With the Psma Saw in his hands, Max checked a mental map before heading out. The bridge was looming as the safest pce on the ship. There were bulkheads with bst doors, turrets, supplies, warchives, and weapons as well. If there were survivors, they had to be there. The second option was OPS, particurly the C—Sec barracks and the brigs. But he tried to contact both sections, and all he got was white noise.

  —. Comms must have gone down too. — Max said to himself, refusing to believe that the entire ship had been completely overrun.

  The third option was engineering. The control room was heavily fortified and isoted from the dangers around it. But if he wanted to make his way there, he would have to exit the habitat drum via shaft elevator and take transit to the stern of the ship. So he tried to get through.

  —. Petrescu. This is Picard. Is anyone in engineering? Over. — like the previous attempts, a deafening silence. Max felt a lump in his throat, along with a booming sense of enclosure —. Come on dude, answer me. I can't be alone on this fucking ship. There must be someone else, Jensen? Krishna? Fontaine? –

  —. The light is coming. — a man's voice muttered from the other side. Max shivered as if an ice cube was sliding down his back. His throat closed up, and his muscles became paralyzed. It dawned on him that he recognized that voice. The fourth engineering officer, Lucas Acosta.

  —. Acosta, was that you? – he asked in a low voice —. Is anyone else with you? Are you okay? And what do you mean the light is coming...? –

  —. The light is coming for all of us, Max. — he interrupted in a whispering voice, and then let out a chuckle —. It’s coming for me, and it will come for you too. — and with a snap, the link ended suddenly. For a few seconds, Max listened in amazement to the roar of the white noise. He tried to retrieve the link.

  —. Acosta, are you still there? – no one responded —. That light, were you mean the fireflies, aren't you? Is that the light that is coming? – but minutes passed, and he realized that waiting for answers was a futile effort. He turned off the communicator and hung it on his belt —. Well, engineering is ruled out. —

  He left his cabin towards the bridge. On the way to the stairs, he found a graffiti made with yellow and glowing spray paint. The light is coming, it said written in kanji, and above, a blur drawn that, with some imagination, looked like a glowing fly, or a firefly. On the floor, there was a spray can with bloody remains. Max thought it best not to go that way.

  A piercing scream tingled his nerves, and without thinking he turned on the psma saw. When he turned around, he could see it. A goblin was rising from a cabin, along with a thick, putrid stench. Dampness welled up like a mist from within the darkened room, and one hand rested on the frame, as it pulled the rest of the body outward. Max unwillingly took two steps back.

  Then he looked at it. He wondered how he was still alive. His skin had taken on a sickly yellow colour. Lumps sprouted from his torso, neck and limbs, and when they broke they opened into wounds from which blood and brown slime oozed and dripped to the ground. The infected covered his face with one arm in the searing gre of the psma saw.

  —. Oh God. — Max muttered. The creature leaned on a heavy metal lever and stumbled forward slowly, like a drunkard. Then he could see its whole face. The tumours had swollen and disfigured it. The skin fell to shreds, forming hideous fps, exposing his diseased, jelly—like, throbbing flesh, which took on a yellowish, infected, festering hue. Max stepped back and recognised the victim who had succumbed to this hideous pgue: Benjamin Mubambwe.

  His dull eyes locked on the First Officer and he pulled the lever he was dragging across the floor. Pupils dited and constricted in quick succession, and his mouth twitched, producing gagging and guttural sounds. His lower jaw hung stubbornly, and his tongue hung down to his chest like a piece of flesh. Nodules of yellow fiments emerged from his windpipe and spread outward.

  —. Don’t come any closer! – he pleaded, raising the psma saw in front of him, trying to look menacing. The beam flickered, charged with electricity, its heat bending the air around him. Even an animal would understand the warning; danger. Benjamin did not.

  It lunged forward with a horrible shriek, waving the crowbar in the air. Max cut an arc with the psma saw and with a short screech the monster's arm fell to the ground. A howl of pain or protest, and then he slid the bde across its torso. Psma sliced through flesh and bone as if there was nothing there. The torso fell away with a terrifying crunch.

  The stumps fell, cauterised with burning edges. Blood gushed through, brown and slimy, spilling out onto the ground. Intestines slithered and wriggled from the torso like a jumble of worms. A corrosive, sulphurous odour assaulted his nostrils. Max vomited at the scene.

  He barely managed to catch his breath. A crack from the room put him on alert. He looked up, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that the walls were invaded by yellow vines. It looked like the inside of a beast, and in the corner, a huge cocoon pulsed and dripped brown fluid.

  Something was moving, pushing against the membranous walls, struggling to get out. Max realised he was on the verge of a terrible birth. In this revetion, the creature inside broke free, with a rip like fabric being torn, and then it tore open the prison in which it was trapped.

