Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The wind didn’t reach this high.
There was nothing but the old platform, rusting and skeletal, old bits of debris suspended in the atmosphere around it.
Spensa climbed out of M-Bot’s cockpit, her boots hitting the metallic floor with a dull thud. The metal groaned under her weight like something alive, and Spensa suddenly questioned the decaying structure’s stability, its edges blurring into the dark sky.
“Yeah, okay,” Nedd said from behind her, his voice unusually quiet. “I’d like to officially state that this is the *worst* idea Jorgen’s ever had. Did he really think we’d find something useful in this old wasteland?”
“Well, Nedder, we’ll never find anything useful if we don’t start looking,” Arturo murmured, glancing back. “We’re here to search—not to fool around.”
A weird kind of energy signature had been detected on their scanners, something unidentifiable, and because it could be something potentially useful—of course they had to investigate. It was their duty.
Spensa adjusted her grip on her laser gun, staring into the wide, dark passage that lay before them. The floor groaned again—like some sort of thing disrupted from its slumber. Rust curled up the walls of the passage, jagged and rough, twisting into the black nothingness that stretched down the corridor.
The whole place in general smelt like stale dust and metal, accompanied by a hint of something neither of them could name.
But it didn’t frighten her. She’d faced worse, anyways.
“Stars above,” Kimmalyn said, glancing down the unlit passage. “We’ll never find it like this.”
FM stepped out of her own cockpit, glancing at the scanner on her datapad. Gill was perched contentedly on her shoulder, spikes waving. “The signal’s coming from below,” she gulped, “deeper inside the structure…”
“Fantastic,” Nedd deadpanned. “It’s never ‘Oh look! It’s right here on the surface where it’s safe and convenient!’ It’s always ‘descend into the dark, winding abyss, and see what happens after.’”
Spensa rolled her eyes. “Don’t be such a coward. It’s not even *that* bad.”
“Bad!” Doomslug fluted from Spensa’s shoulder.
As if on cue, the floor groaned obnoxiously again.
Spensa chose not to acknowledge that.
Alanik landed soundlessly behind Arturo, pale purple eyes scanning the platform with focused precision. “How deep did you say the energy source was, Freyja?” She whispered.
FM hesitated. “At least three kilometers in. It’ll definitely take more than a day”
Arturo walked forward and ran a finger over one of the walls, barely surprised when it came back covered in grime and flakes of rust.
“Let’s just get this over with” he sighed, taking a flashing and shining it down the path.
The white beam of light pierced the darkness of the corridor stretching before them, covered in grime, rust, and a weird brownish substance Spensa couldn’t recognize.
*Blood?* She thought, but dismissed the idea almost immediately.
Jagged metal spikes jutted up like the ribs of an ancient beast, and the lights had long since died, leaving only the faint red of the emergency lights flickering weakly in the distance.
Kimmalyn stepped wearily beside Arturo, scanning the illuminated areas with dread.
“I don’t like the feeling of this,” she murmured. “Feels like we’re being watched.”
Spensa turned around. There was nothing there. Nothing. Just shadows, stretching long and unnaturally in the light reflected from the metal.
Arturo exhaled, his grip on his gun tightening instinctively. “Let’s go. And watch your scudding steps. The last thing we need is to get ourselves cut by a rusty metal spike. I’ll go first.”
Slowly, Arturo placed his foot forward, testing the stability of the grimy metal floor. It shuddered and he took a cautious step back—but instead of collapsing, the floor just swayed briefly. Arturo exhaled in relief.
“So...” Nedd’s voice cut through. “I bet that floor won’t give in?”
Arturo nodded. “Probably not.”
One by one each of them entered the corridor, with nothing but Arturo’s flashlight to guide them. Not to mention the occasional red flicker of the emergency lights.
FM led the way alongside him, gripping her datapad tightly, glancing down at the pathway highlighted on its digital display.
Scud, they really did have a long way to go. It wasn’t even a straight path, to make things even worse.
At this point, they just hoped they’d make it out without any unwanted incidents.
As they crept forward cautiously, the floor let out another shuddering groan, the sound crawling up Spensa’s spine like a warning. She gritted her teeth, fingers curling around her gun. This place genuinely sucked. Too dark, too quiet, too… wrong.
*Breathe. Stay alert. Focus.*
The advice Jorgen gave her before the mission drifted through her head, his voice calm, steady, annoyingly rational—cutting through the hazy panic like a blade.
“Take in your surroundings. Analyze them. Don't let the atmosphere mess with your head."
Spensa huffed. Why was she thinking of Jorgen right now, of all times?
But stars, she kinda wished he was here. His presence—steady, reliable—had a way of making everything feel less wrong.
Not that she was afraid, of course. It would take more than a rusty old platform to scare her.
The air smelled worse now, thick with dust that clung to the back of her throat uncomfortably. Every step felt too loud, the sound echoing eerily through the black emptiness.
Even Doomslug and Gill, who liked to mimic sounds and flute and random intervals, had gone completely silent on Spensa and FM’s shoulders.
The passage continued to stretch on, narrow and endless. The flickering red emergency lights and the flashlight’s beam cast jagged shadows against the wall once more, twisting them into strange, warped shapes.
Then—
A sound.
Spensa froze.
A faint, distant *clang*, like metal shifting somewhere ahead.
Not too far. Not too close. But it was there. There was no mistaking it.
The others halted as well. FM’s grip on her datapad tightened, her eyes flicking towards Spensa. Nedd muttered something under his breath, shifting his weight uneasily. Kimmalyn’s hand moved to her gun once again, her expression cautious.
Alanik raised her eyebrows, meeting Arturo’s gaze questioningly.
He stepped forward, exhaling. “It’s… probably just the platform settling,” he confirmed, trying to keep his voice rational.
Nobody replied. Spensa’s heart thrummed in her chest.
She wasn’t so sure about that…
And just when they were about to continue walking—
—the voice rang out through the darkness again. Closer this time.
Doomslug fluted, a quiet, hesitant sound.
FM’s fingers hovered over the datapad, her eyes narrowing in concern. “There’s… something ahead,” she whispered.
“What?” Kimmalyn and Spensa asked at the same time.
FM shook her head, tapping at the screen. “I don’t know, the signal’s spiking… it’s weird—abnormal, even.”
Nedd blinked, staring at FM with wide, green eyes. “What the scud do you mean ‘abnormal’—“
*Clang*
*Clang*
*Clang*
Closer this time.
Arturo lifted the flashlight, aiming the beam further down the passage with a forced steadiness. The light illuminated more rusted walls, jagged metal, streaks of brownish-red. It landed down the furthest end, the glow of the emergency lights dim and intermittent—barely enough to see past the next few meters.
But there was nothing else. Nothing there.
And yet—
They could feel its presence.
Like something was lurking just outside the flashlight’s reach.
Spensa cleared her throat, trying to keep her demeanor calm. “Well… whatever that *thing* is, we can just shoot it, right?”
Arturo opened his mouth to say something, but then—without warning—the flashlight flickered, the once steady beam of light wavering for a few seconds.
Just enough time for something at the end of the passage to shift.
A minor flicker of motion. Clearly not one of them.
Spensa’s breath hitched, fingers tightening around the trigger of her gun.
“F*cking hell,” Arturo swore, giving the flashlight a few, violent shakes. The beam finally steadied, and he shone it down the passage again. But this time, the corridor was empty.
Spensa’s pulse thudnered in her ears.
Alanik swallowed hard. “…Okay,” she whispered. “Did anyone else see that?”
Arturo scanned the area again, the light sweeping in slow, deliberate arcs. But there was nothing but rusted metal winding down the curve of the long, endless tunnel.
“Yeah,” Nedd exhaled. “And I *really* don’t wanna keep seeing it again.”
Kimmalyn whispered something under her breath.
FM glanced at her datapad. “The signal… it’s gone.”
Spensa exhaled sharply through her nose, forcing her grip to loosen around the gun.
*Calm down,* she told herself internally. The silence in the passage thickened, pressing in on all sides like a held breath.
“Should we… go further?” Kimmalyn mumbled shakily.
Arturo nodded sagely. “We have to, Quirk. We don’t have a choice.”

Chapter Text

Spensa’s grip tightened on her gun, though she didn’t know why. The longer they stood there, staring into the distance ahead, the more it felt like the passage itself was closing in.
A shiver ran down her spine.
“Let’s just keep moving,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt.
“Yeah,” Arturo agreed, his voice tight. He stepped forward, the clicking of his boots making the only sounds in the silence that threatened to envelope them whole.
The flashlight’s beam quivered again, casting more erratic shadows across the walls.
And that did *nothing* to calm their nerves.
Spensa tried to ignore the unsettling feeling crawling beneath her skin. But it just wouldn’t leave her—the sensation that they were being watched, observed. It pressed down on the corners of her mind uncomfortably.
“Take in your surroundings. Analyze them. Don't let the atmosphere mess with your head."
Spensa tried to focus on Jorgen’s words, his steady voice—but her mind kept drifting elsewhere.
Relax. Everything’s fine. The noise is gone. Nobody’s watching you.
Then—
*Clang.* Again.
The noise was louder than ever now. Not distant. Not as faint as before. Close.
Spensa whirled towards the direction of the sound, pulse accelerating.
“Did you hear that? Again?” Kimmalyn whispered, her voice low and anxious.
Nobody answered.
The leather of her holster creaked as Spensa unfastened it, the cool metal of her gun brushing against her fingertips, ready to slip out if she needed it.
“It’s still here,” Alanik murmured, eyes wide, scanning the shadows in barely contained terror.
Suddenly, Arturo’s flashlight flickered again—once, twice, before spluttering out completely.
The corridor plunged into darkness, the red glow of the emergency lights barely being enough to see.
“We’re need light,” Spensa hissed, reaching for her own spare flashlight tucked beside the gun. But when her fingers brushed against the belt—
It wasn’t there.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her flashlight had disappeared. She *knew* she had it on just a few minutes ago. Safely strapped beside her gun. The one thing she’d relied on incase Arturo’s flashlight failed.
Her fingers trembled as she felt along her belt again. No flashlight. Only the gun.
“Spensa?” Arturo’s voice was sharp, laced with panic. “Spensa, what’s going on? Where the hell is your flashlight—“
”—I don’t f*cking know!”, Spensa answered abruptly, trying to repress the relentless panic. “It’s not here!”
“What do you mean it’s not there!?” Nedd practically half-screamed.
The darkness seemed to press closer, tightening around them like an uncomfortable blanket. They could feel it now—an undeniable sense of wrongness that chilled them to the bone.
The air shifted and the temperature dropped—not a lot, but just enough to make a difference.
And then—
A sound.
Not a clang, but a soft, rasping noise.
It was close. So, scudding close.
Spensa turned on her heel, but there was nothing there.
“Where the hell is it?!” She hissed, panic beginning to rise in her chest.
Okay. Maybe she was just the *slightest* bit afraid now.
The rasping noise rang out through the darkness again.
Spensa’s mind screamed to run. To get the hell out of this scudding platform and come back with reinforcements. But her feet were frozen, rooted to the spot.
Her hands shook on the trigger of her gun, but she couldn’t fire—not like this, with no light to guide her.
The air weighed down, thick and heavy, and just when Spensa thought it’d be the end of them all—
The flashlight—Arturo’s scudding, malfunctioning flashlight—flickered back to life.
“Did you all… hear that?” FM mumbled, her voice shaking.
Kimmalyn nodded. “Maybe it’s just a… Krell?”
Alanik shook her head. “Highly unlikely, considering what just happened… FM, how much longer do we have left?”
FM’s eyes darted toward her datapad, unblinking. “Still two kilometers left.”
The chances of experiencing an unwanted incident seemed high.
And now? Spensa wasn’t even sure they’d make it out alright.

