The Dark Half had been over for a while now in Tomorann. The rising yellow sunlight diffused over the landscape and left vague shadows of the tall hills that surrounded the outskirts. Still, it was dim and dull, and would be so for a long while yet. The area was eerily quiet, save for the distant, intermittent cries of waking creatures and the thumping sound of metal footfalls on glass-like dirt.

  There were twenty of them in this unit. They walked carefully in a tight formation, following their commander's every move as they took a turn down a path next to a hill. Suddenly, with a signaling fist, he paused.

  “Trigad Twelve and Fourteen, move north past the dale and inspect,” Araan said into his communicator.

  “Yes, Commander,” the two responded, immediately.

  They moved past him and went ahead while the rest of them remained by the hill. Twelve and Fourteen were scouts of his Trigad unit; their armours were, by standard, much lighter and sand-colored. Araan had the rest of the unit painted in the same color. The sunlight was still dim enough that creatures that needed to see would most likely still be in hibernation, but it was better to be cautious.

  The last Trigad unit had died for doing otherwise.

  Tomorann was a mining city, or the remnants of one. One could see the black metal dome of the main city up ahead, even from the outskirts they were in. The dome was partly destroyed, a gaping tear near its base and numerous indentations across its surface. Though they'd expected to see it that way, it still seemed difficult to believe that it was possible, even as they stared at it.

  The dome walls were made of tough metals several times thicker than the hill they stood beside. That this damage was caused by a single creature just made it even harder to believe.

  Araan's armoured hand groaned as he squeezed it tightly. It better be dead like they said, he thought. That or it was gone.

  The communicator on his left forearm rang out with interference. Fourteen's voice came through soon after. “Safe passage from the dale to the dome, Commander.”

  “And the sand?” Araan asked.

  “Glassy,” Fourteen responded, slowly, unsure what Araan had expected to find. “It's been a while since anything came through here.”

  There was silence for a while before he spoke. “Keep watch for anything unusual.” Araan could almost guess what went through everyone's mind when he said the words. Why was he being so cautious? They were used to him enough to ask, but they didn't, and just advanced further in silence.

  Moving beyond the hill brought the city into clearer view. It was built in the middle of a deep, wide crater. The straight path ahead led to the dome's base. How large it was, coupled with how busy it should have been, made a sharp contrast with what it looked like now. It wasn't the worst thing about the desolate city. As they walked ahead, past the last high ground leading to the city's base, they saw it.

  Bodies, torn and scattered, covering the ground.

  Twelve and Fourteen rejoined them and they went down the crater, sliding carefully when it got too steep to walk. The atmosphere was heavy with the putrid smell of decaying bodies as the armour failed to filter all of it. It wasn't just soldiers that lay torn apart but everyone that lived in Tomorann.

  “Dumod's Ashes,” the swearing came from Ten as he scanned the area.

  The bodies closest to the edge of the crater were scavengers, self-proclaimed outcasts that only owned age-old Life Armours. They were probably the first to die, given where their bodies laid. Araan could see them running in the blind darkness of the Dark Half of the last cycle, screaming and begging in their final moments for the gates to be opened. It was unusual for them but given how close they were to the dome, it was most likely the truth.

  They led it here, Araan concluded within himself.

  “Spread out into teams of four,” Araan said, not through the communicators, but loud enough for all of them to hear.

  Araan turned to face the unit and noticed a different, gentle pacing of wind around the dome than that of the outskirts. It was odd but he went on.

  “The Pod Wall is hidden on the inside, so finding it that way without a native is impossible. It's an old city, maps and structure layouts don't exist, but there's always a hidden hatch door on the walls outside of these cities. We find the hatch door, we find the Pod Wall, we don't leave until we do.

  “Trigad Four, Six and Ten remain with me while the other teams go around the dome.”

  “You heard the Commander, move out!” Fourteen said loudly as the unit began forming into groups.

  It didn't take long and the teams spread out. Each one marched in a different direction around the city. Araan and the rest headed toward the hole in the dome.

  The odd current was stronger as they approached it.

  Further down were bodies of miners and guards. They were torn apart but some of them still held their tools and weapons; that helped identify them.

  A headless torso stood out among the rest.

