After a morning of arguments, pros and cons, and planning, the Centurion hovered toward the source of the signal under Luca's guidance.

The toxic landscape blurred past the viewport in streaks of sulfur-yellow and rust-red. Emily sat in the passenger seat, one hand resting on Luca's thigh, the other scrolling through nav data. Behind them, the rest of the crew was packed into the vehicle's interior, quiet in that way people get before doing something stupid.

"Portal's coming up," Zoe called from the back. "Two kilometers northwest."

Luca's jaw tightened. They'd argued about this for an hour. Stop at the portal or drive straight to the signal. Emily had voted for skipping it. Joey had backed her up.

And yet here they were, slowing down.

"Luca," Emily said quietly.

"I know."

"Everyone got hurt last time."

"I know."

"It's not mission critical."

"I know." He brought the Centurion to a stop about fifty meters from the portal's shimmer. The thing pulsed in the air, casting strange shadows across the barren ground.

Ryan leaned forward between the seats. "So we're doing this?"

Luca stared at the portal, his hands still on the controls. Every rational part of his brain screamed to drive past it. Keep going to the signal. Stay safe.

But that XP deficit was real. Those skill costs were crushing. And sitting at level 69 while the planet spawned level 70+ threats meant they were always one bad encounter from disaster.

"Yeah," he said finally. "We're doing this."

Emily's hand tightened on his thigh, but she didn't argue. She'd already said her piece back at camp. Now it was time to see if his gamble paid off or got them all killed.

The Centurion settled with a hiss of stabilizers, kicking up toxic dust that swirled in the corrosive wind. Luca killed the engine, and the sudden silence felt heavy with all the things they weren't saying.

"Alright," Luca said, already unstrapping. "Let's gear up and see what we're dealing with."

They filed out into Midnight Veil's hostile atmosphere, suits sealed tight against the sulfuric air. The wind howled across the barren plain, carrying grit that pinged off their armor like shrapnel. Pixel was safely sedated back in the med module.

The portal stood about thirty meters away, a vertical tear in space that pulsed with dark energy. It looked angry. Swirls of black and deep purple churned within its frame, occasionally spitting out wisps of what looked like fog.

Luca approached it, his interface activating as he got within range and raised his hand.

[System Message: Operation Site] Scenario: Fog of Fury Gateway: Stable Recommended Level: 72 Maximum Level: 86 Mission Objective: Clear out rogue defenders and disable the fog generators. Environmental Hazards: Corrosive fog [End of Message]

"Level 72," Zoe read over his shoulder, her voice flat.

"Only three levels," Ryan said, coming up beside them. "Same as last time. That's nothing."

"Nothing?" Danny asked, checking his warhammer's charge indicator. "Because I distinctly remember almost dying in the last one."

"But you didn't," Chris pointed out. "That's the important part."

Emily moved to stand beside Luca, studying the portal with the calculating look she got when running tactical scenarios. "Fog of Fury. Rogue encampment scenario. So, probably structured combat, defenders in fixed positions, objectives we can plan around."

"No emotional entanglements," Joey added from behind them, his voice carrying an edge. "No NPCs to guard, no civilians to evacuate. Just straight combat."

"Exactly," Luca said. "We clear out the rogue soldiers, disable their fog generators, and extract. Simple and clean."

Luca turned to face his team, reading their readiness. Level 69 against a level 72 portal, a three-level gap, same as last time. Tight, but manageable. And that XP deficit wasn't theoretical anymore. Every encounter on this planet risked level 70+ threats, and being underleveled in those fights could get them killed. They needed those skill unlocks.

Emily caught his eye, and something shifted in her expression. The concern must have melted away because it was replaced by that fierce grin he loved. She had already said her piece.

"Alright," she said, her voice cutting into the general comms channel. "We're doing this. Standard combat op, no complications, in and out. This should be easy."

"Damn right," Luca said. They'd handled this level gap before. Structured combat, clear objectives, no emotional complications. Just them and their skills against whatever the System threw at them.

"Easy," Zoe repeated, checking her rifle's charge. "Famous last words."

"Plus," Ryan added, slapping a fresh power cell into his scattergun, "we need the XP. Those skill costs aren't going to pay themselves, and I'm sick of sitting on abilities I need to unlock."

"Alright," he said. "Rundown. Rogue encampment hidden in dense, corrosive fog. Objective's twofold: clear the defenders, then disable the fog generators they're using for concealment. Level cap is 72, but we know portal difficulty is on a curve. We'll be fine."

"Plus we're fucking great," Ryan added with a grin.