Chapter Text

Two kilometers. Scudding hell. They weren’t even halfway through.
Nedd groaned in barely contained exasperation. Kimmlayn’s gaze averted to the floor. Alanik sighed quietly. Arturo just stared into the distance like the corridor had just personally wronged him. Which, to be fair, was not exactly wrong.
Eventually, they stopped staring into the blackness and continued walking. The clicking of their boots and the groaning of the floor echoed through the silent walls, their *own* moving shadows putting them increasingly on edge.
They’d been walking for what felt like hours through the insufferable labyrinth of the rusty corridors, Arturo’s flashlight finally stable, illuminating the path before them. FM’s datapad was the only source of direction they had, the distance of the little highlighted path to the energy source decreasing slightly.
The atmosphere felt heavier and colder than before, and Spensa just couldn’t stop thinking about that faint rasping noise.
But her through were disrupted when Arturo came to a sudden halt.
Her eyebrows rose in confusion.
Then, they saw it.
A metal door.
But it wasn’t like the other rusty metal entrences they’d walked past. This one was… different. Bare, metal frames with a dark, smooth and unmarked surface. It looked less rusty, less… ancient in comparison to the rest of the corridor.
And, most importantly, the path on the datapad led here. They had to go through it to find the energy source.
Arturo hesitated, his hand hovering centimeters above the handle. “Guys,” he said, the glow of the flashlight highlighting the concerned expression he wore. “Are you… sure we should go in here?”
The emergency lights flickered again.
A chill ran up Spensa’s spine, and her mind tried to make sense of the situation.
She glanced at FM. Her face was practically unreadable, but Spensa could see that she too, was unsettled by the thought of going in there. Gill had gone completely silent on her shoulder once more, much like Doomslug.
Spends then glanced at Kimmalyn. Her lips were drawn into a straight line, her fingers hovering subconsciously over her gun.
“Guys,” Arturo repeated, his voice quiet and tentative. “What should we do?”
Alanik bit her lip, staring at the datapad screen. “We have to go inside.”
Nedd’s eye twitched. “We’re going to die here.”
Arturo ignored him, grabbing the door handle and turning it rapidly. The metal creaked, and the door swung open with a groan. It was unsettlingly dark inside. Darker than the rest of the station. And there was just a single, dim emergency light in the centre of the ceiling, its eerie red glow making things look ten times worse.
“Let’s go,” Spensa said, searching for something through the darkness.
Arturo was the first to enter. The others followed, one by one, until the last of them—Nedd—stepped in.
Arturo waved his flashlight over the walls, the rusty metal barely reflecting the light of the small beam. It smelled stale and musty, the air thick with dust and stagnation, while the floor was coated with a thin layer of dust.
Spensa’s pulse quickened. She took a tentative step forward, her books squawking against the groaning floor.
Once they were all a few inches from the door, Arturo opened his mouth to say something.
But then—before any of them could comprehend it—the door slammed shut behind them with a soft hiss—like a vault sealing—the sound of it echoing through the musty little room.
A fresh wave of panic crashed onto them as they stared at the closed door.
Spensa glared at it in silent disbelief, eyes narrowing into thin amethyst slits.
She strode over to the door handle, giving it a few violent turns.
One. Two. Three.
Nothing. It didn’t even budge.
Spensa could feel her heart hammering faster and harder as she tried to turn it again ineffectively. Still nothing. Not even the slightest budge.
“We’re trapped,” Alanik mumbled, her voice dripping with unfiltered dread.
No. No no no no no. They couldn’t be trapped. Not right now. Not like this—
But that’s when Nedd’s voice cut through the tension like a metal spike.
“Guys…” his voice shook, his eyes wide as saucers, skin pale. “Look at this.”
The group approached, a sinking dread pressing at the corners of their minds.
Arturo shone the beam to what Nedd was pointing at, eyebrows raised. His jaw dropped, his breath catching in his throat. His face paled visibly.
That’ when Spensa saw it.
Written on the rusted wall (in that same reddish-brown liquid Spensa noticed in the corridors that looked suspiciously like blood) in harsh, jagged letters were the words:

S0M3TH1NG knows you’re here.

Kimmalyn placed a hand over her mouth, barely muffling a violent gasp. Alanik just stared at it, absolutely motionless. FM stared at it, blue eyes wider than Spensa had ever seen, the datapad falling from her hands with a soft clink.
Spensa’s throat, meanwhile, had gone completely dry.
What the f*ck was S0M3TH1NG? Was it that strange presence?
On instinct, she reached for her comms unit, clutching the device so hard her knuckles turned white. Maybe she could get help. Maybe she could contact Jorgen.
Because there was no way they’d be stuck in a dark empty room with barely any life necessities.
She turned it on—nothing but empty static hissing in her ears, obliterating whatever false hope she had.
“Jorgen?” She tried, voice tight. “Jorgen, can you read me?”
Nothing. Just more static, swallowing her desperate attempt to reach out.
She adjusted the frequency, toggling every setting she knew.
Come on, come on, come on—
“Jorgen, if you can hear me, please respond.”
More static. Mocking. Infuriating.
FM waked over woefully, placing a hand on Spensa’s shoulder. “I think… it won’t reach. We’re in too deep.”
The words settled like a lead weight on her chest. Too deep. Trapped behind a scudding metal door with minimal lighting. Now, without any means of communication. Doomslug fluted supportively.
FM’s hand tightened on Spensa’s shoulder. The comms were dead. No communication. The realization pressed down on them like the dark atmosphere.
Then—
The datapad chimed harshly.
Spensa tried to repress a flinch as the screen flickered wildly—a mess of static and distorted text.
The device let out another screech—high pitched and obnoxious—like fingernails scratching against a chalkboard.
FM bent down and yanked it up, tapping at the screen feverishly. “What the—“
The screen flickered once. Twice. Then, something finally stabilized.

ERROR: ENTITY DETECTED

The words were bold and black against a staticky white background.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Kimmalyn shook her head in disbelief. “…What—“
But she trailed off, eyes widening once more. Spensa froze, every sense suddenly on alert. The room had gone cold again.
Then—
The rasping noise. The scudding rasping noise.
Spensa’s blood turned to ice.
It was soft, almost gentle.
And it was coming from… right behind them.

Chapter Text

Jorgen sat in his office, fingers moving swiftly as he typed up yet another report.
His coffee—room temperature now—sat untouched beside him. It was just a little routine mission. An abandoned old platform. No real threats. Just an energy signature they had to investigate.
Then, there was an almost hesitant knock on the door.
A nervous-looking cadet stepped inside, subconsciously fidgeting with the hem of her uniform. “Uh… Admiral Weight?”
Jorgen barely looked up from the screen. “Yes?”
“Well… Umm…” The cadet gulped. “Do you… remember the mission you sent Flightleader Mendez and the rest of Skyward Flight to?”
Jorgen nodded, glancing at the cadet briefly.
“So… about platform they’re investigating,” The cadet continued nervously. “We just got some additional data on it… and… uhhh…”
Jorgen finally stopped typing. He finally looked up, dark eyes narrowing. “And?”
The cadet shifted on her feet uneasily and gave him the most hesitant, deeply-regretting-her-life-choices look.
“Sir… the platform… it wasn’t abandoned due to lack of use.” She swallowed hard. “It was abandoned because… no one who stayed there ever made it out alive.”
Silence. Deafening silence.
Jorgen froze, his blood turning to ice. “…What?”
The cadet stared at the floor, wincing. “Yeah… It seems that everyone who was stationed there, or, um, visited… went missing. No bodies were ever found. In fact, it was probably last used by Detritus’s original population… before they got annihilated by that Delver—because the records say ‘lost without a trace.’”
Jorgen shot up from his seat so fast his chair scraped violently against the floor. His heart thudded against his ribs, the sound of his pulse filling his ears.
He’d told them to investigate. He’d sent Spensa there. He had sent his fiancée and the rest of his Flight into a scudding death trap. By accident. Thinking it was harmless.
His vision tunneled. His fingers clenched into fists at his sides.
The cadet took an instinctive step back, looking like she wanted to bolt out the door.
Probably because Jorgen’s face had gone absolutely intimidating.
“They’re still in there,” he murmured, voice sharp and tight. “Are we getting any signals from them?”
The cadet looked genuinely frightened now.
“Uh… no sir. The moment they went in deeper than 500 meters, all communication… cut out.”
Jorgen’s mind went blank, pulse now roaring in his ears. No communication. No possible way of knowing if they’re alright… or alive.
“…Scud.”
He was already moving, grabbing his comms device, flipping through the channels, doing anything—everything—to reach Spensa.
But there was nothing. Just static.
Jorgen looked up at the cadet, tying to keep his composure. “Alright. I’ll look into this matter. You’re dismissed.”
The cadet looked almost relived. “Th-Thank you, Sir.”
She gave him a polite smile and practically bolted out if his office, shutting the door quietly behind her.
Jorgen tried switching the channels again.
Still static. Just like the other before them.
F*ck. F*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck f*ck.
What the hell had he just done?

Chapter Text

Spensa’s breath hitched, fingers trembling against the useless comms unit. Her heart hammered in her ribs, pulse racing through her ears.
No. No, this wasn’t happening. She was just hallucinating. Right?
The rasping noise cut through the air again—closer—sending an unpleasant shiver down her spine.
Never mind. She wasn’t hallucinating. That voice proved everything but.
Her feet seemed rooted to the spot. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything except stand there, exchanging silent glances with her Flight, overwhelmed by the unwelcome realization that S0M3TH1NG was right behind them.
Waiting. Watching. Existing, even though it shouldn’t.
And suddenly—when her eyes flickered momentarily to her comms device—Jorgen.
Memories of him crashed into her mind like an uncontrolled descent—his steady, gray-flecked dark brown eyes, his warm hands, his voice when he whispered her name lovingly…
Jorgen, who was always there fore her.
Jorgen, who would be listening right now if the comms weren’t dead, who would be demanding to know what’s wrong, his reassuring voice sharp with concern but still steady.
But there was no voice. No reassuring, exasperated, Jerkface-y presence on the other end. Just her. Just her team. Just… this thing.
And if she died like this… If she never saw him again…
No. F*ck it all, no.
She clenched her jaw. She would not die in this scudding metal room like a weakling, in the hands of a stupid unknown entity.
She wasn’t leaving Jorgen behind to wonder what the hell happened to her, sitting all alone in that giant house of his, waiting for a call that would never come.
She was going to get out of here. They were going to get out of here.
She was going to see Jorgen again.
Even if she had to fight whatever the f*ck was behind them, rasping slowly and deliberately, probably plotting the death of them all.
Spensa forced in a breath, strapping the comms device back onto her belt and making sure Doomslug was securely perched on her shoulder.
Arturo gave her a look—a look that meant he knew exactly what she was thinking.
He nodded silently, fingers hovering just millimeters over the trigger of his weapon.
The rasping noise came again.
And this time, brandishing her gun with determination, she turned around.
But there was nothing.
The dark room behind them was completely empty. Rusted walls, flickering emergency light, the groan of the metal floor under their weight.
But… S0M3TH1NG couldn’t just disappear… right?
Spensa’s pulse raced in her skull as she scanned the room, her gun gripped so tight it might as well just break under the unrelenting grip of her fingers. She swears— she swears—it had been just behind them a second ago. Watching them.
Yet now?
Nothing.
Only the oppressive silence, thick and heavy. Only the air, dominated with dust and something else—something wrong.
Kimmalyn swallowed audibly. Nedd shifted on his feet uneasily. Alanik’s shoulders were tensed, eyes narrowed and flicking back and forth as if expecting S0M3TH1NG to reappear. FM just stared at her datapad—the screen glitching but the words gone.
Gill fluted questioningly.
Arturo exhaled violently through his nose. “Okay,” he said, voice tight. “I scudding hate this.”
The rasping noise was gone.
Spensa swallowed hard. A surprising wave of fury crashed over her as she stared at the empty space, eyes unwavering. “That f*cking piece of—“
She strode furiously toward the door, giving it a hard, relentless kick, the noise echoing through the room as she glared at it. The she kicked it again. And again.
“Spensa!” Arturo grabbed her by the shoulders, pulling her away. “Are you scudding insane—“
“SCUDDING INSANE?” Spensa seethed. “NO, I’M SCUDDING FURIOUS! IT WAS RIGHT THERE! BREATHING ON US LIKE A CREEPY LITTLE FREAK AND NOW IT’S GONE?! I WANT TO KILL IT! THAT GASLIGHTING, COWARDLY, GLITCHING PIECE OF SH*T DESERVES TO DIE! I’LL BREAK THIS DOOR OPEN AND FIND IT!”
Arturo gently but firmly placed his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him, his voice low and steady. “Spin, I know you’re pissed. We all are. But you must understand—you going off like this won’t help anyone.”
Spensa nodded, biting her lip. “I know. I’m sorry, but it’s just… I should be on the comms with Jorgen right now, Arturo! He’d know what to do—he’d know what the hell is going on! But I can’t even get a signal, and I’m stuck here—stuck with this thing that’s probably gonna get us killed! I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
He looked her in the eye, his gaze unwavering. “I know, Spin. But Jorgen’s not here. And right now, we need to be here. We need to think this through, not tear things apart over scud we can’t control. You’re not alone in this.”
He cleared his throat.
“And about losing our minds? I have a suspicion that’s exactly what S0M3TH1NG wants. To drive us insane—until we make reckless decisions.”
“Take in your surroundings. Analyze them. Don't let the atmosphere mess with your head." Jorgen’s voice played through her head like a melody. Spensa took a deep breath, finally calming down. “Sorry. I guess.”
Arturo raised an eyebrow, amused “You *guess*?
Spensa crossed her arms, huffing. “Fine. Sorry for… you know… nearly breaking my toes and losing my temper trynna kick us out of here.”
“Thank you,” Arturo deadpanned, finally letting go of her shoulders. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
But Arturo had barely let go of Spensa when the emergency light in the middle of the ceiling flickered—just once. But it was different this time. Not like the usual flickering.
She froze.
The others did too.
A long, oppressive silence stretched between them.
The lights flickered again. And this time, they didn’t just stutter. They changed color.
The dull, red emergency glow that had barely illuminated the rusted walls was gone.
Instead, a strange green light buzzed overhead, casting unnatural shadows across the walls, the light bending at weird angles that didn’t make sense.
The room, already eerie, suddenly looked even more unsettling.
Alanik exhaled sharply, voice barely above a whisper. “Why the scud did it just do that?”
“I—“ Kimmalyn hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a normal emergency setting.”
Spensa clenched her fists, the unrelenting anger from before being replaced by something else. A slow, creeping dread, curling inside her chest.
Alanik stiffened again, turning her head sharply, staring at the door under the green light, her pale purple eyes narrowing.
But then—FM’s breath hitched.
The datapad was starting to flicker again. Glitching. Static dominating the screen once more. And in between the distorted screen static, a message appeared, worse than the last.

