The Lithic-Wolves didn’t growl with the wet, guttural hunger of the feral packs we had encountered in the tunnels, nor did they howl with the mournful, electronic screech of the Aegis’s drones. Instead, they emitted a low-frequency hum—a vibration so deep and resonant that it bypassed my ears entirely and settled into the very marrow of my bones. As we stepped fully onto the basalt floor of the Maw, the hundreds of quartz-encrusted creatures began to move in a slow, hypnotic spiral. Their crystalline paws clicked rhythmically against the stone, a sound like a thousand ticking clocks counting down the final seconds of an era.
“Hold your fire! Weapons down!” I commanded, my voice echoing off the glowing canyon walls. The Reclaimed wolves behind me were trembling, their fingers twitching on
