The alarm bells at the Syndicate’s perimeter didn't ring.
They were snapped off their iron mountings.
I was in the command vault reviewing border maps when a deafening shockwave rattled the concrete floor. It wasn't the sound of gunfire or pipe bombs. It was a high-pitched, chittering screech that vibrated directly through the soles of our boots.
"Boss!" a scout burst through the heavy steel door, his face pale as chalk, his arm severed at the elbow, blood spurting wildly. "It's... it's not the Scrappers! It's from underground!"
Before I could grab my rifle, the main reinforced ceiling of the vault cracked open like an eggshell.
A colossal, eight-legged terror crashed onto the iron war table, shattering it to splinters.
It was terrifying—a massive hybrid beast the size of a armored bus, its carapace black as pitch, six yellow eyes glowing with insatiable hunger. Its thick scorpion tail lashed out, impaling two Syndicate guards in a fraction of a second.
"Fire! FIRE!" Jax screamed, unearthing his heavy machine gun and spraying lead directly into the beast's head.
The bullets bounced off its armored shell like plastic pellets.
The creature didn't roar. It hissed, opening a horrific maw lined with thousands of needle-like teeth. A smaller, whip-like appendage shot out from its mouth, piercing a lieutenant’s skull and instantly siphoning out his brain tissue like liquid.
"THEY'RE EATING OUR HEADS!" someone shrieked in absolute hysteria.
Outside the vault, the sound echoed down the streets—not one creature, but millions.
A sea of black shells, razor legs, and stinging tails poured out of the cracked asphalt, crawling over skyscrapers, swarming over the barricades, devouring every human in sight.
I drew my pistol, my abyss instincts flaring to life as I dodged a razor leg that slashed through the concrete where I had stood a microsecond before.
The old world died by nuclear fire.
The new world was about to be buried under a mountain of chitin and claws.