Y0U’RE N0T AL0N3, SKYW4RD FL1GHT

FM gasped violently. “Oh *hell* no.” She tapped at the screen again, but the message continued to remain—distorted white lines upon a glitching black screen.
Kimmalyn visibly panicked. “How the hell does it know who we are—“
A noise erupted from behind the door—a loud bang.
Something had *slammed* into the door behind them. Loud. Violent.
Spensa’s entire body went cold.
Then the rasping noise returned, cold and unsettling. But this time, it wasn’t behind them. It was everywhere.
*BANG*
Another slam against the metal.
Nedd swore. “Scud. Scud. SCUD.”
Spensa’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts. “FM! What does the datapad say now?”
FM stared at it, eyes wide and cold. “It’s gone. The message is gone.”
Another bang shattered through the tension of the room, the door shuddering in its frame.
“WE NEED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” Nedd declared, yanking his gun up.
“No!” Arturo hissed, shaking his head. “We don’t even know what it is! What if shooting doesn’t work?!”
The green lights flickered.
A shadow flickered with them.
Not theirs.
Something else.
Something inside the room.
Then the rasping sound came again.
From right behind Spensa. Again.
Spensa brandished her gun again, turning around in a heartbeat along with the Flight.
What she saw there made her heart stutter wildly, panic crashing over her in relentless waves.
This was no false alarm.
S0M3TH1NG was Right. There.
Not moving. Not lunging. Just standing. Watching.
Then it began to smile. Wider. And wider.
The corners tore too far back, like its skin was splitting apart.
Spensa almost screamed. Scud, they were so dead.

This? This wasn’t just a random alien. This was a hundred times worse.

Chapter Text

Rig sat cross-legged on the floor, as he tinkered with loose panel on a starfighter’s wing. His datapad was balanced on one knee, displaying stats while his wrench effortlessly tightened a loose nut.
The door to the garage swung open and Jorgen entered, his posture stiff, eyes cold and hard.
“Rodge?” He said, voice tight.
Rig glanced up, eyebrows raised, noticing the quiet dread in Jorgen’s eyes. “Yeah?”
Jorgen didn’t move. Din’t breathe. His fingers were clenched at his sides, like he was holding something invisible in his hands.
Then, after a long silence: “Close the door.”
Rig pushed himself off the floor, suddenly unsettled. Why was Jorgen, of all people, acting like… this?
“Do you… remember the mission I sent Skyward Flight to?” Jorgen asked, gritting his teeth. “The one about investigating that scudding old platform?”
Rig nodded, setting his wrench down. “Yeah… what about it?
Jorgen bit his lip. ”Turns out… the platform… it wasn’t abandoned due to lack of use.” He swallowed hard. “They did some more research on it and they found out it
was abandoned because no one who stayed there ever made it out alive.”
Rig’s stomach turned to ice. “W-what?”
Jorgen exhaled sharply through his nose. “The records were buried deep. Turns out everyone who stayed there, or was stationed there… vanished without a trace.”
Rig’s pulse raced in his ears. “And you’re telling me this *now*?!”
Jorgen dragged a hand through his curls in frustration. “I only found out a few hours ago. I didn’t know. I thought it was just abandoned. I didn’t—“ He clenched his jaw. “Scud, Rodge. They’re still in there. And their communication cut off.”
Rig’s mind went blank. FM was in there too. FM, the one person he—No, No. She was fine. She had to be fine.
But there was no communication. No possible way to know if they were alright. Or not.
Rig grabbed Jorgen’s arm, voice cracking. “Are they alive?”
Jorgen hesitated, lips pressed into a thin line, face unreadable.
“Jorgen, are they alive?” Rig’s voice sounded almost desperate now.
Jorgen took a shake breath in. “I don’t know.”
Silence.
Rig’s breath turned shallow, his grip on Jorgen’s arm tightening until his knuckled turned bloodless.
Jorgen was lying. He had to be lying.
Because FM was fine. She was too clever, too resourceful to just… vanish. Right?
"Jorgen, what do you mean you don't know?" Rig's voice came out hoarse, barely controlled. He could feel his own panic bleeding through his skin.
Jorgen’s jaw twitched. "I mean I lost contact with them. I mean their scudding comms went dark, and I have no idea if they’re still breathing, Rodge." His voice was tight, his hands curling into fists again. "I mean I accidentally sent them to a place where people used to disappear because of a damn f*cking energy source, and now they’re might *never* come back. And nobody scudding knows *why*.”
The words slammed into Rig’s gut like a ton of bricks.
No. No, no, no. FM couldn’t be gone.
Rig reached for his own comms device, switching frequencies, toggling setting—doing anything, anything to just hear her voice.
But there was just static.
The kind that sounded hollow, empty, dead.
His vision blurred dangerously.
“I can’t—I can’t get anything—“
“I tried contacting Spensa multiple times already,” Jorgen muttered. His voice was too hollow, too grim. “It didn’t work.”
A cold, creeping sickness twisted in Rig’s gut.
“But—but it was working fine before,” he whispered, desperate. “Before they went inside—the signals were working.”
“I know.”
“So what happened?”
Jorgen didn’t answer. Instead, he just stood there, finger twitching at his sides—which was somehow worse than words.
Because Jorgen always had a plan. Jorgen always had a way out. Jorgen never let people die. Not if he could help it.
But right now, he was just standing there, still and silent, and Rig could see the fear and uncertainty seeping through the cracks of the carefully built walls in his mind.
A faint buzz from his datapad caught Rig’s attention. The screen started flickering and glitching—static overlapping whatever stats that were once displayed.
“Jorgen?” Rig said, glancing down at his datapad. “What the hell is going on?”
But before Jorgen could reply, the screen flickered one last time before revealing the message:
Y0U C4N’T SAV3 TH3M
Rig’s jaw dropped, his throat constricting painfully. Jorgen just stared at the staticky screen, eyes wide and unmoving.
“What. The. Scud. Is. That?” He choked out.
Rig forced in a violently trembling breath, setting the datapad down with a clink. “I need to go,” he blurted. “I need to get out of here—“
“Absolutely not.” Jorgen’s voice was sharp and he stepped in front of the door, blocking Rig’s path.
Rig scowled, trying to find a way out. “I have to go, Jorgen. Did you see the f*cking message it just displayed—“
“I said no!”
Rig froze.
Jorgen exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to his temple. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, more controlled.
“They’re my flight. I sent them out there,” Jorgen continued. “You don’t think I want to go in too? You don’t think I want to bring them back?” He exhaled. “But if you charge in blind, you’ll just disappear like them. And I—” His voice caught, barely. “I can’t afford to lose more people.”
Rig tried to stop shaking.
Jorgen had a point. It made sense. But scud, how was he just supposed to sit here? How was he supposed to do nothing, knowing FM was in there—that she could possibly be dead? And that datapad message just made things worse.
He gritted his teeth, pressing his nails into his palms, trying to keep himself from flying apart. His throat ached, and something burned behind his ribs,
Jorgen still stood in front of the door, looking like he wanted to mindblade everything in sight.
“We’ll find another way,” Jorgen said, voice low. “We’ll find out what happened. But we’ll do it right.”
Rig nodded, forcing the panic down his throat.
They were going to bring them back.
They had to.
Or else they were going to be next.

Chapter Text

The second Spensa blinked—it was closer.
It’s body shuddered, glitching between movements that shouldn’t be possible. One second—it was standing across the room, flashing its unnaturally wide smile. The next, it was so close that Spensa had to physically stifle back a scream when she saw its face in detail—the way it’s jaw unhinged, stretching too wide, peeling back decaying skin.
It rasped again, the noise cutting through the hazy panic like a knife.
And then, the green emergency lights flickered off.
The room was thrown into darkness. Suffocating, merciless darkness that chilled them to the very core.
Spensa’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts, fingers clenched so tightly around the trigger of her gun it might as well just snap in two.
She could feel Arturo’s presence beside her—steady, yet absolutely peteified.
But then—
A rasp. Right next to her scudding ear.
This is not happening, Spensa told herself internally, trying to reassure herself but failing miserably. This is not happening. THIS IS NOT F*CKING HAPPENING.
Something cold and unnatural pressed against her cheek. A breath? A touch? It’s too cold, too wrong, too light to be anything human.
She jerked back, but there was nowhere to go, her back slamming against the cool metal of the wall. The darkness was swallowing her whole—the rasping noise curling around her thoughts and sanity like smoke.
S0M3THING made a noise again. But this time, it wasn’t just rasping. It was… words.
"I kn0w y0u," it rasped, the words jagged—like a hundred voices trying to claw their way up one throat. Some high pitched. Some low pitched.
Every single one of them absolutely wrong.
S0M3THING twitched its lips. “I kn0w h0w y0u br34the. I kn0w h0w y0u bl33d,” it continued, turning its head as if it was surveying every single one of them. Then its gaze landed back on Spensa.
Her breath shuddered but she forced herself to keep steady.
The emergency lights flickered back on—still green, light bending at odd angles, but then Spensa saw it. Clearly.
Standing right in front of her.
It had a partially humanoid appearance—except for the fact that its limbs were far too long, the skin decaying and black. Its head was tilted too far towards the side-as if its neck had snapped but forgotten to fall off. Its lips peeled back, revealing a row of jagged, black teeth that were too long, too thin, too sharp. Its eyes were nothing but a black void.
FM took an unsteady step back, eyes wide, her knuckled bloodless around her datapad—glitching violently.
Kimmalyn appeared to have stopped breathing. She stared at it, eyes unblinking, fingers clasped so tightly around her gun they’d started to shake.
Nedd was shaking too, but not out of fear—out of fight. His teeth were bared, his hands clenched—as if he was one second away from lunging at it despite every survival instinct in his body screaming at him to run. But he’d never do that.
Arturo froze, all the color draining from his face. He raised his gun—trembling—pointing it at S0METH1NG, his fingers frozen over the trigger. Alanik was standing beside him, finger trembling, eyes cold and calculating as she brandished her gun again.
The lights flickered and S0M3TH1NG suddenly appeared closer, its grin widening as its empty black eyes bore into Spensa’s.
"I kn0w wh4t y0u’ll l00k l1ke wh3n y0u d1e,” It rasped, cold and wrong.
The words slithered into her skull like a snake, and a choked noise clawed its way up Spensa’s throat.
It leaned in closer, shadowed grin stretching wider, something slick and glistening where lips should have been.
"H3’ll br3ak wh3n y0u d0."
Spensa’s breath hitched, her stomach dropping like a stone flung off the edge of a cliff. No. No no no no no.
Something inside her twisted—a sick, wrenching feeling, like a parasite crawling it’s was up her throat.
That wasn’t a generic threat. That was targeted. It knew her. It knew about Jorgen.
Spensa’s breathing turned shallow, chest constricting painfully. Her pulse pounded in her ears, each beat hammering against her skull obnoxiously.
This thing wasn’t just some lurking horror. It was watching. It was aware.
Her vision wavered—green lights flickering—and something appeared even closer, tilting its head farther to the side, as if amused by her realization.
"W4nn4 h34r h1m scr34m?" it rasped, black teeth glinting in the dim light.
The words pushed through her ribs, lodging them somewhere deep inside her heart, spreading through her body like poison.
She tried to take another step back, but all she could do was slam further into the wall.
It doesn’t know him. It doesn’t get to talk about him.
Jorgen isn’t weak. Jorgen doesn’t break. He’s the strongest scudding person I know.
It’s lying. It has to be lying.
But the words wouldn’t leave her mind. Because what if it wasn’t lying?
No. No, no, NO.
It wasn’t real.
It couldn’t be real.
But the rusty walls felt too small, the dusty air too thick—like smoke clogging her lungs, making it impossible to breathe.
Her body locked up, coldness creeping into her veins as Spensa fought to keep herself steady.
The rasping noise curled around her bones, grotesque and splitting, like old meat being peeled off a bone.
"I kn0w wh4t h3’d l00k l1ke w1th h1s r1bs spl4yed 0p3n, t00.”
Spensa’s breath hitched. Something dark, something cold—something worse than fear settled itself into her mind, wrapping itself around thoughts like a lead rope. But it kept talking mercilessly.
"H1s lungs w0uld st1ll b3 m0v1ng."
No. No, no, no—NO.
"Stru66l1ng. Tw1tch1ng. St1ll trY1ng t0 br34the." It ran its tounge over its teeth.
Her vision blurred. Her ears rang. It wasn’t done.
"B3c4use I’d d0 it sl0w."
Spensa made a noise. A choked, uncharacteristically petrified noise—somewhere between a scream and a sob—like her own breath was trying to escape her body before she could.
"Y0u’d b3 th3r3, w0uldn’t y0u?"
Its face was now inches from hers, cold breath splaying against her cheek.
"1’ll m4ke sur3 t0 spl1t y0ur b0dy acr0ss h1s ch3st—"
It stopped mid sentence, empty eyes baring into Spensa’s soul, almost swallowing her whole.
"—and l3t h1m d1e feel1ng y0u squ1rm."
Something snapped inside her. The slow, creeping realization of horror spread through her lungs like icy water, her limbs growing heavier and heavier.
Her breath shuddered—
—and then—
—nothing.
The word tilted. Her mind stopped. Her knees buckled, her body giving out as she crumpled to the floor in a motionless heap, heart thudding weakly in her chest.
The last thing she heard before unconsciousness took over her was someone screaming her name.

