his hand against the console.
"Looks like we're done, I hope you're not gonna go back on your words." he whispered.
Behind him, the silence returned. Rasputin had been watching. Another set of coordinates appeared in the old channel, and Void smiled.
"Then I'll see you soon." Void turned.
Rasputin's terminal pulsed as if in recognition. But then it fell silent.
Void looked around the complex, the faint flicker of ether flames from Splicer tech shined bright. He walked closer to one of the corpses.
"Looks like the Devil splicers are making quick progress. It's far more advanced than what we knew." Void examined the tech they carried.
"Obsidian, scan and send the data to Pahanin. I think we might still have use of this junk they made" Void grabbed a few pieces off of the bodies, storing it in his inventory.
"Got it, sending scans, I'll include the material properties and a combat clip to give him an idea." Obsidian nodded.
Void walked towards the shadows at the far end, one boot resting on a twisted piece of plating. Then, he looked over his shoulder at the terminal.
"Let's get to the coordinates. We've got work to do." He continued, and then he vanished.
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[Tower, Last City]
With another campaign mission complete, the guardians returned to the tower.
The fireteam rematerialized near the postmaster kiosk, blinking under the bright sky.
Despite the city Failing to maintain control over the network relays in Rocketyard, it wasn't completely over. The City had access to other relays allowing them to re-establish their comms system in a matter of hours.
"Can't believe we failed to defend after all of that." TheOneWhoKnocks sighed.
"I mean, it was just the mission. Don't think there's a different ending." Gandalf nodded.
"Not much we can do when they decide to use their skiffs as portable bombs." Undecided clicked his tongue.
"Still, the rewards weren't bad." BearSpray shrugged.
IEatPaint looked toward the courtyard. "So....We going to start the faction shit?"
Waffles exhaled. "Hell yeah."
Undecided nodded. "Let's do it as soon as possible, I am gonna grind some bounties till then."
"Oi, we gotta do it later though. I'm busy helping my mom cook." Gandalf sighed.
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[Dry Sea, Cosmodrome]
The Dry Sea stretched like a sun-bleached scar across the Cosmodrome. Shattered remnants of ancient Golden Age machinery lay half-buried across the landscape—forgotten, worn smooth by centuries of sandstorms.
But it seemed, that somewhere beneath all that ruin, something ancient still stirred.
Void transmatted out of his jumpship as the wind howled, cloak whipping around his frame, visor gleaming in the sunlight. Obsidian hovered nearby, silent but watchful.
"Are you sure this is the one?" Void asked, scanning the horizon.
Obsidian chimed, projecting a faint hologram of the terrain. "Encrypted code from Rasputin's subnetwork led here. The vault should be beneath this quadrant. Designation: V-44R. Unlisted in standard Vanguard archives."
Void knelt, placing a gloved hand to the dusty ground. His eyes flashed, something hummed faintly beneath—faint EM currents, just barely active.
He smiled.
"I guess it really is this place. We'll need an entry point though." Void deftly slung his Radeghast's Fury over his shoulder, loading a few rockets.
"Right...I'll be over there." Obsidian quietly flittered away as Void aimed at the ground.
"Please, its not that dangerous." Void shrugged.
Void stood back, aimed down, and pulled the trigger. An echoing boom rippled across the dunes like thunder in a dead world. The sand caved inward creating a massive storm that seemed to collapse on him.
As the dust settled, Void dug himself out, "Bit of an overkill, but it did the job."
Obsidian blinked forward, laser scanning the sand, "I think it did, we're close."
Void trudged ahead, but as his feet caught on a jagged remnant of a vault, he finally spotted the a steel trapdoor.
"Found it." He grinned.
The vault hatch was rusted, and ancient. From the outside, it seemed like a rock.
Void inched closer, grabbing the door's seams as he tried to force it open. He could hear the gears spinning inside as they resisted the pressure. Void's jaw tightened as he forced the doors open using light to reinforce his strength.
"Son of a-" Void heaved, squeezing inside the small opening.
Stepping inside was akin to entering into a tomb.
The air was cold and dry, filtered through automated vents that wheezed to life after centuries of dormancy. Lights flickered above him, and symbols of the Clovis Bray Corporation gleamed faintly on the rusted walls.
Void moved cautiously, boots echoing across the floor as he passed through long-dead hallways. Rubble crunched underfoot—burnt cables, shattered consoles, bones. Human bones.
"This place was abandoned in a hurry," Obsidian said quietly.
"No… it was sealed." Void mumbled.
Obsidian scanned the surroundings and the walls, "Look's like there's gas valves in the walls. When the place was shut, all the air was practically forced out."
"You mean?" Void raised a brow.
Obsidian flittered closer to the skeletons, speaking in a sombre voice, "Whoever they were, they probably suffocated. It wouldn't have been pleasant."
Void walked towards the remains, examining the people that had been left behind. There was curiosity in his eyes. Had they been abandoned here? Or had they chosen to stay? He looked at the inside of the door.
There were no signs of struggle. No cracks or scratches on the walls. No one tried to get out. Void was sure, that getting out was far easier than getting in. And yet, none of these people had tried to leave.
"Where exactly...are we?" Void frowned.
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