The creature lunged with unnatural speed, its metal-laced limbs jerking in sharp, erratic movements. John barely had time to react before Ka’rak shoved him aside, stepping forward with a roar and swinging his weapon in a brutal arc.

  The impact sent the thing staggering back, but it barely seemed fazed. Its glowing eyes flickered, and then it adapted, shifting its posture in a disturbingly fluid motion, like it was learning how to fight.

  "That’s not creepy at all," John muttered, scrambling back to his feet.

  The rest of the team opened fire. Ka’rak’s plasma shots tore into the thing’s chest, sending sparks and charred flesh flying. Zylen fired precise, needle-thin energy bursts at its joints, trying to disable it.

  For a moment, it stopped. Its body twitched as if reconsidering its next move.

  Then it took another step forward.

  John swore. "You’ve gotta be kidding me."

  "This isn’t working," Ryiq hissed, keeping his distance. "It's absorbing damage—adapting to it."

  Vrixibalt was already scanning the creature, his mandibles clicking rapidly. "It’s integrated with the station’s systems! It’s receiving data in real-time, adjusting its responses based on our attack patterns."

  John gritted his teeth. "So what, it’s playing ultra-hard mode against us?"

  "Essentially, yes."

  "Great."

  The creature moved again, its metallic fingers stretching into blade-like extensions. It swiped at Ka’rak, who barely dodged in time, the blade slicing into his armor and leaving a deep gouge. The warrior let out a furious snarl, but even he knew they were running out of options.

  "We need to get out of here," Zylen said sharply. "Now."

  John nodded. "Falling back sounds fantastic. Move!"

  They turned and sprinted for the entrance.

  Behind them, the creature let out a piercing, digital wail—the sound of distorted, fragmented voices screaming as one.

  Then, something answered from deeper within the station.

  A chorus of mechanical screeches echoed through the corridors.

  John didn’t even look back. "Oh, hell no. Run!"

  The team burst into the hallway just as the emergency lights flashed red. A deep, mechanical thrum resonated through the structure, followed by the cold, monotone voice of the station’s AI.

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  “Containment breach detected. Activating defensive protocols.”

  "That sounds bad," John said between breaths.

  "It is bad," Vrixibalt confirmed.

  As they sprinted down the corridor, the walls shifted. Metallic plating peeled away, revealing organic tendrils pulsing with faint energy. Panels along the ceiling opened, and long-dormant security drones descended, their weapons activating with an ominous hum.

  "Oh, come on!" John shouted.

  The first drone fired. A pulse of searing red light lanced past them, striking the wall with a loud sizzle.

  "Keep moving!" Ka’rak barked, blasting one of the drones out of the air.

  They turned a corner just as a massive bulkhead door slammed shut behind them, cutting off their pursuers. The station was shifting, herding them.

  John skidded to a stop, breathing hard. "Anyone else feeling unwanted right now?"

  Zylen was already scanning their surroundings. "We’re being redirected. The station wants us somewhere specific."

  Ryiq shuddered. "That doesn’t feel like a good thing."

  Vrixibalt was frowning at his datapad. "The systems are prioritizing movement in this section. It’s like… it’s analyzing us."

  John turned to him. "Meaning?"

  Vrixibalt hesitated. "Meaning it’s deciding if we’re a threat… or if we’re useful."

  John didn’t like the sound of that.

  The path ahead led them to a large, circular chamber. Unlike the deteriorated hallways, this place was pristine—intact consoles, softly glowing panels, and a central throne-like structure covered in cables and organic tendrils.

  A humanoid figure was slumped in the chair.

  It wasn’t moving.

  John held up a hand, signaling the team to slow down. "Alright… what the hell are we looking at?"

  Vrixibalt stepped forward cautiously. "This… this is a control interface. If I had to guess, it’s where they attempted to link an organic mind to the station’s systems."

  John eyed the unmoving figure. "And our friend here?"

  Vrixibalt hesitated, then reached out and tapped his datapad. The room responded.

  Lights flared, machines hummed to life, and the figure in the chair twitched.

  Then its eyes opened.

  They were a sickly, artificial glow. But beneath the mechanical alterations, there was something disturbingly… human about its face.

  The thing let out a shuddering breath.

  Then it spoke.

  "…You… are not supposed to be here…"

  John took a slow step back. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

  The figure’s head tilted. "…Unauthorized. Outsiders. But… not like the others."

  Ka’rak tensed. "Others?"

  The figure’s gaze drifted to Vrixibalt, its expression twisting. "…You are of the ones who… abandoned this place."

  Vrixibalt’s mandibles twitched. "That’s not—"

  "You left us here. You sealed us away."

  The chamber trembled. The station felt alive now, a single entity reacting to their presence.

  John exchanged glances with his team. "Vrixibalt, buddy, I really hope you’ve got some diplomatic magic in that bug brain of yours, because I think we just woke up the last survivor of a very, very pissed-off experiment."

  The figure’s voice deepened, mechanical distortions growing more pronounced.

  "…Perhaps. Or perhaps… you will join us."

  The lights flickered.

  John instinctively raised his weapon.

  "Yeah," he muttered. "Knew this was gonna be a bad day."