[Oliver’s PoV]

  Then, impossibly, the goo smiled.

  The black substance clung to the Hoplite’s face, pulsing like a living parasite. It stretched and writhed, connecting itself to the man’s body in sickening tendrils. The sound it made was a wet, slithering hiss, like flesh being pulled apart and stitched back together all at once.

  The Hoplite convulsed. His body jerked violently, his limbs snapping into unnatural angles before straightening again. The black slime wrapped around his neck, his shoulders, his arms, claiming him piece by piece.

  It was using him.

  The realization hit Oliver. The thing wasn’t just killing, it was controlling.

  The Hoplite’s movements grew smoother, faster, until he stood upright once more.

  “What can I do?” Oliver muttered under his breath; his weapon sat uselessly in his hand.

  The Energy shots had been absorbed, swallowed whole by the black mass like drops of water into sand.

  He stepped back, his boots crunching against the charred ground. The wreckage of the reconnaissance craft still burned behind him.

  The Hoplite, or what was left of him, turned his head toward Oliver.

  Half of his face was still human. The other half was gone, replaced by a glossy black sheen that pulsed with faint blue veins of light. His eye, what remained of it, was wide, terrified. And from that human half, tears streamed down his cheek, cutting clean lines through the grime and ash.

  The creature moved its body like a puppet, lifting the man’s arm, flexing its fingers, as if testing the limits of its control. But the human half fought back, the muscles twitching, resisting. The contrast was horrifying. One side smooth, graceful, precise; the other trembling, desperate, broken.

  The Hoplite’s mouth opened. The scream that came out was a guttural, layered noise that seemed to vibrate through Oliver’s bones. It was pain and fury mixed together.

  But Oliver had no time to dwell on it.

  The crash had transformed the landscape around them into a jagged scar of ruin. The wreckage of their ship lay scattered in molten fragments.

  No starlight reached this place. The void above was swallowed by the anomaly’s black haze, leaving them trapped in a pocket of eternal night. The only light came from the fires and the faint glow of their suits. Four small LED nodes on each side of the hip and each arm, casting narrow beams.

  But even that limited light revealed the changes around them.

  At first, it was subtle. Shapes crawling just beyond the reach of their lamps. Then the shapes grew clearer, closer. More black slimes were approaching them.

  They were surrounded.

  “On your feet! Activate Ranger Armor!” Oliver barked.

  The surviving Hoplites obeyed instantly, their armor flaring to life.

  The effect was immediate. The crawling masses reacted to the surge of Energy like sharks scenting blood.

  “Incoming!” one of the Hoplites shouted.

  The ground erupted.

  The black ooze launched itself from the shadows, flinging globules of slime through the air. They hit hard, splattering across armor plating with wet, heavy impacts.

  “They can’t penetrate the suits!” One of the Rangers called out, relief creeping into his tone.

  But that relief didn’t last.

  A faint hissing sound began to echo across the comms. It started as a whisper, then rose, sharp and insistent.

  Oliver’s eyes widened. He knew that sound.

  The surface of the Hoplite’s armor began to bubble. The metal hissed as corrosive vapor rose from the contact points, thin tendrils of black smoke curling into the air.

  “It’s trying to eat through!” Oliver shouted. “Throw it off, now!”

  The affected Ranger staggered, clawing at the slime clinging to his chest. But the thing was alive, it shifted, slipping between his fingers, reforming each time he tried to tear it free. The armor’s surface glowed red from the heat of reaction, the sound of corrosion filling the air like a scream.

  Oliver acted on instinct.

  [Green Dagger]

  The command word triggered instantly. A shimmer of light flashed in his hand, and a blade materialized.

  Oliver lunged forward, closing the distance in two strides. The slime reared up like a serpent, sensing the threat, but he didn’t hesitate.

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  The dagger sliced downward.

  The blade met resistance, not like flesh, but something denser, elastic. Yet even after the blade struck true, the goo didn’t seem affected.

  The black sludge quivered, split, and reformed, its surface rippling like liquid shadow.

  “It’s not working!” the soldier shouted, panic rising in his voice.

  The other Hoplites moved in instantly, forming a defensive circle. Their visors glowed faintly in the dark, the red and yellow streaks of their armor cutting through the gloom as they fired in every direction.

  Energy bolts streaked through the air, crackling with power, but the effect was minimal. The black masses absorbed the hits. The creatures didn’t even slow down.

  'They’re feeding on it,' Oliver realized grimly. 'They’re feeding on the Energy itself.'

  [Prometheus]

  Without much time to think, Oliver quickly tried the next weapon in his arsenal.

  The Green Dagger dissolved in his hand, replaced by a surge of heat that ignited along his arms. Flames burst from his palms, curling upward in twisting golden arcs.