"Plus that." Luca couldn't help but smile. "Standard formation. Danny on point with the heavy armor and warhammer. Ryan and Chris take the flanks. Emily, you're center. Joey, you hold back line. Zoe and I will scout ahead, mark targets, and provide overwatch when we can."

"Keep you idiots alive," Joey said, checking his medical supplies one more time. His plasma rifle hung across his chest, and his new shield was clipped to his belt.

"Everyone good?" Luca asked, meeting each person's eyes.

Nods all around. Even Emily, though hers came with a look that said this is still a terrible idea.

"Weapons check," Chris called out, and they went through the ritual. Power cells, nutrient bars, melee weapons, armor seals. Everything green across the board.

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The wind picked up, howling across the barren landscape and making their suits creak. In the distance, something roared. Probably one of those acid-spitting behemoths they'd cataloged yesterday. Midnight Veil was not a forgiving planet.

Luca stepped up to the shimmering gateway, feeling the familiar tingle of energy against his suit. The portal pulsed.

"Alright, team," he said, lookingback at his crew. "Let's clear this camp, take down those fog generators, and show these rogues what happens when they pick the wrong fight."

Ryan moved up beside him, cracking his knuckles inside his gauntlets. "Nothing like a simple combat mission to cleanse the palate."

"Simple," Emily repeated, shaking her head. But she was smiling now, that fierce grin she got before a fight. "You keep on using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

"Inconceivable!" Chris and Danny shouted in unison.

Luca felt his stomach twist. What the fuck was he doing?

During the last portal, a clean puncture had compromised Danny's shoulder armor. Emily had nearly suffocated on toxic spores after a vine pierced her leg, while Ryan's arm was shredded at a weak joint, pouring blood into his suit. A Leviathan had ragdolled Joey, nearly crushing him, and Chris had taken a tail strike that would have killed anyone in lighter armor.

Every single one of them had been hurt. Every single one.

And here he was, leading them back in. XP deficit or not, tactical necessity or not, he was risking his team again. The math said they needed the levels. The scars said they'd paid in blood last time.

This was dangerous. Maybe too dangerous.

But they were ready. They'd handled worse odds and come out the other side. The team was capable, the mission was structured, and they needed those skill unlocks before facing higher-level threats on this planet.

He swallowed the doubt creeping up his throat and stood by his call.

"Ready?" Luca asked.

"Let's go make some noise," Ryan said.

Luca turned back to the portal, took a breath, and stepped through.

The world dissolved into fog and fury.

Luca stumbled through, his boots hitting ground that felt wrong. Too heavy. Gravity pressed down on his shoulders like someone had cranked up the dial.

Dark trees stretched upward into toxic haze, their twisted trunks dripping with something that sizzled when it hit the ground. The forest floor was shrouded in dim, greenish light filtering through layers of smoke.

What the fuck?

An explosion tore through the canopy. Then another. Then a dozen more, rapid-fire detonations that turned the world into strobing light and thunder. The ground shook so hard Luca's teeth rattled.

And through the smoke, they came.

Varnathi troops. Hundreds of them. No, thousands. A tide of armored figures surging through the trees in formation, their plasma rifles blazing in volleys that turned the forest into strobing flashes of light. Not the peaceful researchers from before. No, these were soldiers. Real soldiers, moving in disciplined lines that felt nothing like the chaotic skirmishes his team was used to.

Holy shit.

"Luca?" Zoe's voice cracked over the comm. "What the fuck are we looking at?"

He couldn't answer yet, as his brain was still cataloging the threat. Rising above the Varnathi infantry, towering over the trees themselves, came the mechs.

Battle mechs. Six meters tall, maybe ten. Massive bipedal war machines with armored hulls that gleamed even through the smoke. Their legs pounded craters into the earth with each thunderous step. Dual plasma cannons mounted on their shoulders fired in rotation, each blast bright enough to hurt even through his visor's auto-dimming.

They have mechs. The Varnathi have fucking battle mechs.

Luca had seen pictures of the starship graveyard. Ancient vessels torn apart by something. The researchers had hinted at the conflict between species. But this? This was beyond anything he'd imagined.

The sky darkened as dozens of dropships roared overhead, their armored hulls cutting through the toxic atmosphere. They were sleek, deadly, nothing like the Percival. Each one disgorged squads of Varnathi soldiers directly into the battlefield, rappelling lines deploying troops mid-flight while the ships' weapons provided covering fire.

They have dropships. They have air support. This is a full military operation.

And then he saw what they were fighting.

