Chapter Text
The base was quiet, the hum of machines filling the stillness of the underground bunker. It wasn’t the same kind of silence Erend was used to—the noise here was constant, mechanical, lacking the rawness of the wilderness. He leaned against a table in the corner, staring at the flickering screen that displayed the final mission brief. Aloy had gone over it at least three times already, each time more focused and determined.
Erend rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. Tomorrow, everything changed.
They had a plan. He was supposed to head to a separate cauldron while Aloy, Varl, and Beta went to Gemini. His mission was straightforward: sabotage the machines to create a distraction. If everything went right, the Zeniths wouldn’t see what was happening at Gemini until it was too late. But that was the problem, wasn’t it?
If everything went right.
He glanced toward the others. Varl and Zo were standing by the far wall, talking quietly. Beta was tinkering with a device, though her hands shook slightly with the stress of what was coming. As for Aloy… well, she was off by herself, as usual. Going over the plan one last time, her face set in that familiar expression of focus, worry hidden just beneath the surface.
Erend sighed and downed another sip of his drink. No amount of scrappersap could settle the knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach tonight. Tomorrow was it. The mission they’d all been preparing for. The mission that could change everything.
When sleep finally took him, it wasn’t peaceful.
He found himself standing in the cold, sterile interior of a cauldron. Not the one he’d be heading to tomorrow—no, this was Gemini. He knew it immediately from the pulsing energy running through the metallic walls, the endless corridors that stretched out like a maze. He felt the hum of machinery beneath his feet, the ever-present thrum of the machines that lived here. It made the air vibrate.
Aloy was there, crouched by a console, focused on something with that same intense look she always had in the heat of a mission. Varl stood nearby, his spear clutched tightly, his eyes scanning the room, always alert. And Beta… she was at another console, nervously typing away, her brow furrowed.
Everything seemed normal. Just another mission, right? But no—something was wrong. Erend’s gut twisted with dread, the kind that stuck to your bones. He wanted to shout, to warn them, but no sound came from his throat. His mouth moved, but it was like the air itself refused to carry his voice.
That’s when they came.
The Zeniths appeared, golden figures gleaming against the cold steel of the cauldron. They were swift, terrifyingly swift. A blur of motion that seemed too fast to follow.
One of them moved toward Varl, raising a blade. Before Varl could react, the blade pierced through him, cutting deep. Blood sprayed across the console, and the sound of the impact—the wet, sickening thud—echoed in the chamber. Erend watched in horror, his body frozen, powerless to stop what was happening.
Aloy screamed. She lunged toward Varl, but she couldn’t reach him in time. His body fell, lifeless, to the ground, his spear clattering next to him. The Zenith who struck him down didn’t even look back.
Erend wanted to move, to fight, but he was stuck, helpless as the Zeniths left the cauldron, Beta now crouched low over Varl’s body, her terrified screams ringing in his ears.
The room blurred, dissolving into shadow. Everything slipped away, leaving Erend alone in the void, his heart pounding with the weight of this failure.
Erend jolted awake, sweat soaking his brow, his breath ragged as if he’d been running for miles. He blinked rapidly, trying to shake the lingering images from his mind—the Zeniths, Varl, the blood. For a moment, he wasn’t sure where he was. The cauldron? Was it real?
No. He was still in his quarters at the base, the dim glow of the overhead lights casting long shadows against the walls. The machines still hummed around him, steady, constant. His heart, however, was anything but steady.
He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. His fingers were trembling. The dream—it had felt so real. Varl’s blood. The Zeniths. Aloy’s scream.
He pushed himself up from the cot, his legs unsteady beneath him. He needed air, space, something to clear his head. But even as he tried to shake it off, the images clung to him like a thick fog.
The mission plan had already been laid out. He was supposed to go to a different cauldron to create the distraction, while Varl and Aloy handled Gemini. But now—after that dream—he couldn’t let Varl go. Not after what he’d seen.
Erend stumbled into the main room of the base, blinking against the harsh light. Varl was already up, adjusting his armor with a calm efficiency that Erend suddenly envied.
I can’t let him go.
The thought slammed into him with such intensity that Erend almost said it out loud. Instead, he clenched his fists, trying to steady his racing heart. He had to find a way to convince Varl to stay behind, to swap places with him—anything. He couldn’t explain the dream—he’d sound like a madman—but something in him was screaming that if Varl went to Gemini, he wouldn’t come back.
Varl looked up, catching Erend’s eye with a grin. “You’re up early. Ready to cause some trouble tomorrow?”
Erend forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, something like that.”