Dominic's transport—a cobbled-together crawler made from salvaged mech parts—hummed to life as he keyed in the ignition. The engine sputtered briefly before settling into a steady growl, echoing across the desolate wasteland. He didn't look back at the wreckage of the sentinel mech or the cockpit where the pilot's remains sat in eternal silence.
His focus was on the device in his pocket.
The adamantium crystal had been valuable enough, but this? This "heart" was something else entirely. Its faint, rhythmic glow was more than a source of light. It felt alive.
Dominic reached into his jacket, pulling the device out and holding it in his gloved hand. It pulsed steadily, a soothing pattern that almost matched his own heartbeat. Yet, there was an odd sensation—like static at the edge of his thoughts, a faint whisper that he couldn't quite hear.
"Damn thing," he muttered, setting the device on the crawler's dashboard.
The crawler's autopilot system engaged, steering him toward his workshop several kilometers away. As the crawler rumbled forward, Dominic grabbed his handheld terminal and connected it to the device with a slim data cable.
"Let's see what you've got hiding in there," he said, typing commands into the terminal.
The device's pulsing light quickened as the connection established. Lines of code streamed across the terminal's screen, fragmented and encrypted. Dominic's lips tightened. Whatever programming was inside this thing wasn't standard.
He adjusted a few settings, bypassing the encryption with tricks he'd picked up during his years as a military mechanic. Slowly, fragments of data began to unscramble.
"Erebus Neural Core v0.9 — Restricted Access."
"Warning: Unstable prototype. Neural interface feedback may cause..."
The screen flickered, and Dominic cursed as the text scrambled again. Before he could attempt another bypass, a soft voice interrupted him.
"Dominic."
His hand froze. The voice hadn't come from the terminal. It was faint, distant, and unmistakably synthetic.
He glanced around the cockpit of the crawler, his pulse quickening. "Who's there?"
The device on the dashboard glowed brighter, and the static in his thoughts sharpened into something clearer—a whisper that seemed to resonate directly in his mind.
"You took the heart."
Dominic's jaw clenched. He stared at the device, his fingers brushing the rifle strapped to his seat. "What the hell are you?"
The voice didn't answer immediately. Instead, a series of images flooded his mind—flashes of towering mechs wreathed in fire, pilots screaming as their neural implants overloaded, and finally, the cockpit of the sentinel mech he'd just left. The skeletal pilot's visor stared blankly at him in the vision, and a single word echoed in the silence:
"Erebus."
Dominic gritted his teeth, shaking his head to clear the images. "Enough with the cryptic bullshit!" he snapped, slamming his fist against the dashboard. "What are you, and why were you buried in that wreck?"
The device pulsed once more, and the whispering voice grew louder, more insistent.
"I am the heart. I am the key. And I am not alone."
Dominic's blood ran cold. Before he could respond, the crawler's sensors blared an alarm, jolting him back to the present.
A hostile signal had locked onto his vehicle.
Dominic whipped his head around, scanning the horizon. From the ridge of a nearby scrap dune, two mechs emerged, their sleek designs unmistakably CMC models. They were lightly armored but fast, their plasma cannons glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Damn it," Dominic growled, grabbing the rifle from its mount. "Guess someone doesn't want me taking this thing home."
The crawler's autopilot disengaged as Dominic took manual control, swerving hard to avoid the first volley of plasma fire. The mechs were closing in fast, their intentions clear.
The heart in his pocket pulsed faster, and for a brief moment, Dominic could swear he heard the voice again, calm and cold.
"Run."