SABERS: Shadows of Ravena

"There's too many!" Atalanta's cry cut through the chaos as gunfire thundered like a relentless storm.

"Fall back to the walls! Prioritize evacuation!" Aegis roared, snapping the neck of a skimmer, the oily, serpent-like creature writhing in his grasp.

"Hold your ground!" Eilífr commanded, his twin MK99 SMGs roaring, cutting swaths through the horde.

"I'm hit!" Fenrir's voice bled through the comms. Iaso rushed to his side amidst the carnage, her tone firm as she barked orders. The chaos blurred as Skadi's sniper cracked like thunder, each shot a lifeline for their desperate defense.

"Eilífr! This is an order from all of us!" Iaso's voice was steady despite the fury around them. "Take Fenrir and ensure the evacuation succeeds!"

Time blurred as Eilífr dragged Fenrir through the melee, past the gates, and onto the transport. The agonized screams and the roar of the Nyrex faded into the hum of the shuttle engines.

But the past wasn't done with him.

A sudden, sickening green glow cut through the sky. Eilífr's fists clenched as his knees hit the floor of the shuttle, the weight of realization crushing him.

The Rod from God fell.

From the heavens, it pierced the earth with cataclysmic force. The blinding flash seared his retinas even through his augmented HUD. Then, a sound—a soul-crushing thunder that drowned all thought.

A city, a world, obliterated.

Eilífr woke with a jolt, the phantom tremors of the impact still coursing through him. His breath came ragged as his hands instinctively reached for his weapons. But all that greeted him was the dim glow of his cabin and the hollow ache in his chest.

"Another fucking dream." He thinks to himself bitterly. He tosses his legs over the side of his bunk and lands with a heavy thud.

Snifffffff, Huuuuuff

He deeply in and exhaled before picking up his beefy and trusty MK99s and clipping them to his waists. He double checks his ammunition and leaves his room to start his rounds.

Three days later, Eilífr stood in the sterile glow of the briefing chamber, his armor still marked with streaks of ichor from the battle he had with the unknown creatures a few nights back. Across from him, a holographic display flickered to life, projecting a rotating 3D model of the creature. Its elongated, sinewy body glistened with jagged scales and faintly glowing veins that pulsed in irregular patterns.

Dr. Callen, head of the research division, stepped forward, her fingers gliding over a control panel to highlight the creature's maw. The projection zoomed in, revealing rows of needle-like teeth set in a grotesquely flexible jaw.

"We've named it the ShadeMaw," she began, her voice steady but edged with tension. "Its name stems from two primary traits: its ability to merge seamlessly with darkness, rendering it almost invisible, and its unhinging jaw. This bite radius is nearly double its body width, allowing it to engulf prey whole. Once it clamps down, it doesn't just kill—it consumes, tearing flesh and disorienting its target through sheer sensory overload."

Eilífr's eyes narrowed as the projection shifted to highlight the faintly glowing veins running along the creature's body. "And the bioluminescence?" he asked, his voice low.

Dr. Callen nodded, expanding the view. "This is one of the most fascinating—and troubling—features. The bioluminescent enzyme it produces isn't just decorative; it allows the Shade Maw to metabolize and store ambient light. During the day, it absorbs energy and converts it into fuel for its nighttime activity, enabling it to sustain long periods of shadow concealment without rest." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "This isn't a creature designed for survival—it's a predator evolved for perfection."

Eilífr frowned. "Evolved? You're suggesting this… thing is natural?"

"Not quite natural as we know it," Callen admitted, her tone shifting to one of concern. "This is advanced evolution, far beyond what we've observed in any terrestrial or extraterrestrial species. Its adaptations seem purpose-built for predation, ambush, and dominance. But there's no evidence of artificial tampering. It's as if the environment it came from forced this accelerated evolutionary trajectory—something we've never seen before."

Eilífr's gaze lingered on the hologram, his jaw tightening. "So, the planet's producing these things? Adapting them to destroy us?"

Dr. Callen met his eyes, her expression grave. "It's not just the planet. It's something deeper—an ecosystem that evolves with unparalleled efficiency. If the ShadeMaw is any indication, we're not fighting a war against a singular species. We're facing an entire biosphere designed to make us extinct."

Eilífr looked back at the hologram, the creature's lifeless, gaping maw frozen in the projection. He exhaled slowly. "Then we'll need to adapt faster."

"On the positive side, analysis of the estimated 500 bodies retrieved suggests these creatures can only function in darkness or environments with minimal light exposure. This explains why they never attacked the base—our extensive use of interior and exterior lighting created significant light pollution, which deterred them entirely. I say 'deterred' because, following numerous highly dangerous experiments, we've confirmed that SABER-1 successfully eradicated every creature in the forest." She explained as everyone continued to listen with the utmost attention.