Chapter Text

Arturo had always prided himself on being composed. Logical. A steady anchor through the chaos. A rational mind in disasters. But as he saw Spensa crumple to the floor like a puppet that just had its strings cut, something inside him… snapped.
His pulse slammed in his ribs, panic constricting his chest.
“SPENSA!?”
The word tore from his throat, desperate and panicked—because Spensa never crumbled.
She never broke. Never faltered.
Spensa was always the one making the snarky, defiant remarks—even in the worst situations. She’d literally faced down Delvers, towed away a lifebuster, helped them defeat the scudding Superiority and survived.
But this? This wasn’t normal.
She didn’t throw out some ridiculous insult. She didn’t lunge at it, eyes blazing, teeth bared as she brandished her gun to rip it to shreds.
She’d scudding collapsed. She was a motionless heap on the floor. Devoid of all her usual fire. And Arturo had seen the look of unfiltered horror and dread etched into her expression right before she fell.
And that? That had made it a hundred times worse. It scared him more than anything.
He scrambled over to her, green lights flickering, casting twisted shawls across her limp body. Was she breathing? Was she… alive?
Doomslug trilled shrilly from her side, the noice high-pitched and panicked.
Scud, even Doomslug knew something was horribly wrong.
“Spensa,” he tried again, voice wavering slightly this time. But she didn’t move.
He shook her slightly, but her head just lolled hopelessly to the side.
His throat tightened, pulse roaring in his ears as he carefully pressed two fingers against the cold skin of her neck—praying, hoping—for a pulse.
A small, fluttering thump met his touch.
A hard wave of relief crashed over him, nearly stealing his breath. But the weak pulse wasn’t enough. She wasn’t waking up. She wasn’t moving.
FM crouched down beside him, stetting her datapad aside and placing Doomslug on her other shoulder. “Is she alive?” FM asked, voice trembling, eyes roaming over Spensa’s crumpled form.
Arturo nodded, words lodging in his throat. “She’s alive. But her pulse is weak.”
FM’s gaze flickered to Arturo, then Spensa, eyes narrowing as she processed the situation. “Do you know what S0M3TH1NG told her?” She said, voice low but concerned.
He shook his head, the cold knot of panic in his stomach only tightening. “I don’t know, FM, but whatever it said—it was bad,” his voice caught slightly.
“How horrifying would the words have to be to make Spensa, of all people, collapse?”
FM shuddered. “I can’t even imagine.”
Behind them, Nedd let out a feral growl, stepping in front of them, fists trembling as he raised his gun into the air. Kimmalyn walked over, taking Doomslug from FM and
setting her blaster to ‘lethal’.
S0M3TH1NG was still standing before them, body shuddering as it took another step forward.
Its form rippled, like liquid darkness struggling to hold its form as it straightened its head for the first time, bearing its jagged black teeth.
“0n3 d0wn,” it rasped, something black and glistening dripping from its lips. “F1ve m0r3 t0 g0.”
Scudding hell.
Nedd didn’t hesitate. He fired.
The shot rippled through the air, a streak of bright red light cutting towards the entity.
And then—
Nothing.
The bolt should have hit. Should have done *something*. Instead it vanished. Like a spark dropped into an abyss.
S-0M3TH1NG tilted its head, an unsettling crackling sound following the rough motion.
Then, it laughed.
A distorted, grating noise—like radio static mixed with something almost human.
“N0t ev3n cl0s3,” it whispered.
Nedd stiffened, fingers tightening on his gun. “Oh, scud.”
FM swore under her breath, gripping her datapad, eyes scanning frantically. “It’s absorbing the energy,” she muttered. “That means—”
But the rest of her sentence drowned out as its head snapped towards Arturo, toothy grin widening.
It didn’t even have eyes—just two black, empty voids—but Arturo could practically feel its unnatural gaze burning into his soul.
His breath hitched as the temperature seemed to drop, the air pressing down on him like gravity itself had changed.
He shot to his feet instinctively, trying to create distance between him and the rest of his flight by moving sideways.
Spensa. FM. Nedd. Kimmalyn.
They still needed to get out of here alive.
And he wasn’t about to let some thing—some godforsaken horror—get in the way of that.
If S0M3TH1NG wanted to target him, he’d make sure he was all alone.
The lights flickered once more and S0M3TH1NG appeared closer, and Arturo shivered at the noise it made while taking a step forward—a crack, almost like the sound of breaking bones.
Arturo took a hesitant step farther to the side, heart hammering in his throat as it loomed before him. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around what this scudding thing *was*. It wasn’t just some mindless creature. It wasn’t just some entity made of glitches and shadows.
It was aware. It was watching.
It rasped again, lifting one of its elongated limbs, before turning it’s head back to towards his flight.
Scud. Scudscudscudscudscud.
He tried to take a step back, but his foot caught on something. A metal tile.
And instead of groaning under his weight like all the others did, this one gave a hollow rattle.
Arturo barely kept himself from jumping at the noise, heart hammering in his ribs.
That was different.
Different meant important.
Why did that tile rattle?
Arturo clenched his eyes shut, ignoring S0M3TH1NG, trying to remember the events of the past few days.
The highlighted path on the datapad had led to this room—to find the energy source; the reason they were here in the first place. But when they’d entered the room, there was nothing here. No energy source. And then they’d gotten locked in.
But why had the datapad scanner led them here? Into a room with no way out except the door they came in? Surely the energy signature had to be somewhere, right?
His stomach flipped as realization clicked into place.
The energy source wasn’t in this metal room. It was below them. The rattling tile probably had some sort of tunnel underneath it that led to the energy source.
That’s why the datapad scanner led them here.
And maybe the energy source could help them get out of this platform.
With a cautionary glance Arturo stepped away from the tile, inching towards Alanik, who was standing closest to him. She could reach it.
But not if S0M3TH1NG saw her.
“Angel,” he hissed through his teeth, barely audible. “Do you see that tile?”
Alanik followed his gaze, nodding. “What about it?”
Arturo swallowed hard. “When I distract S0M3TH1NG, I need you to go to that tile—as silently as possible. There’s a passage beneath it—and I think it leads to the energy source.”
Alanik nodded, her gaze focused and calculating. “You’re sure it leads to the energy source?”
Arturo hesitated. “I’m not a hundred percent sure… but you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Alanik—“
She met his gaze, violet eyes steady despite the tension. “I trust you,” she murmured. “If you think it’s there, I’ll go find it.”
Arturo’s breath caught. Then, to his surprise, he took half a step closer. “Be careful.”
Alanik’s lips curved upwards—just slightly. “You too.”
Then, before he could think better of it, before he could stop himself, he leaned down, cupping her face and giving her a fleeting kiss.
“Go,” he whispered.
Alanik braced herself in the shadows, inching towards the rattling tile.
Now, Arturo had to move. He had to draw its attention away.
Then, in one sharp motion, he shoved off the wall, walking towards the entity with more confidence than he felt.
His gaze flickered back to S0M3TH1NG, still standing in front of the rest of the flight, oblivious to his plan. He could see the others visibly tense—Nedd clutching his gun too tightly, FM looking like she was ready to bolt, and Kimmalyn whispering a silent prayer while trying to comfort Doomslug. Spensa was still unconscious.
Slowly, deliberately, Arturo took a step forward, putting himself between S0M3TH1NG and the Flight.
"You like to talk, don't you?" His voice came out steadier than he felt, but the slight wavering in his hands betrayed him. "Then talk to me."
Its head snapped toward him. It didn't have eyes, but he felt its focus shift.
"Arturo—" Kimmalyn started, but he lifted a hand. “Stay back.”
S0M3TH1NG’s head turned to face Arturo—a sick crinkling noise following the movement. Then—it laughed again.
The same, distorted, warbling sound, consisting of all the high-pitched and low-pitched voices that clawed their ways up its throat.
Arturo fought the overpowering urge to shudder.
He saw Alanik move in his peripheral vision.
Arturo forced himself not to turn his head. Not to react as, just beyond his vision, Alanik slipped soundlessly towards the tile, her movements slow, carefully calculated.
S0M3TH1NG took another step, its ghastly limbs stretching and twisting. The shadows around it darkened, lengthening in unnatural ways.
Then, it smiled wider, matterless eyes baring into his soul.
“Y0u c4n scr3am h3r n4m3 w1th y0ur dy1ng br34th, Artur0,” it rasped, darkness bleeding from its mouth like tar. “Sh3 w0n’t h34r y0u. Sh3 w0n’t l00k b4ck.”
Arturo clenched his fists, dread entering his chest, despite his attempts to repress it.
Alanik… wouldn’t care? Wouldn’t even notice if he died?
No. That wasn’t true.
It couldn’t be true.
Don’t listen to it. Focus. FOCUS.
"That’s not true" Arturo shot back, voice shaking slightly. "And even if it was—" his grip on his blaster tightened, his pulse hammering against his ribs. “I’d still die fighting you.”
It tilted its head farther, as if amused by his response. Then, it lifted one of its elongated limbs, rotting fingers reaching for Arturo’s wrist.
Arturo didn’t know what had gotten into him. He lunged, grabbing S0METH1ING’s arm before its fingers could wrap around his with the force of a lead rope. Its skin felt cold, unnatural—simply wrong.
It turns out, though, Arturo had underestimated its abilities.
It broke free of Arturo’s grip and grabbed his wrist in a flash, turning it around and pushing it against the wall.
The crack was deafening.
White hot agony exploded through his limb, raw and blinding, as something inside him snapped. S0M3TH1NG let go of his arm, but Arturo barely registered it.
The pain was so intense, so sudden that his vision tunneled, gut wrenching.
He gasped, staggering, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts. His arm—scudding hell, his arm—
It shouldn’t bend that way.
His stomach lurched. Scud, he was going to be sick.
But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—fall. Not now.
Not with that thing still standing before him. Grinning with its jagged black teeth.
He still needed to distract it. Alanik still needed to escape.
But just as he was about to do something, anything—he saw it.
A flicker of lilac—the silver glint of her flight suit—and then she was gone,slipping through the opening in the tile, silent as a shadow.
Arturo exhaled sharply, exchanging glances with his Flight.
Concern was etched into their expressions, eyes having over his broken arm.
But Arturo didn’t care about it for now.
Now he just had to keep this thing distracted long enough for her to get what they needed.
He swallowed hard and turned back to face the monster, hands shaking, sweat lining his spine.
But it was gone.
The shadows pulsed where it had once been, the pain in his arm throbbing violently.
Arturo knew it wouldn’t be gone for long, though.
But at least he’d bought them some time.
Scud, that energy source was their only hope.