  The armour it wore was brown in colour with articulated joints that were different from the armour on other bodies. It was a single jacket of armour that covered the chest and arms. The armour was battle-worn featuring numerous tiny scratches and dents. The burly arms of the armoured torso stopped at the wrist at the right arm, its hand and gauntlet forcibly torn off. Araan could see tiny flesh worms struggling to bore in through the neck, wrist and waist.

  When whole, the armour was called a Mantle, exclusive to the Trigad soldiers. It stood out because Araan and the rest of his unit wore a complete version of that armour.

  The torso lacked a fitted helmet with a solid visor, connected by two thick gas tubes on either side that ran from the neck to the shoulders. Two battle-rifles would have been hooked to the elevated compartment on the back of the armour. The leg armour, featuring spacious thigh compartments, was equally thick and encased them like metal trousers with articulated knee joints. The soles of the boot had spiked ridges for when the glassy sands became too solid to crack easily.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  It was a surprise seeing a Trigad soldier torn apart like this. The Trouser and Jacket sections were connected by inseparable locks and a magnetic system. They were impossible to separate without the wearer wanting it.

  Araan looked at the torso one more time. Not so impossible, he thought.

  He ignored the conversation of his squad that started when Ten commented on the dead Trigad soldiers, and moved forward without them. They soon followed but lagged behind.

  The strange air current was too strong to ignore now.

  It came from the wide hole in the dome wall. Darkness still shrouded the interior. The others had begun to notice.

  “...wonder the dome still stands,” Four finished and stopped talking, turning to look around. “Did you feel that?” he asked Six.

  The other soldier shook his helmeted head. “Feel what?”

  “Weapons out,” Araan ordered and they all unhooked one rifle. They advanced as a unit this time. Soon they were a stone's throw from the hole.

  Everyone could it see it this time. Loose sand shards shifting rhythmically with the strange current.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  “Breathing,” Ten hushed.

  A voice rang out on Araan's communicator suddenly. He didn't get to hear what Twelve said.

  It had seen them.

  Its eyes were a deep, dark yellow that glimmered in the darkness, both fixed on Araan. The creature that killed the other team, that destroyed Tomorann, was here.

  It never left.

  “Commander, we've found the wall,” Twelve spoke again.

  “Do not open the hatch—” was as far as Araan got before the beast lashed out of the dome.

  The dome groaned as the creature moved out of the hole suddenly. The entire length of its body scraped against the circumference of the hole as it launched towards Araan and the rest of the Trigad unit.

  It was fast but the team split up quickly, landing on either side of the creature's path.

  The creature was covered in hard scales similar in color to Trigad armour. The eyes were smaller than Araan thought they were. Or maybe it was the sheer size of its head after it revealed itself.

  Below the eyes were two openings. The upper smaller one with many visible internal partitions and a lower, wider hole full of numerous circular linings of sharp, jagged teeth.

  The rest of its gigantic body was long and scaled, narrowing down to a forked tail with a pair of strong, wide legs at its middle. Even with its legs, the creature trudged as though the act of moving was a burden.

  The team opened fire.

  Trigad battle-rifles fired the hottest plasma rounds, but they didn't get through its scale. It let out a loud screech and flailed wildly, almost hitting Ten with its tail. Plasma shots may not have been fatal but the pelting was intense enough to disorient it.

  There was something wrong. How was this the creature that put a whole in the dome and massacred a city? It was angry, but there was something else. Panic? Fear?

  Araan didn't get to find out. In a sudden motion, the creature dug its tail deep into the glassed sand. In another, it retrieved a solid chunk and flung it at Araan and Four. It took advantage of the surprise attack and lunged at Six who was still firing.

  Six backpedaled, firing at its eyes as he withdrew. The bright white light of the shots stunned it but they did nothing else; even its eyes were impenetrable.

  The other teams arrived then, Fourteen's emerging leagues behind Araan. Their rifles out, aimed and firing at the creature.

  Araan ran after the creature as Six drew it away from the dome. Suddenly the creature slammed its tail into the ground and pushed itself forward in a wild leap. Six could not get away fast enough. Its wide mouth latched onto his rifle and tightened shut, missing the rest of him by the tiniest margin.