  A torrent of yellowish liquid erupted from within, the puddle reaching Max's feet. Ahead, a chitinous, pulsing limb tried to push itself out. A muffled, desperate cry rose from the depths of his soul as he watched the scene unfold. Two elongated arms, sharp like those of a praying mantis, dug into the ground and began to pull at a swollen, grotesque abdomen that dragged like a snail. Every nerve in Max's face twisted in horror. He turned on his heels and ran.

  Behind him, a heavy, fleshy thud shook the metal floor. With a cry like that of a calf being sughtered, this creature announced its birth. Suddenly, every goal became secondary to Max. Survival came first, and it didn't matter at what cost. He threw himself headlong onto the stairs, jammed the wrench between the doors and leapt down, heart in hand, the silhouette of that creature brushing against his heels.

  The metal door behind him flew off with a crash, and a terrible, long scream echoed through the corridors. The obstacle was useless, and as he ran Max caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye of the thing coming down the zigzag stairs towards him. A whirring sound assaulted his ears, like the bdes of a helicopter.

  He gnced back for a fraction of a second to see huge yellowish wings, like those of a colossal moth, fpping in the air. A visceral fear was unleashed in his brain, coursing down to his marrow. A sob escaped amid his gasps. He pushed his way out of the stairwell, pushing the door with his body and stumbling as he did so.

  The inner garden unfolded before him, and the fsh of the artificial sun blinded him for a split second. Fireflies appeared around him, but as his eyes adjusted to the light, they disappeared. The stairs leading down to the monorail station awaited him, as if inviting him to take them. But something made him stop.

  Lay was waiting for him, standing in front of the stairs. Dressed in a bulky, dirty orange space suit, she remained motionless, impervious to the chaos around her. Her mencholy green eyes were fixed on Max, and her bck hair floated around her. Fireflies with their yellowish glow appeared around her, and without any hurry she turned and began to descend the stairs into the darkness, one after the other, before his eyes and his patience. Max wanted to shout her name. He had to go after her. He couldn't. A punch sent him flying through the air.

  He crashed to the ground like a concrete sack, the psma saw turning off and flying out of his hands, spinning out of reach. Max tried to crawl towards the stairs, but his sister was gone. Hard, cold, slimy hands grabbed his head and flipped him over with terrifying force. Seeing what y in front of him, Max could only scream.

  A monstrous creature stood before him, its breath huffing and puffing like an angry bull. Clumps of getinous, viscous, yellowish flesh made up this anomaly, pulsing with every movement. A barely human torso clung to a swollen, grotesque abdomen and legs that glowed with an ominous, sickly light. Behind its back, sinister butterfly wings of nervous, translucent tissue fluttered, sending gusts of wind with a thunderous buzz.

  Decay emanated from its being, and with desperate thrusts Max tried to get its hands off him. The beast's bck eyes, like the Void, stared at him, and its spidery, fanged mouth opened in a horrible scream, like a million souls in unspeakable torment. And then he realised. This monstrosity had once been human. There was a lump between its neck and head. The remains of a face, swollen, disfigured, fused to the tissue of alien flesh.

  A grotesque limb, like a praying mantis' arm, tensed in the air, ready to cut him open like a fish out of water. In those seconds, Max was horrified by his silence, unable to scream at the thought of his own death.

  With a fsh and a crackle, the arm flew off, leaving a charred stump. Jets of dark, muddy blood gushed forth, and the creature uttered a dying scream as it turned. The sound of a psma bst blew half the beast's head off, and then Max fell to the ground, unflinching, reduced to a mere witness.

  A guttural growl came from the monster's exposed throat as it crawled forward, and streams of yellow slime mixed with blood gushed from the wound. A third shot to the abdomen was its death knell, as the vile material poured out of the hole, along with its intestines, which spilled onto the ground. The monster colpsed with a nervous crack, lying motionless on the ground as a pool of thick blood slowly formed beneath its body.

  Slowly, Max got to his feet as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Heavy boots on the metallic surface. Sitting on the floor, his head spinning, he saw them. Three figures in C—Sec riot gear. Greyish cyan armour with a narrow smoky visor on their helmets. One of them, the shortest, slowed down and walked straight towards the monster's body. He kicked it over and aimed a psma pistol at the body.

  One. Two. Three shots. He fired as burning, smoking holes erupted from the corpse. Four. Five. Six. Seven. The smell of charred flesh quickly filled his nostrils. A sudden tremor shook his body and a distant voice caught his attention.

  — Max. Hey, can you hear me? – A woman's voice spoke sharply, loud and distorted through the faceless grey helmet communicator. Max recognised her voice straight away and stared at the figure in the suit, thinking it was a hallucination.

  The woman dropped her arms and removed her headset. Max held his breath as he saw the woman's visor looking back at him. She had a face as white as a bowl of milk, with contrasting red lips and two rge, slightly sleepy green eyes.