Chapter Text

Light.
It crept through the darkness, soft and flickering, dragging Spensa slowly towards consciousness.
Pain followed, dull at first—just a weight in her chest, a heavy throbbing in her skull.
Where… was she?
Spensa could feel cold metal against her back… was she laying against the floor? And as she lifted her eyelids—just slightly—she saw it. The unnatural green color of the emergency light.
Scud, were they still trapped in that rusty metal room?
But then, as her mind clawed itself farther towards wakefulness, it hit her.
The words.
Her lungs clawed for air as if she’d been drowning. Her throat closed.
The rust-streaked walls of the platform pressed in around her, suffocating—too small.
But before she could register it—hands gripped her shoulders, steady and firm.
"Stars, Spin, are you okay?!" FM’s voice, sharp with concern, jolted her further awake, cutting through the haze.
She swallowed, forcing the bile back down her throat, blinking past the four blurred silhouettes that surrounded her, expressions ranging from panicked to downright tensed—FM, Kimmalyn, Arturo, Nedd… but where the scud was Alanik?
She pushed herself up on her elbows, heart thudding. “What… happened?” Spensa rasped, blinking groggily.
Doomslug fluted happily at the sound of Spensa’s voice.
"You passed out," Kimmalyn said, clutching Doomslug against her chest. "One second you were fine, maybe a bit tense, and then—" She cut herself off, jaw tightening, placing Doomslug next to Spensa.
“You collapsed, Spensa,” FM continued, her voice laced with concern. You didn’t respond to anything. Doomslug was freaking out.”
Collapsed. Like a weak little girl.
Spensa blinked rapidly, still dazed. “I…” She rubbed her temples, taking her head in her hands. Scudding hell, she felt like she’d been hit by a sledgehammer.
Her heart still hadn’t settled, thumping against her sternum with the weight of the words S0METH1NG had spoken to her.
It knew her.
It knew Jorgen.
But how?
She glanced around the room, half expecting something to step forward, bearing its toothy black grin. “Is it still here?”
“No,” Arturo answered, his voice not as composed as it usually was, sounding almost strained. Why did he sound like that?
But then, Spensa saw it. His left arm was hanging limp, twisted at an unnatural angle.
He stood rigidly, eyebrows knitted together in pain, beads of sweat clinging to his forehead. “It’s gone for now.”
Spensa ignored the answer, eyes widening. “F*cking hell, Arturo, what happened to your arm?”
Arturo hid it behind his back, the movement making him wince. “It’s fine. Just a little… fractured. It’s no big deal.” Even through the pain in his expression, his concern for her was clear. “Spensa—what did it say to you?”
All four of them were staring at her. Spensa clenched her fists, ignoring the way they trembled. She couldn’t tell them. Couldn’t say the words out loud. It would make it more real. Would make it something that existed beyond the borders of her own mind.
But she had to tell them. They deserved to know just how horrid S0M3TH1NG could be. They had to know exactly what they were dealing with.
She exhaled shakily. "It said… things I wish I’d never heard."
Silence.
FM’s grip on her arm tightened. "What did it say?"
Spensa forced herself to lift her head, meeting their gazes. Her breath felt like lead in her lungs, but Spensa forced herself to speak anyways.
“It said…” Her voice cracked. Stars, no. She wasn’t going to break. Not again.
She took another deep breath in, firmer this time. Doomslug trilled encouragingly from her lap.
"It said it knows what I’ll look like when I die."
Kimmalyn made a noise of horror.
“It said…” She swallowed, throat dry and dusty, tongue like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. “It said Jorgen would break when I do. Scud, I don’t know how it even knows about him.”
FM inhaled sharply. Gill had gone silent on her shoulder.
Spensa clenched her jaw. Keep going. Get it out. Don’t let it win.
"It asked if I wanted to hear him scream," she continued, voice just a little less steady now. "Said it knows what he’d look like with his ribs splayed open. Said his lungs would still be moving. Twitching. That he’d still be trying to breathe. That it would—" her breath hitched, nausea curling low in her stomach, "—it would kill him slow."
Arturo visibly paled, blinking.
Kimmalyn’s hand flew to her mouth, unfiltered horror glittering her eyes.
Nedd muttered a curse under his breath.
FM looked sick.
“It finished by saying—,” Spensa pushed forward, voice finally cracking slightly as her body trembled. "That it would slit my body across his chest and let him die feeling me squirm."
Dead silence.
The air turned heavy, the silence almost suffocating. No one moved. No one breathed.
Spensa shuddered, an uncomfortable chill running up her spine. She clenched her fingers, nails digging into her palms so hard they’d probably leave little crescent-shaped marks in their wakes.
But Spensa had to focus. Even through the suffocating fear. And besides… Spensa still didn’t know why Alanik wasn’t here.
“Arturo… what happened while I was unconscious?” Spensa murmured, voice barely above a whisper as her eyes scanned the room again.
Arturo exhaled, looking at the floor for a moment before turning his gaze back to her. “After you collapsed… it spoke. It said one down, five more to go.’”
Spensa’s eyes narrowed.
“Nedd fired at it, but the shot just… disappeared. Like it was never there. FM figured it was just absorbing the energy—so our guns were practically useless.”
Spensa tilted her head, considering. “And then?”
Arturo swallowed hard. "Then it turned to me. Started watching me. Like it was waiting for something." He hesitated. "I moved away from the group, tried to pull its focus. But it turned its focus back on our Flight. And when I tried to do something else... I stepped on a specific tile. And instead of groaning under my weight like all the others did—it rattled. A hollow rattle.”
Spensa raised an eyebrow. “So?”
“That was different. Every tile in this room is solid metal. So it didn’t make sense for anything to give a hollow rattle unless it was loose—with a lot of space underneath it. And you remember how the datapad led us here, right?”
Spensa nodded, her mind already pitting the pieces together. “You think the energy source is below us—under that tile, right?”
"I know it is. I think there is a tunnel underneath it—one that leads to the energy signature. The scanner led us to this room for a reason. But we didn’t see anything—because we weren’t looking below us. That tile was a way down."
Spensa inhaled sharply. "So you sent Alanik."
Arturo nodded. "She was closest to me. I told her to go while I distracted it. She slipped through while I kept its attention on me."
Spensa’s gaze traveled to his broken arm.
Arturo sighed. "It... got to me before she made it through. Said things. Tried to make me believe she wouldn’t care if I died." He gave a dry, humorless laugh. "Guess I should’ve known it was trying to mess with me, but it—" He shook his head. "It didn’t matter. I wasn’t going to let it stop her."
Spensa clenched her jaw. “And that’s how you broke your arm.”
“Yeah,” he replied, his gaze lowering to his left arm. His fingers twitched, as if he could still feel the deafening snap of bone, the painful throbbing of his pulse.
"It made a move for my wrist, but I lunged for its arm. I underestimated its abilities, apparently. It broke free of my grip, grabbed my arm, twisting it and slamming it into the wall. Hard. I think it wanted to make an example out of me."
Spensa’s eyes darkened, fingers running through Doomslug’s spikes comfortingly.
“But,” Arturo continued, voice quieter. “She made it through. And then S0M3TH1NG vanished right after.”
Silence again.
“Arturo,” Spensa said, her voice hard. “You could have *died*.”
“I know.”
Spensa forced in a breath, the fear clawing at her throat. Alanik had gotten away. But had she really?
“And what about Alanik? How do you know she found the energy source?”
“I don’t. But—“ he paused, running his good hand through his hair. “I’m getting her back. Even if it means going through that scudding tunnel.”
“Arturo,” FM started, but Arturo didn’t let her finish.
“I don’t scudding care about my arm, FM. I care about *her*. I won’t leave her alone. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
Nedd let out a soft curse under his breath, but it was clear he was on her side. FM nodded, agreeing, and even Kimmalyn’s grip on her gun tightened in silent agreement.
They would find Alanik.
And if they had to face S0M3TH1NG again to do it, then they would.
Spensa didn’t say anything, but the expression on her face told Arturo everything he needed to know. She was with him.
They were going to find Alanik in that tunnel.
And after they’d found her, they were getting the hell out of this platform.
They weren’t going to let S0M3TH1NG tear them apart.