  He lunged forward, grabbing the black slime directly with his hands.

  The reaction was immediate.

  A piercing, metallic shriek filled the air. The creature’s scream was so loud and sharp that it rattled the inside of his helmet. The goo convulsed violently, its surface bubbling and blistering under the attack.

  The flames of Prometheus burned brighter, licking up Oliver’s forearms as he poured more Energy into them. The slime writhed, its once-fluid form turning brittle, cracking like molten glass.

  Until it finally exploded in a shower of black fragments. The pieces twitched once, then fell still, dissolving into puddles that evaporated.

  Oliver staggered back, chest heaving.

  “Heat… light… Energy,” he muttered, piecing it together aloud. His gaze lifted toward the sky. Above them, the swirling black clouds churned like a living thing.

  The realization hit him.

  'The clouds, they’re blocking it. The planet’s being starved of light and warmth.'

  However, he didn’t get the chance to think further.

  “Careful!” one of the Hoplites shouted.

  Oliver turned just in time to see what the others were facing.

  The infected Hoplite, the one who the ooze had overtaken, was moving.

  But he wasn’t the same. It wasn't trying to learn how to move the body. It was changing it. His skin glowed faintly red, as if molten metal flowed through his veins. His breath came in ragged bursts, each exhale releasing small clouds of gas that hissed in the cold air.

  His eyes, once human, were now blank, white voids without pupils.

  The man screamed, an animal sound that reverberated through the crater, and swung his arm. The motion was clumsy but powerful; the sheer force of it sent one of the Hoplites sprawling backward.

  “Use Prometheus!” Oliver’s voice cut through the chaos like a blade.

  The two Hoplites reacted instantly. Energy surged through their armor, cascading down their arms in waves of molten gold.

  The creature, the corrupted soldier wrapped in black slime, halted mid-swing. Its head tilted slightly, the black ooze rippling as if… thinking. For the first time, it hesitated, the white voids of its eyes flicking between the burning Hoplites.

  “You good?” Oliver asked the fourth soldier, the one still scraping the slime residue from his armor.

  “Yes, sir,” came the breathless reply. The Hoplite straightened, raising his weapon, his stance steady despite the tremor in his voice.

  “Good,” Oliver said. He turned his gaze back to the creature, the parasite wearing his soldier’s body like a puppet. “We move together. Burn the slime. Don’t hit the host.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  Oliver closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, focusing.

  [Observation].

  The command pulsed through his mind, and the world around him shifted. But then, just as quickly, the Boon collapsed. A sharp, static crack rang through his skull, followed by the hollow chime of failure.

  'Impossible,' he thought, stunned. 'Observation doesn’t fail unless—'

  His stomach dropped.

  '—it’s a [Queen] or a [King].'

  That level of resistance shouldn’t have been possible. The thing was clearly weak.

  “Four against one,” Oliver muttered under his breath, forcing the thought aside. “That’ll have to be enough.”

  He raised his hand, the flames of Prometheus flaring brighter around his gauntlet. “Attack!”

  The Hoplites moved as one, charging forward in perfect formation. The corrupted soldier roared and swung wildly, the black tendrils lashing out in all directions.

  The first Hoplite ducked low, flames trailing from his arm as he deflected a strike. Another leapt in from the side, his burning fist slamming into the creature’s shoulder. The impact sent molten fragments of goo flying, but the slime reformed faster than they could damage it.

  Oliver moved behind the creature. While the others kept it distracted, he circled wide.

  When he was close enough, he didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, placing both hands on the back of the corrupted soldier’s head.

  The Energy surged through him like fire through oil.

  The flames of Prometheus flared violently, racing down his arms and into the soldier’s body. The golden fire spread like liquid light, crawling across the armor, seeping into every crack and seam.

  The creature screamed.

  But this time, the sound didn’t come from the slime.

  It came from the man beneath it.

  The scream was human, raw, agonized, pleading. It tore through the air, through Oliver’s mind, through every nerve in his body. It was the sound of someone burning alive from the inside out.

  “Hold him!” Oliver shouted, even as his own hands trembled from the force of the Energy.

  The Hoplites moved in, trying to restrain the thrashing body, but the sight was unbearable. The golden flames consumed the slime. The black ooze evaporated into ash until only the faint shimmer of Energy remained.

  And then… silence.

  The flames died.

  The soldier’s body went limp, collapsing forward like a marionette with its strings cut.

  “Did it work?” one of the Hoplites asked, his voice small, uncertain.

  Oliver didn’t answer immediately. He knelt, placing a hand on the soldier’s neck. He waited for a pulse, for anything.

  Nothing.

  “No breathing, no—”

  He didn’t finish.

  The body convulsed.

  For a split second, the soldier’s chest expanded, and then—

  Boom.

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