  A lock of jet bck hair, almost bluish, peeked out from under the communication cap. It was Naomi. Part of him wanted to jump up and hug her, while the other part tried to pinch himself awake. Naomi rested her head on his shoulder for a few seconds and gave him a few pats on the back.

  —. We have to go, Max. — she said —. We have to go now. —

  —. The first officer, is he okay? – asked the Hobbit who had sughtered the beast. Max recognised the voice. It was Yakiv, one of the stowaways. The same one he had spoken to before Tabakar beheaded himself.

  —. Yes, Max is fine. Thank you very much, Yakiv. — said Naomi.

  —. Then let’s go. I don’t want to run into another Fairy. — Yakiv said. The monster was still oozing blood, and a huge puddle of reddish—brown was forming beneath its body. Max realised that's what they were calling the creature. This thing didn't look like a fairy, any more than the infected looked like goblins.

  He stood up, shaking, and followed Naomi and Yakiv without asking any questions. The third of his saviours was the only one who stayed a few steps back, looking at the corpse.

  — Dad! – called a child’s voice. Max saw Yakiv and Naomi hurriedly ignoring him —. Dad! –

  —. Don’t turn around, keep going... — Naomi ordered him to stop, but it was too te. He realised the horror that stood behind them. No doubt this thing had been a child, but like the goblins and fairies, it had ended up twisted, transformed. It was naked, its skin falling off in tatters. Its huge head looked at them with bulging eyes, and a thin arm waved in the air in a sad imitation of a greeting.

  The flesh had turned yellow and the torso was swollen with translucent bumps, disfiguring it like a sinister balloon of flesh. An amber light flickered from its belly, and then it grimaced at them, producing a poor and horrible imitation of a smile.

  Yakiv quickened his pace, and without looking back, they raced half a block. Naomi stopped and turned.

  —. Sdek, what the hell are you doing? – she asked, between muttering and shouting. The man stared at the kid and dropped his gun. – Sdek! –

  — Son? Son! Oh my God! I thought you were dead! Come with me! – As Naomi took a step forward to bring him back, the kid lunged at them, like a grotesque puppet of flesh guided by invisible strings. His movements were erratic and his torso swayed like a piece of rubber.

  They fled in horror. Eerie ughter echoed behind them. It sounded like recordings. They were distorted and repeated over and over, like a broken tape. Max didn't know what he regretted more, whether to turn around or keep looking. It happened with seeming slowness. The kid reached Sdek and jumped into his arms.

  The sound of the explosion was like a burst tyre. A fsh like thunder and a shock wave hit them like a battering ram. Max colpsed with the force of the air, and then pieces of Sdek rained down everywhere in a bloody shower. In his trail was a bck, bloody mess of still writhing organs, and a yellowish mist began to spread.

  All Max could hear was a buzzing in his ears. Naomi was trying to speak to him. He couldn't hear her. He only saw her mouth move as she pulled him, forcing him to stand up as the beeping faded and reality hit him. He realised Naomi's desperation too te. Mutant and infested men and women were rushing towards them from the abandoned recreation facilities. Some were still human. Others looked like living tumours, crawling, uttering amorphous screams. Max could hear himself gasping for breath. Adrenaline was boiling in his bloodstream. His vision was blurred with sweat. His muscles worked in agony. The pounding of his footsteps hammered against the floor.

  —. Over here! – A hoarse voice echoed across the courtyard. At first Max thought it was a joke. Another one of those puppets leading them into the darkness. But then he saw three figures in combat gear. One of them threw something into the air.

  A fireball exploded a few feet from their footsteps, spreading like napalm. Homemade incendiary cocktails. The goblins hit by it burst into fmes. They howled and whimpered as they burned.

  Others screamed like demons and ran aimlessly until they fell to the ground or crashed into a wall.

  — Burn in hell, you fuckin monsters! – shouted the man who threw the first grenade.

  One nded on the head of a mutant. The explosion sent him and the three others following him flying. Max was about to fall, covering his head as Yakiv pushed him forward. A second fairy emerged from the fmes, pulsing and screaming like a chorus of tortured souls, and spread her sinister wings over them.

  Then two humans appeared with fmethrowers in their hands. They unleashed jets of bluish fme onto the chitinous tissue of the beast, which reared up like a rearing horse and let out a monstrous, agonising, human roar. Max watched for a few seconds before the fairy moved away from the fmes.

  — What the hells are those things? – Max finally asked. The men raised the wall of fire and emptied the tanks before reloading and moving away from the butchery. Naomi tried to answer, but Yakiv cut her off.

  —. We have to get out of here. — Yakiv said in a stern tone. Max took one st look at the wall of white and yellow fmes. He continued his march to the sound of the beasts' cries in the distance, this time without looking back.