Chapter Text

Spensa exhaled, crouching by the loose tile, Doomslug perched contentedly on her shoulder. Arturo’s discovery had been right after all—it rattled hollowly beneath her feet, just slightly, as if there was a lot of empty space underneath it.
She glanced up at the others. FM had her arms crossed, face set in concentrated determination. Kimmalyn was steadying the beam of her spare flashlight—their only hope if Arturo’s faltered for what felt like the hundredth time. Nedd cracked his knuckles in anticipation. Arturo, his broken arm held stiffly against his chest, looked ready to throw himself into the darkest depths if it meant finding Alanik.
“Okay,” Spensa said, standing up. “We do this fast. Quiet. The sooner we get Alanik and figure out what the hell the energy source is, the sooner we get the scud out of here.”
The group nodded.
Nedd crouched down, wedged his fingers between the edges of the tile and yanked. It came off quite easily—popping free with nothing but the noises of metal scraping. A wave of stale, cold air rushed upwards, carrying the scent of rust and… something Spensa didn’t wasn’t to acknowledge.
Kimmalyn peered down first. “Oh. That looks like a long way down.”
A narrow metal latter descended into the unlit darkness, the rungs rusty and slightly crooked. At first glance, it looked even worse than the main corridors of the Platform.
“Well, we can’t just stay up here,” Arturo said grimly, turning his flashlight on.
“She definitely came this way?” FM asked, peering into the hole, eyebrows raised.
“Undoubtedly,” Arturo said, his voice tight. “There’s no other way.”
Spensa nodded once, swinging herself into the ladder. “Then we go after her.”
One by one, they climbed down.
The rungs were rusted and unsteady, the width of them certainly inconvenient. Spensa placed her feet carefully on each one—hand over hand, step by step—so she wouldn’t end up slipping off and falling into the darkness below.
The climb wasn’t too long—but the heavy silence and darkness stretched time into something suffocating. And to make things even worse, Spensa had noticed a small, wet patch on one of the walls. Something darker than human blood.
But she didn’t tell anyone. The last thing they needed was full-blown panic.
The moment Spensa’s boots hit the floor, she turned, heart pounding. “Alanik?” she called softly.
No response.
“She couldn’t have gotten far,” Arturo murmured as he dropped down beside her, his broken arm now held stiffly to his side.
The air below was thick and damp, smelling of rust and something faintly metallic—like blood and ozone.
Their boots scuffed against the uneven floor, the noise echoing through the darkness.
“Alanik?” Arturo tried again.
Still no answer.
They moved forward in a tight formation, the small beam of light guiding their way through the darkness. The tunnel was much tighter than the corridors above, closing in on them like a giant ribcage. The further in they went, the more Spensa’s instincts screamed at her to turn back. What if S0M3TH1NG found them again?
“Why is it so quiet?” Kimmalyn asked, her voice a soft murmur.
No one answered.
They walked on in silence, occasionally broken by Nedd making dry jokes (nobody laughed) or one of the slugs’ hesitant little flutes.
The further they walked, the colder the air became.
A faint sound—suspiciously like a rasping breath—made Spensa whirl. But there was nothing. Nothing as far as she could see, at least.
The tunnel walls felt… damp. But when Spensa brushed her fingers against them, the wetness was sticky.
“Maybe it’s just… oil?" Kimmalyn whispered, ever the optimist.
Spensa highly doubted that, but brushed the thought away for now.
The air felt heavier by each growing second.
FM muttered that her datapad was glitching slightly.
Spensa chose not to acknowledge that (again).
But as they walked on even further, they saw it. And this time, Spensa breathed a small sight of relief.
A faint, pulsing glow. Not far ahead.
They approached cautiously, each step carefully placed and tentative.
The narrow corridor opened into a wide, circular chamber, the rocks surrounding it a lighter shade and smoother texture than the ones in the corridor.
And there, placed into a small opening on the right side of a wall, was a rock—medium sized, jagged, and pulsating with glowing energy.
“Oh scud,” Nedd said, taking a cautionary step towards it. “What is that?”
Light slithered under small cracks in its jagged surface, slow and rhythmic, like the heartbeat of something sentient. It pulsed in deep reds and sickly greens, shifting in a way that made Spensa’s vision swim before realization hit her like a freight train.
“Red and green,” she breathed. “Just like the emergency light settings,”
FM stepped forward, her gaze traveling to her datapad’s scanner. The highlighted path that led them here was now complete, the message ‘Energy Signature Nearby’ displayed on its digital screen.
“This is it,” she whispered, her gaze transfixed on the rock. “This has to be it.”
Gill fluted happily.
Arturo nodded. “Alright… but where’s Alanik?”
Then, before anyone could answer—
A voice. Slightly strained, but still steady.
“…Took you guys long enough.”
Spensa’s head snapped toward the direction of the voice.
And there—on the far side of the chamber—was Alanik.
She was leaning against the rocky wall, one knee scraped and bloody, but otherwise mostly unhurt. Her pale purple eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
“Thank the stars,” Arturo breathed, already striding toward her.
Alanik exhaled in relief, meeting their gazes. “You came.”
“Of course we came,” Arturo said, his voice quiet but fierce. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Alanik muttered. “Mostly.” She shot an exasperated glance towards her knee.
“I guess… we found it?” Kimmalyn asked, nodding towards the glowing rock.
Alanik nodded, glancing towards it. “Yeah. And I think we can take it.”
Nedd stared at the pulsating energy source.
“Take it?” He repeated. “Are you *sure* we can just pick it up and leave?”
Alanik gaze a small, sharp smile. “Of course. Unless you want to leave empty handed.”
Spensa strode towards the rock, reaching inside the opening and placing her hands on the rock. It didn’t react.
With a deep breath, she tightened her grip on the rock and pulled it out. It came out quite easily, barely making a sound as Spensa stared at it, glowing, shifting—the scudding reason they came to this dammed Platfrom in the first place.
The floor beneath them gave a sudden, ominous shudder.
The rock’s red and green glow flared.
Scud, they had to move. Fast.
FM, taking Arturo’s flashlight, led the way, her strides long as the beam shone down the tunnel. Eventually, they reached the metal ladder.
Spensa went first, gripping the rust ladder rungs tightly as she hauled herself up. The metal groaned under her weight—brittle from age and lack of use.
Behind her, FM climbed next, followed by Alanik—who has helping Arturo up because of his broken arm (Spensa could see him blushing slightly under the flashlight beam). Kimmalyn and Nedd came last—Kimmalyn carrying the slugs, Nedd carrying the energy source, which was wrapped in a spare jacket. It was still pulsing, the faint red and green lights seeping through the fabric, casting eerie shadows over the tunnel walls.
Every movement felt too loud.
Every breath felt too sharp.
Spensa reached the opening first, shoving the tile aside and pushing herself up into the metal room.
And then—she froze.
The others climbed out behind her, one by one, until they all stood together hearts pounding, breathing uneven. Kimmalyn slid the rattling tile back into place.
But as they straightened up and glanced around—they froze too.
Because the room wasn’t how they left it.
The walls were streaked with something black and wet, smeared in long, jagged lines like claw marks.
Kimmalyn swallowed audibly. “I don’t think S0M3TH1NG liked the fact that we disappeared.”
No scudding kidding.
The air felt charged, humming with something invisible and wrong.
A slow, rhythmic knocking echoed from the corridor outside, bashing against the metal door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Spensa’s breath hitched.
It was still here.
And it knew. It knew they’d left, even if momentarily.
And Spensa didn’t think it would be very pleased about that.

Chapter Text

The emergency lights flickered violently. Spensa’s breath came fast and shallow, her pulse hammering against her skull like a war drum. The knocking was becoming more persistent now. The tunnel—their only hope—had no exit. Even if they’d found the energy source, things weren’t looking so hopeful.
It would appear—any second now—and Spensa wasn’t sure it would let them live this time.
“We need to find a way out of here,” FM said sharply, her gaze fixed on the door as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows. “Now.”
"Yeah? And where exactly do you want us to go, FM?" Nedd snapped, voice tight with stress. "Because unless you plan on breaking down that scudding door with your mind, we're trapped! And it’s coming for us!”
The words stung. Because he was right.
Alanik shook her head, blood from her scraped knee still dripping. “It doesn’t even need a door… it’s like it just materializes out of thin air. So why the scud is it… knocking like that?”
Arturo’s face was pale beneath the sweat clinging to his forehead. His arm hung at an unnatural angle, but he barely seemed to care about the pain anymore. “To mess with our minds,” he replied, his gaze hard. “It wants us to be afraid.”
“What do we do?” Kimmalyn whispered, her voice barely audible.
Nobody answered.
Spensa bit her lip. If they hesitated too long, S0M3TH1NG would—
She turned toward the door again. Rusted. Solid. Locked. The knocking came to a momentary halt. She could still remember the way her own boots had slammed against it days ago, how it hadn’t even budged the slightest bit.
The silence was somehow worse than the knocking.
A single, wavering breath rasped through the metal. Scud.
FM tensed beside her, her datapad flickering once more. “We need to get out of here.”
“How?!” Nedd hissed, the glowing rock clutched tightly against his chest. “There’s no f*cking way out!”
Spensa scanned the room frantically. There has to be something, anything—
But then—something else struck her.
The way it shook. Even when it wasn’t knocking.
Back when S0M3TH1NG had first gotten in, the door was banging. The hinges had groaned. The temperature had dropped. The emergency lights had flickered and changed their scudding color.
That thing… it wasn’t just a shadow. It had some sort of weight. It had… energy.
Energy that could be useful for breaking the door open.
Her mind snapped the pieces together so suddenly and unexpectedly that it nearly stole her breath.
She turned to the rest of the team, eyes wide. "I know how we get out."
Alanik blinked. “How?”
Spensa set her jaw. “We let it in."
Silence.
“…Scud, I’m sorry, WHAT?” Nedd blurted.
“You heard me.” Spensa clenched her fists, fingers still trembling. “That thing doesn’t just lurk in the shadows. It rattles the doors. It changes the temperature. It makes the lights flicker and change color. That means it has energy, doesn’t it? And.. What if it can do more than that?”
Arturo’s expression darkened. “So, you’re saying… it can open the door?”
Spensa nodded. “Not on purpose. This whole time we’ve been afraid of it—making it feel powerful, invincible. But what if this time, we don’t act on fear? But what if we made it… angry somehow?”
Alanik nodded her head, considering. “And how exactly do you think we can do that?”
Spensa thought for a moment, pulse racing. “We show it that we’re not afraid. We force it into a frenzy, and the anger would probably have enough energy to rattle the door hinges and let it break free.”
“We’re baiting it,” FM realized, voice barely above a whisper.
Spensa forced herself to look at them. “Does anyone else have a better idea?”
No one answered.
The only sound was the faint hum of the glowing rock and the groaning of the metal floor under their combined weight.
“We have to be fast,” Spensa continued. “If it comes all the way in, I’m pretty sure we’re dead. But if we make it freak out from the other side of the door…” She exhaled wearily. “It might break us out.”
Nedd grinned, but it was tense, strained . “Alright, I love this plan. It’s stupid. Let’s do it.”
Arturo sighed through gritted teeth. “I hate everything about this. But… I guess it’s our only hope.”
Kimmalyn made a quick prayer to the Saint.
And then Spensa turned, walked toward the door, sucked in a breath, and shouted.
“HEY, UGLY! YEAH, YOU!” Her voice echoed through the metal room. “STOPPED KNOCKING? WHAT, YOU SCARED TO COME OUT? GONNA LURK IN THE SHADOWS LIKE A COWARD? COME ON, YOU RUSTING PIECE OF SCUD—SHOW YOURSELF!”
The air dropped ten degrees in a second.
The emergency lights flickered violently.
Arturo’s eyes were wide with panic. “Seriously, Spensa, THAT is how you choose to make it angry?!”
Spensa rolled her eyes. “How else do you reckon we make it angry, Amphi?”
He didn’t answer.
The air shifted once more, a rasping noise cutting through the darkness.
Spensa clenched her fists harder, turning back towards the door. "THAT'S RIGHT! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME, YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SH*T! YOU LIKE PLAYING GAMES? WELL, PLAY THIS—"
She grabbed a piece of scrap metal from the floor hurled it at the door. It slammed against the metal with a deafening bang.
The walls shuddered.
The hinges groaned.
The emergency lights snapped out—plunging them into almost darkness.
And then—
Rasping.
S0M3TH1NG appeared in the far corner of the room, and when Spensa looked at it, she froze, her limbs trembling. Its lips—normally curved upwards in an unnaturally wide, toothy grin—were curved downwards in what looked like a murderous frown. Its jagged black teeth protruded dangerously, dripping with something dark and oily.
That frown looked a hundred times worse than the grin. Its empty black gaze was fixed on Spensa.
It’s form vibrated with energy, like liquid darkness struggling to hold its shape, and then, as the lights flickered harder and the walls creaked louder—
The door slammed open with a screech of metal, so violently it bent against the hinges.
The corridors lay ahead of them, rusty, undress, and illuminated by the faint glow of *red* emergency lights.
Spensa grabbed Doomslug in one swift motion and RAN.
The others were right behind her, feet pounding against the metal floor, breaths ragged, gasping—running into the rusty metal corridors Spensa had never thought she’d be relieved to see.
Arturo’s flashlight illuminated their path, the beam barely shining off the rusty metal walls.
There was a faint ratting noise echoing through the hallway.
Spensa didn’t look back. The exit was the only thing on her mind.
The sound of their frantic footsteps reverberated through the corridor, each stride longer than the last. Spensa’s heart thrummed faster than ever, her breath shallow as the glow of the emergency lights cast eerie shadows all around them.
They ran and ran, the air thick with the smell of must and decay as the essence of S0M3TH1NG’s presence lingered in the distance. It wasn’t over. Not now. Not until they found the scudding exit.
Arturo led the way, flashing wavering as they twisted and turned through the maze of rusty corridors. His left arm hung limp—looking like it could give way at any moment.
But he ignored it and kept going. He had to.
Kimmalyn's breath came in quick bursts, her voice a shaky whisper behind Spensa. "How much further? What’s the plan? We can't just keep running! We don’t know where to go!”
Spensa’s mind was racing. The energy source was sill with them, balled into Nedd’s spare flight jacket, the key to whatever lay ahead. But now, they needed to focus. The needed to find the exit, hop into their starfighters, and hyperjump away—fast. But all she could hear was the rasping, rattling noise behind them.
Closer now.
Spensa’s eyes darted around as they rounded another corner, emergency lights flickering more erratically.
“F*ck,” Nedd muttered under his breath, clutching the glowing rock even tighter as if it might protect them somehow. “It’s following us.”
“No sh*t,” FM snapped, breathless, her voice tight with fear. “Keep moving!”
Nobody needed to be told twice.
Spensa pushed herself harder, her heartbeat and the rhythmic thumping of her boots drowning out the sounds of metal closing in.
And then—
A low sound cut through the dark.
It was coming. S0M3TH1NG wasn’t wasting any time.
“We need to—” Spensa began, but her words were interrupted by a sharp rasp from behind.
A shadow flickered in the beam of Arturo’s flashlight. S0M3TH1NG was gaining on them, moving faster than they’d ever excepted. Its figure was practically vibrating with rage, black teeth glistening in the dim light.
Spensa spun, grabbing Doomslug tighter, her mind scrambling for a way to fight back or leave. There had to be something. Anything.
“Arturo, where the hell are we going?” she shouted, heart racing.
He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the corridor, dark brown irises darting rapidly. “There! The exit should just be further ahead!”
Spensa’s stomach twisted with dread and hopelessness. They’d been running for what felt like hours—how much further could they go without collapsing? Would they even make it out alive?
And then, with the screech of claws scraping against metal, S0M3TH1NG *leapt*.
Spensa barely had time to react. It was all on instinct—she pushed forward, shoving the others ahead of her as one of its elongated limbs reached for them.
The corridors were getting narrower, the flickering lights barely existent as S0M3TH1NG’s form darkened the space.
She could feel the cold, empty void of its stare from behind her.
Scud, it was still gaining on them.
Spensa’s lungs burned and her body screamed for air—but she didn’t dare slow down. The rasping breath behind them was too close. She shoved forward, grabbing Doomslug tighter, barely aware of anything else around her.
The exit. It had to be close.
“How much further?!” She yelled.
“There!” Arturo gasped, pointing as they turned towards the final corner—a rusted door, half open, at the end of the corridor. The same one they’d come in through. Beyond it, the docking bay. Their starfighters.
Hope surged in Spensa’s chest, burning away all thoughts. But then—
BANG.
The walls rattled. The emergency lights flickered. S0M3TH1NG was right behind them.
Arturo reached the half-open door first, grabbing it with his right arm and pulling with all his might. “Come on, come on, COME ON—“
It wouldn’t budge. And the opening wasn’t wide enough for any of them to get through.
"Scud, it's stuck!" FM cursed. “Those dammed rusty hinges—“
A rasping, distorted laugh echoed behind them—highs pitched and low pitched voices clawing their ways up one throat. The temperature plummeted down. Spensa whipped around to see it.
S0M3TH1NG loomed in the corridor, its dark, rotting form blocking the way like a shadow, jagged black teeth (lips still frowning) gleaming in the red glow.
No. They were so close. They went dying here because of a stuck door.
Spensa tried to help Arturo, accompanied by Kimmalyn and Alanik. They pulled and pulled, using all their weight, but it still didn’t budge. Until FM had an idea.
"Nedd, the rock—use the scudding energy source!"
Nedd, wide-eyed, unwrapped the glowing rock from his flight jacket. "HOW—"
Spensa cut him off. "I don’t know, just—SCUDDING DO SOMETHING!"
He didn’t question her. With a half-panicked, half-determined noise, he *slammed* the glowing rock onto the door.
The energy surged. The metal hinges screeched. S0M3TH1NG rasped.
And then—
The door swung open violently. The weight of the rock must have helped.
The inertia threw them backwards, sending them sprawling across the cold metal floor just close to S0M3TH1NG’s feet.
Spensa barely caught herself, gasping as she pushed up and scrambled away. The starfighters sat ahead of the exit—gleaming, waiting…
"GO, GO, GO!" she shouted.
Everyone scrambled out the exit like frightened mice, heading toward their starfighters. Spensa felt her Cytonic senses come flooding back to her.
Arturo, despite his injured arm—which now looked worse than ever, threw himself into his cockpit. Nedd yanked open his canopy violently, practically falling inside. FM and Kimmalyn vaulted in like their lives depended on it—because they did. Alanik just straight up hyperjumped into hers.
Spensa squinted at the sudden exposure to light, leaped into M-Bot’s cockpit, clutching Doomslug tightly against her chest.
Behind them, the corridor shuddered.
A low, grating snarl echoed through the docking bay as S0M3TH1NG emerged, void eyes colder than ever.
“Y0’r3 4ll g0ing t0 d13,“ it rasped, teeth glinting. “Y0U c4n’t esc4pe m3.”
No. No no no no no—
“Spensa?” M-Bot’s familiar voice rang through the cockpit.
Spensa’s hands flew across the controls. “M-Bot, we need to get the f*ck out of here!”
Engines roared to life. The docking bay shook. S0M3TH1NG twitched, vibrating with energy and rage, its twisted mouth curving into a wide, predatory grin once more.
Spensa’s breath caught. It was going to leap—
No. FOCUS.
“Now!” She shouted into the comms.
All six starfighters flew into the air, the abandoned platform and rusted docking bay shrinking beneath them.
“Cytonic hyperdrive online,” M-Bot confirmed.
Spensa took a deep breath, steering her starfighter towards the others.
“Ready?” She asked them, her voice tight.
A chorus of approval filtered through the comms.
Spensa made sure all the wings of their starfighters were touching. And then, after placing Doomslug in her lap, she hyperjumped.
Darkness warped. The Platform disappeared around them. And then—
They were gone.
They had escaped.
They were really going to be alright.