  When the spraying chunks of sand settled, Six laid writhing and screaming, his right arm torn off his shoulder. Yellowish fog was oozing out of the injury in torrents and dissipating quickly. He was bleeding. Badly.

  “Keep it distracted,” Araan growled into the communicator, as he closed the distance.

  This was where Araan was different from other Trigad Commanders—from any other cyperan in the known lands of the Empire. His soldiers were used to it now, knew what he meant by that order and did their best to stay out of his way. The creature had begun stalking Six like prey before the others drew its attention. Araan was running towards it, headed for the tail. The other soldiers just kept firing.

  The mission had been the Pod Wall but now it was more than that. Araan hooked his rifle again, grabbed the creature's tail with both hands and tugged violently. The creature stumbled and jerked wildly as the rough pull continued, ignoring the barrage of plasma shots and the soldiers.

  Araan didn't let go and the creature became insane.

  First through the field of bodies up the edge of the crater and then back in a haphazard motion towards the dome. Screech after screech the creature ran about in frenzy. He was strong enough that the struggle was little more than a bother, and the Mantle Armour would protect him from the worst of injuries. He tried to get enough grip that would allow him tug and spin the creature but the ground surface was too sleek and solid, the creature too frantic.

  When it was clear he wasn't letting go, it began slamming its raised tail, with Araan still attached, into the ground. As it did, the fork ends of its tail curved inwards, trying to pierce through Araan's armour. Araan lost his grip and the creature slammed its tail into his side, sending him flying across the crater into a rock a league or two away from the dome.

  The impact shattered the rock and left Araan reeling as he struggled out of the rubble.

  “Trigad One! Commander!” His communicator rang out. He could see them— Ten, Two and Fourteen running toward him. Ten had his forearm raised to his helmet.

  “I'm here, Ten,” he answered.

  He looked at the creature again as he shrugged off the dirt. The other soldiers kept it busy. “It's missing a pair of legs,” he said to the soldiers as they reached him.

  “Explains why we haven't been torn apart like the last unit... Most of us, at least,” Two said the last part looking at Six being carried by two other soldiers. No one said anything to that.

  They studied the creature, how it stumbled while running around trying to attack the soldiers, its obvious unnatural dependence on its tail. It was powerful, tough and learning, but it was injured and scared to lose another part of itself.

  Whether it was due to the last Trigad unit or something else, that injury was their advantage.

  “Focus your fire on its eyes and keep it away from the dome,” Araan commanded his fighting soldiers. As they redirected their aim, he charged at the creature alongside Ten and Two. Twelve stayed behind, repositioning himself and firing from a vantage point.

  The creature opened its mouth to screech and was met with a barrage of plasma shots in its mouth. Charred scars formed on its teeth and around its mouth where the shots hit. It stumbled back and fell, the ground rumbling as it did. It rose to its feet a moment later but Araan and the others were already there.

  Like Araan expected, there were festering wounds clogged with flesh worms next to its neck, where the creature's missing pair of legs should have been. Rifles out, Araan and the others fired at the injured spots. It tore open with every hit and the creature cried loudly.

  It used its tail again but Araan and his soldiers were quicker. They rolled out its way and hid underneath its raised head. When it retrieved its tail, the three resumed their attack.

  The other soldiers stood afar, in a half circle, aiming for its eyes, the inside of its nostrils and mouth, areas that would disorient it. Meanwhile Araan, Ten and Two focused their fire on the injuries. It slowed down at first, then the lashing of its tail became less frequent and drastically weaker. The creature's unscaled flesh splattered off and deepened till Araan could see bone and organs. All three extended the range of their attacks and the wounds stretched across the entire length of its head and it fell in a heap.

  Its breaths were short and raspy now.

  Araan walked over from its side to its face and pressed on its head with his boot. It groaned deeply but that was all it did.

  He unhooked his second rifle and shoved the muzzles of both weapons deep into the edges of its frightened eyes.

  “For Tomorann. For Trigad,” Araan said calmly.

  “For Tomorann. For Trigad,” his soldiers echoed.

  The shots rang out and he withdrew his rifles, back turned on the dead creature as they headed for the dome.