Elysia and her children hurried across the desolate Martian landscape, their movements urgent as the spaceport loomed on the horizon. It was a beacon of hope, but as they drew closer, unease settled over her. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
The spaceport, once alive, now silent. No hum of engines, no voices. Just the scent of burnt metal and death. Dark control towers, open gates creaking like a beast's maw.
Elysia's heart sank as she scanned the area for signs of life—for Ares. Shadows flickered across the cracked concrete, and debris lay scattered, evidence of a recent skirmish. Her instincts screamed for caution, compelling her to shield her children from whatever horror lurked nearby.
The children, sensing her tension, huddled closer. Elysia tightened her grip on Jove and rested her other hand on Romulus and Juno, silently vowing to protect them no matter what. Her mind raced through plans and possibilities, each more desperate than the last.
Outside was suicide, no cover. The spaceport might have been overrun, or Ares could have been there, hurt or worse.
Elysia took a steadying breath. They couldn't stay outside. "Stay close to me, no matter what," she whispered, her voice firm despite her fear. She grasped the crude weapon she'd picked up during their journey -- a metallic rod. It wasn't much, but it was something.
With her children in tow, she pushed open the spaceport's creaking door. Inside, dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows that seemed to breathe with the silence. The walls bore the scars of battle: shattered glass, bullet holes, and dark stains that spoke of violence. The air was thick with the smell of spent ammunition and blood.
Elysia moved cautiously, her eyes scanning every corner, every shadow. The children clung to her, their small hands gripping her clothes. She forced herself to stay calm for their sake, though her thoughts churned with anxiety. She looked down at Romulus and Juno, her gaze softening, and whispered, 'We're going to make it, okay?' They nodded, their eyes wide but trusting, giving her a small, brave smile.
"Stay quiet, stay close," she whispered to the twins, her voice barely audible. Each step was deliberate as they navigated the maze of corridors leading to the Mangal-Grah's hangar, her husband's family's private dock.
When they reached the dock, her heart lifted briefly at the sight of their ship. But her relief was short-lived. Five K'tharr blocked their path, their grotesque forms illuminated by the flickering lights. Elongated bodies swayed, venomous teeth glinting as they snarled softly, their malevolent eyes scanning for prey.
Elysia's chest tightened. Fighting them with three children to protect was a death sentence. But retreat wasn't an option. Their survival hinged on reaching that ship. She knelt and whispered, "Stay behind me, no matter what. We're getting on that ship."
She led them through the hangar, moving with the precision of a shadow. Using debris and abandoned machinery for cover, they crept forward. Each step felt like an eternity, the children mimicking her silence. The tension was suffocating.
As they snuck through the hangar silently, one of the K'tharr lifted its head, sniffing the air, as if sensing something. Elysia froze, motioning for her children to do the same. The creature's ears swiveled, its nostrils flaring. Romulus shifted, accidentally nudging a piece of debris. The sound of it rolling echoed in the stillness.
The K'tharr's head snapped toward them. Elysia's heart pounded as she locked eyes with Romulus, silently willing him to stay still. The creature took a step forward, its maw parting as if tasting the air. Another K'tharr hissed from across the hangar, drawing its attention away. It turned and slinked back to the pack.
Elysia exhaled, her relief short-lived. As they neared the ship's ramp, Jove began to cry. The soft whimper quickly escalated into a wail that shattered the fragile silence.
The K'tharr reacted instantly. Heads snapped toward the sound, their eyes narrowing with hunger. Hisses filled the air, their anticipation palpable.
"Run!" Elysia hissed, pulling her children toward the ship. Her feet pounded against the cold metal floor, her mind singularly focused on reaching the ramp. Behind them, the K'tharr gave chase, their long strides closing the distance.
She could feel the vibration of their pursuit, hear their guttural snarls. Her heart sank as she realized the ship still felt impossibly far- They weren't going to make it. One of the creatures leaped, its body a blur of grotesque motion.
Elysia's breath hitched as she whispered, "I'm sorry."