Chapter Text

As soon as they dropped out of hyperjump, Spensa sucked in a deep breath, her fingers clenched so tightly around the controls that her knuckles stared to ache.
They had made it.
The familiar docking bay of Alta Base was visible through the glass of her cockpit, and a small, broken sound of relief escaped her lips.
“We actually made it,” Arturo’s voice crackled through the comms, sharp with relief.
Then—
“Skyward Flight?” A stunned voice crackled through the comms. Jorgen. "Is it... really you guys?"
Spensa barely head the confirmation reports from the rest of her team. Her mind zoned in on his voice, and suddenly, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—
The moment M-Bot touched down on the landing pad, Spensa ripped off her straps, grabbed Doomslug, and practically launched herself out of her cockpit.
The others stumbled out of their cockpits as well, battle-worn and absolutely exhausted, but Spensa didn’t care about any of that right now.
Because across the docking bay, a figure was sprinting towards her.
Dark curls. Uniform slightly disheveled, boots pounding against the metal. Jorgen.
Spensa didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate. She ran to him.
And then suddenly, his arms were around her. Steady. Tight. Warm.
She crashed into his chest with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs, and Jorgen’s arms were wrapped around her so tight it almost hurt—like she would disappear if he let go.
Spensa clung on to his just as desperately, arms looped around his neck, her face pressing against his shoulder. He smelled like coffee and home. She knew she probably smelled like dust and rusty metal, but she didn’t care.
"Scud," Jorgen choked out, voice raw, barely more than a whisper. "Scud, scud, scud—I thought—"
"I know," she whispered. Her chest ached. "I know."
His grip tightened, arms sliding up her back, tangling into her hair like he never wanted to let go.
Spensa closed her eyes, breathing him in. Her legs felt weak. Her body was still trembling slightly from the terror, the exhaustion—the relief that S0M3TH1NG was just messing with her head after all.
And then—suddenly—he pulled back. Not far. Just enough to see her face.
His fingers brushed against her cheekbones, his touch soft and grounding.
"You’re okay?" he murmured, voice rough. "You’re—" He swallowed. "You’re here."
Spensa let out a breathless laugh, blinking rapidly against the almost unnoticeable burning in her eyes.
"Yeah," she whispered. "I’m here."
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the rapid thumping of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. But then, he spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Spensa raised her eyebrows, words muffled against his shoulder. “What are you apologizing for?”
“I didn’t know,” Jorgen choked out, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know it was going to be like that. I thought it was just abandoned. If I had—I swear I—”
Spensa pulled back enough just to grab his face in her hands.
His brows were furrowed, his expression etched with guilt, regret and most importantly—relief. He opened his mouth to say something else but before he could say another word—
Spensa lips crashed against his. Jorgen stiffened a fraction of a second before he melted into her, his arms sliding to her waist, holding her like she was the only real thing in the universe.
It wasn’t a soft or gentle kiss—it was desperate. Fierce. The kind of kiss that said I lived through hell and back to get to you
The world blurred. The exhaustion faded. There was only this.
Only him.
And scud, she never wanted to let go.
When they finally pulled back, breathless, Jorgen stared at her.
Spensa met his gaze, fingers intertwined with his. “I do not care what you knew or didn’t know, Jerkface,” she murmured. “We made it out. I’m here. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”
Jorgen sighed, the grip of his arms still firm. “But I sent you there,” he whispered. “I put you all in danger. You—you could have died.”
Spensa exhaled, letting her fingers run over his. Because scud, he was really beating himself up over this, wasn’t he?
“You were just doing your job,” she murmured. “And I was just doing mine. It’s okay.”
Scud, Spensa had never been known to be considerate or comforting. But right now, he needed it. She knew how much he’d probably worked himself up over this.
Jorgen closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. She knew he didn’t believe her yet—but he would eventually.
“And besides,” Spensa smirked, tilting her head. “You forgot the most important part.”
Jorgen raised an eyebrow. “Which is?”
Spensa grinned. “I just survived actual horror movie sh*t and made it back in one piece.” She tapped his chest. “You should be *worshipping* me right now.”
Jorgen let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “Stars,” he muttered, before pulling her into his arms again.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Spensa let herself breathe.
She was home. And S0M3TH1NG was still in that platform, watching, waiting, having successfully failed in getting rid of them.
Stars, they should probably update those records further to prevent future accidents.

Meanwhile…

As Spensa and Jorgen clung to each other desperately, barely aware of the chaos around them, FM stumbled out of her cockpit, exhaustion weighing her down like lead in her bones, still shaken from the incomprehensible horrors they’d just experienced over the span of three scudding days.
Before she could fully process the unwavering relief of being back, a familiar voice called her name.
She forced in a breath—scud, the air didn’t smell like dust and stagnation—and looked around, eyes scanning the docking bay for one particular person.
Rodge.
And then—he was there.
FM could barely respond before Rig crashed into her, wrapping his arms around her so tightly she thought she might collapse.
She froze for half a second—before sinking into him.
Rig was warm and solid and… trembling.
"Saints, FM," he muttered, voice wavering slightly. "Saints. You’re back—scud, I thought—your comms went dark and I thought—“
She let out a shaky little laugh. "I know."
Rig pulled back to look at her, his red hair a mess, blue eyes frantic as they darted over her, searching, checking.
"Are you okay?" he whispered. His hands trembled as they reached for her face, cupping it gently. "You—you scared me so bad, I—" He shook his head, unable to finish his sentence.
She reached up, placing her hands over his. “I’m alright,” she whispered, her voice soft. “I’m here.”
He let out a shaky laugh, closing his eyes for a moament before leaning in closer, his face centimeters from hers.
Then—
He kissed her.
It was sudden, desperate, like he had almost lost her and wasn’t sure if she was real.
FM’s breath hitched. Then she kissed him back.
She buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, indulging herself in the moment—because stars, she never wanted to let go.
“Wow,” Nedd muttered somewhere behind them. “This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever witnessed.”
FM ignored him, smiling against Rig’s lips.
Rig, breathless, broke away—just slightly—and whispered: “Never do that again.”
“No promises,” she whispered back, laughing.
Rig pulled her in again, holding on tightly, his arms a steady anchor.
FM closed her eyes and held him just as tightly back.