He caught a sight of the fortress looming ahead through the smoke, a massive structure deep into the line of trees. And swarming over it, around it, defending it, were the Vexillari.

Thousands of them.

Insectoid bodies the size of humans, some larger. Mandibles clicking, compound eyes gleaming in the plasma fire. Their chittering voices created a sound like metal scraping metal amplified a thousand times.

And they were armed.

Plasma and energy weapons. Rifles that fired bolts of sickly green light. Heavy cannons mounted on their fortress walls. Artillery that sent mortars screaming through the air to detonate among the Varnathi advance.

When the fuck did bugs get intelligent? When did they get weapons?

Everything they'd learned about the Vexillari had now changed. They were not mindless monsters. This was an organized military force defending its position with tactics and technology.

A mortar round landed twenty meters away, the explosion sending a geyser of dirt and shredded trees into the air. Luca felt the shockwave through his armor, felt the heat wash over him.

"Contact!" someone screamed over the comm. Maybe Chris. Maybe Ryan. It didn't matter.

The Varnathi line pushed forward, their advance relentless. Plasma fire cut through the forest in brilliant streaks. A Vexillari defensive position exploded, bodies and chitin fragments spinning through the air. The insectoids returned fire, their own weapons punching through Varnathi armor, dropping soldiers by the dozen.

It didn't slow the advance, as more Varnathi poured through the trees and more dropships roared overhead. The mechs strode forward, their plasma cannons reducing fortified positions to slag.

This was war. Industrial-scale warfare between two spacefaring civilizations, and seven human idiots had just walked into the middle of it.

Winged Vexillari launched from the fortress walls, their wings buzzing as they swarmed the dropships. Some carried weapons, firing at the descending Varnathi troops. Others dive-bombed directly, their claws tearing at armored hulls.

The dropships' point-defense systems opened up, streams of plasma cutting through the swarm. Insectoid bodies tumbled from the sky, trailing smoke.

"Luca!" Emily's voice, sharp with panic. "What the fuck is this? Where are we?"

No idea. But we need to move.

The mission briefing had said rogue camp. Hidden in fog. Simple combat scenario. Clear the defenders, disable some generators, and extract.

This was nothing like that. This was a meat grinder. A killing field stretching in every direction as far as he could see through the smoke. Thousands of Varnathi infantry pushing toward the fortress. Thousands of Vexillari defending it. Mechs and dropships and artillery turning the forest into a hellscape.

They were level 69. Seven people with good gear and some experience.

A blast tore through a line of Varnathi snipers to their right, reducing armored bodies to scorched fragments. Ryan dropped flat, his scattergun clattering against his chest plate.

"Holy shit," he breathed. "Holy fucking shit."

Danny dove behind a gnarled tree as shrapnel peppered the ground. "Luca, what do we do? What the fuck do we do?"

He fell back on the standard playbook: cover, assess, extract. It was the only thing that made sense when everything else was beyond comprehension.

The ground shook again. Another mech strode past them, close enough that Luca could see the scorch marks on its hull, the battle damage it had already taken. Its cannons fired, the sound so loud it felt like his bones were vibrating.

How long had this been going on? How many had died here?

Joey laughed, high and sharp with hysteria. "Guess that's what we get for wanting a light combat mission."

Light combat mission. I led us into a war. An actual fucking war between two species we barely understand. No time for guilt.

The researchers in Proxima had talked about conflict. Ancient battles. The starship graveyard suggested violence on a massive scale. But seeing it in person, standing in the middle of it, feeling the heat of plasma fire?

This was beyond anything the portal delves had prepared them for. Beyond anything in their experience.

"Move!" Luca forced himself into action. "Outcrop of rocks, thirty meters west. Take cover and stay the fuck down!"

They scrambled, bodies pressed low. Plasma bolts seared the air above them. An explosion sent dirt raining down on their armor.

Luca dove behind the rocks and risked a look over the top.

In every direction, the battle raged. Varnathi troops pushed forward in waves. Vexillari defenders held their ground with desperate ferocity. The mechs advanced, mobile fortresses of armor and plasma. Dropships circled overhead.

Thousands of combatants. Maybe tens of thousands. All locked in a struggle for a fortress that Luca could barely see through the smog.

"Luca," Emily pressed against the rocks beside him, her voice tight. "This isn't what we signed up for. This is beyond anything we can handle."

She was right. Of course, how could she not be?

But they were here now in the middle of a war zone with no clear extraction point and a portal that would activate somewhere ahead of them through enemy lines.

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