"Our experiments also revealed that excessive exposure to either natural sunlight or artificial light triggers extreme vascular activity in the creatures. The surging veins would likely cause them unbearable pain if they were alive. To summarize in simpler terms: as long as there is sufficient light, the creatures are unable to attack. This aligns with the footage from SABER-1's helmet camera. Despite spending hours in the forest, no assault occurred until Lieutenant Trottle landed, and SABER-1 deactivated his helmet light, which seemingly initiated the creatures' attack. Any questions?" She asks after finishing up.

A hand shoots up from the back of the group, belonging to Dr. Greaves, one of the senior biologists on the team. He adjusts his glasses, his expression skeptical yet curious.

"How can we be certain that the creatures' reaction to light isn't just a post-mortem response?" he asks. "Couldn't the surging veins simply be an autonomic reaction, rather than evidence that light incapacitates them while alive?"

She nods, clearly anticipating the question. "That's a valid point, Dr. Greaves, and we considered it during our experiments. However, we conducted tests on freshly subdued specimens—ones that were still alive at the time of exposure. The reaction wasn't limited to vascular activity. It included violent spasms and auditory distress signals, almost like high-pitched shrieks, that ceased immediately when the light source was removed.

She pauses, letting the information sink in before continuing, "When you combine that with SABER-1's helmet footage—showing no signs of aggression from the creatures until total darkness provided them cover—the evidence overwhelmingly supports that light incapacitates them while alive."

Dr. Greaves scratches his chin thoughtfully, glancing at the data on the nearby display. After a moment, he nods. "Fair enough. The combined behavioral and physiological evidence does make it difficult to argue otherwise, especially with what we've seen in the field."

A murmur of agreement ripples through the group, and the tension in the room seems to ease as the implications of the findings become clear.

Another hand rises, this time belonging to Dr. Alvarez, the team's lead field operations specialist. She looks puzzled. "I thought SABER-1 killed them all during the operation. How were you able to subdue any of them for further testing?"

She meets Dr. Alvarez's gaze with a calm, confident expression. "You're right—SABER-1 did eliminate the majority of the creatures. However, not all of them were killed outright. Some were critically wounded but still alive when they were retrieved from the forest. We were able to subdue them using a combination of tranquilizing agents and specialized containment methods. We took great care to ensure the creatures remained alive for as long as possible in a controlled environment to accurately observe their physiological reactions."

She adds, her voice steady, "SABER-1's success in eradicating the creatures was undoubtedly a turning point, but there were still a few left to study once the immediate threat was neutralized."

Dr. Alvarez considers this for a moment, then nods slowly. "I see. That makes sense. It's a bit of a relief, actually, to know there were still some alive to gather data from."

A new voice speaks up from the corner of the room, Dr. Patel, a veteran field biologist known for his cautious approach to conclusions. "How do we know there aren't more of them still around the base or hidden in the forest? You mentioned that some creatures survived, but doesn't saying they were all eliminated feel like a bit of a stretch?"

She meets his gaze evenly, unruffled by the challenge. "That's a fair concern, Dr. Patel. We never assume anything is fully eradicated without comprehensive checks. While it's true that a few creatures survived, the team, including SABER-1, conducted multiple sweeps of the forest and the immediate perimeter around the base after the last operation. We used advanced sensors and thermal imaging, and no signs of life were detected.

She continues, "Additionally, we've had aerial and ground reconnaissance units monitor the area for any residual activity since the operation. No unusual readings have been recorded, and there have been no confirmed sightings of new or additional creatures. I'm confident that the immediate threat has been neutralized, though we're continuing to monitor the situation closely."

Dr. Patel looks thoughtful, then gives a small nod. "Alright. I'll accept that for now, but I would feel more comfortable if we continued with some additional surveillance in the area, just to be sure."

"Agreed," she responds, a slight smile forming. "We're not taking any chances. We'll maintain heightened surveillance until we're absolutely certain."

The brief continued for a few more hours, with discussions delving deeper into the implications of their findings. The room was filled with a quiet hum of activity as the team analyzed data, debated conclusions, and considered the next steps in their research. The tension that had initially gripped the group began to ease, replaced by a sense of cautious optimism mixed with professional curiosity.

As the clock ticked on, the questions slowed, and the atmosphere shifted from intense inquiry to practical planning. The team members began taking notes, marking dates for follow-up experiments and preparations for future field operations.

By the time the session finally concluded, everyone felt the weight of what had been shared—and what still lay ahead. The screen displaying the footage from SABER-1's helmet cam flickered off, and the room began to empty, each scientist leaving with new insights, unanswered questions, and the quiet understanding that their work was far from over.

With the door closing behind the last of the group, the lights dimmed, and the base returned to its usual quiet hum, but beneath the calm, the knowledge that they were standing at the edge of something far more dangerous—and fascinating—lingered in the air.