Chapter Text

When Skyward Flight had dissapeared from the comms, Jorgen had spent the three days following running on nothing but ten hours of total sleep, more than eight cups of coffee, and unusually high levels of stress hormones. He’d never felt so helpless, sitting in his office, for long, excruciating hours, toggling every channel he knew, doing something—anything—to contact them somehow. But there had been no response. No signals. Just static and silence.
But now, as they sat before him—battered, bruised, exhausted, f*cking traumatized—Jorgen didn’t know how to begin.
The room was dimly lit, the glowing rock on the centre of the table casting red and green lights across the table where the team sat. Their uniforms were still dirty, their postures stiff. Arturo had his broken arm in a sling, his face looking nothing short of exhausted. Alanik sat rigidly, leaning against her chair, eyes darting towards every shadow. Kimmalyn was running her hand through Fine’s spikes, lips drawn into a thin line. Nedd, sitting beside her, was staring at the energy source, his eyes distant. FM sat beside Rig (who has his arm around her), her cracked datapad resting gently in front of her.
And Spensa—
Spensa hadn’t let go of his hand ever since they’d reunited at the docking bay a few hours ago.
Jorgen swallowed hard. He needed to be their Admiral right now, not the man who’d nearly lost them.
But scud, it wasn’t easy.
He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “I need a full report on what happened. From the beginning.”
A long silence stretched through the room. Nobody was in a rush to speak.
Then, finally, FM exhaled sharply and answered. “The platform was abandoned. But there was something else in it too. Something… unnatural.”
Jorgen’s jaw tightened. “When you guys were gone, a cadet told me that it wasn’t abandoned due to lack of use.” He sighed, shaking his head at the memory. “It was abandoned because… no one who stayed there ever made it out alive.”
Nedd shuddered. “And we might’ve easily been one of them.”
Jorgen’s throat tightened, but he pushed the thought away for now. “What was this… thing like, anyways?”
FM leaned forward. “Not human. Not an alien. Not even a Delver. It was… something else.” She paused, her eyes meeting Spensa’s before whispering: “Something wrong.”
A shiver ran down his spine at the unsettling way she said it.
“Go on,” he said, carefully.
Arturo leaned forward as well, his good arm rigidly resting on the table. “It stared a noise. Metal clanging. Then FM had gotten an *abnormal signal on her datapad.” He swallowed. “We thought it was just the platform setting, until we heard the next noise. Rasping.” His voice turned grim. “My flashlight flickered. Then, we thought we saw something move.”
Jorgen forced himself to stay calm, even though his blood turned to ice. “Then?”
“The energy signature led to a room,” Kimmalyn answered, her voice unusually quiet. “We entered and then… the door closed behind us. We were trapped.” She swallowed audiblly. “Shortly after, Nedd saw a message written one of the walls.”
Jorgen’s gaze turned to Nedd. “What did it say?”
Nedd’s green eyes met his, and Jorgen could see the terror in them. “It said… ‘S0M3TH1NG knows you’re here’”
A heavy pause.
“And then I tried to contact you,” Spensa added. “It didn’t work.”
FM grit her teeth, glancing at her datapad. “And then my datapad glitched. A messgae appeared. ‘ERROR: ENTITY DETECTED’. Followed by a rasping noise right behind us.”
Rig shot an unsatisfactory look at the datapad.
Alanik continued, her voice wavering slightly. “The emergency lights turned green. And then another message appeared on FM’s datapad: ‘Y0U’RE N0T AL0N3, SKYW4RD FL1GHT.’ Then there were some banging noises on the door and…” she shook her head, unable to continue. “S0M3TH1NG appeared before us.”
Jorgen’s pulse was accelerating. “Then?”
“The light turned off, and it stared speaking. It… it was watching us,” Kimmalyn murmured. “It knew things. Things about us. Personal things.”
Jorgen’s fingers tightened around Spensa’s. “What kind of things?”
Nobody answered.
Then, Spensa finally spoke.
“It knew you,” she whispered.
Jorgen felt the blood drain from his face. Rig gasped softly.
Spensa looked up at him, her amethyst eyes stormy, dark. “It knew who you were. It spoke about you. To me.” Her grip on his hand tightened. “It told me how it would kill you. In excruciating detail. And…” she stopped, swallowing. “I guess it was too much for me.”
Jorgen exhaled sharply, forcing himself to stay still, trying to process. He wanted to hold her, to pull her into his arms just like at the docking bay and never let go. But he couldn’t—not now, at least.
Instead, he exhaled sharply through his nose, turning back to Arturo. “After that?”
Arturo sat forward. “Nedd tried to fire at it—but it just absorbed the energy. I stepped on a rattling tile, and realized the energy source was underneath the room. I decided to send Alanik—since we all couldn’t go, and she was closest. I tried to distract it from the team and direct its attention towards me. It said thing to me too but.. I didn’t let it get to me. And it worked.” He shot an exasperated glance towards his left arm. “A little too well. But at least Alanik was able to escape unharmed.”
Jorgen pressed his lips to a thin line. “And what did you find in that tunnel, Alanik?”
Alanik met his gaze. “Arturo sent me and I found the energy source—this glowing rock—inside the tunnel under the room. When we came back out… there were black, glistening marks streaked across the walls.”
A horrible, twisting feeling coiled in his gut. Jorgen exhaled sharply, his skin now unusually cold. “And how did you escape?”
“I realized that S0M3TH1NG had energy, and that we could use that energy to break open the door,” Spensa answered, smirking slightly. “So to use that energy, I decided to make it angry—“
“—which, by the way, was *very* reckless—“
“—shut up Arturo… anyways my plan worked and the door swung open. We bolted outside while it was chasing us, slowly catching up.”
“But we made it,” Kimmalyn added on. “We made it to our ships just in time. Spensa hyperjumped us away.”
And then they’d made it here. Alive.
Jorgen exhaled slowly, steadying himself. “Alright. That’s enough for today. You can give me more details later. I’ll update those records right now. No one else is setting foot on that station until we understand exactly what we’re dealing with.”
Arturo let out a dry laugh. “Good. Because I am never scudding going back there.”
“Seconded,” FM muttered.
“Thirded,” Nedd groaned, rubbing his temples.
Jorgen let out a slow breath. “Get some rest. All of you. Medical checkups, mandatory downtime.”
He met Spensa’s eyes. “That includes you, Spin.”
She huffed. “I’m fine.”
Jorgen raised an eyebrow.
She sighed. “Okay. I *will* be fine.”
Jorgen gave a single nod. That was good enough.
Spensa blinked, but she didn’t hesitate when he pulled her up to her feet. He led her out of the debriefing room, away from the others, into one of the quieter hallways of Alta Base.
Only when they were finally alone did he let himself breathe.
He turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her, grounding himself. “Stars, Spensa.” His voice came out hoarse. “I thought I lost you. All of you.”
Spensa let out a breathless laugh, but it broke at the edges. “We made it back.”
Jorgen reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. “I sent you there.” His voice cracked. “If I had known—”
“You didn’t know,” she said firmly. “You couldn’t have known. None of us did until all that sh*t started happening.”
Jorgen swallowed hard. “I still—”
“Jorgen.” Her thumbs brushed against his skin, grounding him once more. “I survived.”
He exhaled. “You always say that like it’s supposed to comfort me.”
She smirked faintly. “Did it work?”
Jorgen let out a slow, breathless laugh. “No.”
But then, finally, he pulled her into his arms.
Spensa sank against him, letting the tensions in her shoulders bleed away.
“I survived,” she whispered again, glancing up at him.
Jorgen held her tighter, smiling. “I know. Just… stay that way.”

Chapter Text

It was nearly 0300 hours when Spensa jolted awake in bed.
Her throat burned, musles constricting around her airway. Her lungs burned, each breath—ragged and shallow—sitting fire to her chest. Her sheets were tangled around her legs, and her body was soaked with sweat. The air felt wrong—too quiet, too heavy, too full of the kind of silence that hummed, like something was lingering just behind the walls of her quarters.
Her heart raced in her ribcage, wild and thunderous—like it was trying to escape and leap straight out of her chest. She wasn’t even sure what had happened. There hadn’t been a clear image. Just… flashes of fleeting thoughts. Feelings.
Terror. Flickering green lights.
A rasping voice that sounded like a hundred different voices stocked to one throat.
And Jorgen’s voice, shouting her name—and then nothing.
Silence. Emptiness. Gone.
She sat there, frozen on her bed, trying to convince herself it was all over. That the *thing* was gone. That it hadn’t followed them. That it hadn’t clung to the inside of her skull like an eldritch parasite whispering horrors and lies.
But her trembling fists were clenched in the sheets, trying to ground her. Her body trembled. Her skin felt like it didn’t belong to her anymore. This wasn’t her. She didn’t do this. She faced down Delvers, Krell, even The Superiority. But now, hours after the debriefing and being home and safe, the memory of S0M3TH1NG and what it did to them still coiled in her chest like a venomous snake. She couldn’t breathe.
Its alright, she told herself, repeating the words inside her head like a mantra. It’s gone. It’s not here. You’ve escaped. You’ve escaped. You’ve escaped. You’ve left it behind in that platform. You’re safe now. He’s safe now. Nothing is going to happen—
But even those repeated, reassuring words didn’t help. Her heart still didn’t cease its restless thrumming, and her breathing still came in quick, shallow bursts. She couldn’t even think straight.
She needed—stars, she needed to see him.
Spensa slid out of bed.

The hallway lights in Alta Base were dimmed for night cycles—a soft white glow bathing the corners of the corridors. The base was quiet, resting. The rest of Skyward Flight had likely crashed hours ago. But her legs moved on instinct, dragging her down the hallways with silent, heavy feet until she reached the room she hadn’t been consciously aiming for.
His.
The door to Jorgen’s quarters slid open with a soft hiss as she pressed her fingers against the panel.
The light from his room spilled out through the small gap, soft and warm. Not bright, but not too dim either. He hadn’t been sleeping—the lighting made that obvious. He was still at his desk, shoulders rigid, his black curls tousled like he’d run his fingers through it more times than necessary. His uniform jacket was discarded across the couch. A cold, mostly empty mug of dark coffee sat beside a pile of datapads, one of which he was still scrolling through with an unfocused, almost bored gaze.
He looked up, eyes focusing in a heartbeat as they landed on her form.
And then he stood, immediately.
“Spensa?”
She didn’t answer.
She just crossed the rooms in three strides of her legs, grabbed the front of his shirt, and buried herself against his chest.
He froze for half a second—then his arms snaked themselves around her. Warm. Solid. Firm. Certain. No hesitation.
She let herself collapse into him like she would’ve fallen apart otherwise, bones turning into jelly, the adrenaline that had been flowing through her bloodstream not-so-subtly finally hitting its crash point. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Her body trembled slightly in his embrace and his hands moved to her back, warm and steady.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
“No,” she whispered back.
He let out a slow, shaking breath and pulled her impossibly closer, resting his chin gently on top of her head like it had always belonged there. “Me neither.”

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Spensa couldn’t care less.
He eventually guided her to the small couch resting against the wall. They sank down together, her curled sideways into his lap, legs folded, head tucked into the crook of his neck. He smelled like coffee and expensive paper and something clean and sharp that grounded her more than anything else had all day.
Her voice was a rasp when it came out. “I keep hearing it.”
He didn’t ask what. He knew.
“Even when I’m awake,” she added, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s like it left… something. Inside my head.”
Jorgen’s arms tightened around her. “I know. I keep… imagining things. You collapsing. Arturo screaming. That thing saying my name like it knew me.” He inhaled sharply. “I’ve been trying to work, but I can’t stop thinking about it. About what could’ve happened. What almost happened of it had been too late.”
Spensa swallowed, her voice hoarse, head lifting just slightly so she could look at him better. “I thought I was strong enough to face anything.”
Jorgen met her gaze, his eyes grounding. “You are.”
Spensa closed her eyes, setting her head back down. “Then why do I feel like this?”
He didn’t answer. He just held her. Let her break the silence when she was ready.
Eventually, she whispered, “It told me too many details.”
Jorgen stiffened slightly, but he didn’t move away.
Spensa kept going. “It said it knows what you’d look like with your ribs splayed open. Said your lungs would still be moving and twitching. That you’d still be trying to breathe. That it would—" her breath hitched, nausea curling low in her stomach, "—it would kill you slow."
His breath hitched. “You—you’ve been carrying all that alone?”
“I knew it was lying,” she whispered. “But it still got to me more than it should have. Because what if it wasn’t?”
“Hey.” His voice was raw, but steady. “I’m here. I’m not dead. You’re not alone.”
Her eyes stung. She blinked rapidly. “You promise?”
Jorgen pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Spensa Nightshade, I swear on every star in the galaxy—I’m not going anywhere.”
She let out a quiet laugh, the sound broken but incredibly real. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Only for you,” he said, and cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheek softly. “And besides. You didn’t see what I looked like when I thought I lost you. You’d be dramatically horrified.”
Spensa smirked faintly. “You crying and screaming and flinging yourself at walls?”
“Basically. Lots of negativity. It was very emotionally compelling. And Rodge wasn’t taking it any better than I was.”
She laughed faintly, leaning into his touch.
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“You were gone for three days.”
“Too long.”
He leaned down and kissed her fleetingly. “Then you’re never leaving again.”
“Liar,” she murmured. “There’s a mission in the next two weeks.”
“But at least that platform isn’t possessed.”
She smiled. The silence following them was easy, not heavy this time. Just quiet. Just rest. Just peace.
Eventually, her breathing slowed, her muscles easing from their stiff positions in his arms. Her fingers relaxed in his—the death grip loosening.
And as she drifted off, half-asleep in his hold, Jorgen whispered “You always survive, Spensa. But I’m done pretending that’s enough for me. I want you safe. Not just alive.”
She didn’t answer.
But she didn’t let go.