swallowing space

The cave smelled different.

For once, it wasn't scorched metal, oil fumes, or blood.

It smelled… warm.

Like home.

---

Freya stirred the pot over the stabilizer-flame, humming softly. Lisette carefully arranged heat-resistant rations on nearby metal sheets to toast them. Kira, fingers slightly burned, arranged everything into a flat pan — edible, improvised, and fragrant.

It wasn't a feast, but after weeks of dried cubes and bitter mineral gum, it felt like one.

"I don't remember the last time I smelled something this… normal," Kira murmured.

Lisette smiled. "Well, if they won't fight, maybe we can remind them what they're fighting for."

The girls glanced toward the back corner, where Kael sat, unmoving, still silent since waking. His face was pale, his eyes glassy.

Tyren sat nearby, carving lines into the stone wall with his knife, deep in some grim thought.

Oris was adjusting damaged tech out of habit — just to do something.

The men hadn't spoken in hours.

---

"Dinner's ready!" Freya called softly.

No response.

She brought a plate to Oris. "You need fuel too."

He blinked. Took it. "Thanks."

Kira approached Tyren. "Made this for you."

Tyren stared at it… then looked away.

Freya hesitated near Kael… then simply placed a plate beside him and sat across.

No one said much.

But for a flickering moment — as heat warmed the cave and flavor returned to their tongues — something fragile began to return.

Not hope. Not yet.

But memory.

Of being alive.

---

And then—

BOOM.

The sound tore the cave open like thunder.

The entire earth shook beneath them.

They were up in an instant.

Lisette dropped her plate. "What the hell was that?!"

Tyren sprinted outside.

Oris bolted after him.

Freya looked at Kael — his eyes suddenly wide with terror.

They all rushed toward the mouth of the cave—

And froze.

---

Outside, a thick, rising black cloud of smoke twisted through the sky.

And where once stood the three mechas of Unit 404…

There was nothing.

Just twisted piles of char, still crackling.

No sparks.

No salvage.

No chance.

The very cores were gone.

The ground beneath them scorched, and the metal melted like wax.

---

Kael dropped to his knees.

Tyren's mouth hung open, words caught somewhere behind rage.

Oris stumbled forward in disbelief. "No… no… NO—!"

Freya covered her mouth.

Kira fell back, tears instantly burning her cheeks.

---

Lisette whispered, "It wasn't an accident…"

And she was right.

These weren't blown coolant cores or glitching servos.

This was precise.

Calculated.

The mechas had been detonated.

---

Kael crawled forward slowly, broken pieces crunching under his palms.

He reached what used to be Ravager's core shield — now warped and blackened.

He picked it up gently.

Clutched it.

And didn't cry.

Didn't scream.

He just hugged it like a corpse.

And sat there.

---

Tyren took one step back.

Then another.

Then collapsed against a rock and let out a single, broken breath.

"Everything… gone."

Oris knelt down near the remains of his own mecha — Specter. His eyes were empty. He didn't even reach for it.

He just stared.

Freya moved to speak — but stopped.

There were no words for this kind of loss.

These weren't just machines.

They were companions.

Weapons, yes — but also sanctuaries. Armor not just against beasts, but against the weight of memory and betrayal.

And now?

Dust.

---

Trask and Draan arrived last.

And froze.

The two old men — seasoned, scarred — looked down at Kael, still clutching Ravager's melted plate.

Trask bowed his head.

Draan wiped his eyes.

"I've seen men lose limbs," Draan whispered. "Seen comrades gunned down beside me. But I've never seen this."

Lisette turned toward him, trembling. "This… this is the end, isn't it?"

Trask didn't reply.

---

Freya finally spoke, voice shaking.

"Who would do this…? Why?"

Oris answered flatly, as if reading a line carved into his mind.

"Someone who wants us to stay broken."

Kira crouched near Kael. "We'll… we'll rebuild."

"No," Tyren whispered. "We won't."

And his voice sounded… hollow.

As if something inside him had cracked and bled out.

---

The old men stepped forward at last.

Trask laid a hand on Kael's shoulder.

Draan knelt beside him. "We've lost plenty in our time, boy. But this… this is something crueler than war."

Kael didn't respond.

His eyes remained locked on the mangled shard of Ravager.

---

Above them, the smoke curled into the clouds.

The wind shifted.

And from far beyond the valley…

A low, rumbling roar echoed.

Distant.

Ominous.

Like something huge… responding to the pain of warriors who had finally been broken.

Or watching.

Waiting.

---