Chapter 61: Memory of the Basilisk Strain — Echoes from a Flesh-Wet War
The moment I stepped off the void swimmer and onto the bio-flesh of the Hive cruiser, that familiar, almost eerie silence swallowed me whole.
It was always like this.
A queasy stillness—oppressive in its peace—that settled over the vessel the second we entered. All non-essential bio-forms dropped into energy-preserving torpor the moment they were secured inside, leaving only a handful of warriors, the living ship's digestive rhythms, and the slow squelch of internal organs to break the hush.
No idle chatter. No footsteps. Just the heartbeat of the Hive ship itself—pulsing deep below my soles like a leviathan dreaming in dark water.
I'd specifically requested no drones on this trip. No caretakers. No attendants. Just me, a few elite warriors, and Kimchi to keep things interesting. Which meant, to my mild regret, that the silence was thicker than usual.
