Side Story 2: The Alpha Protocol

Just before the Altar of Flesh was soundly destroyed, another force was already in motion.

Alpha Unit — Shogun Akira Hanzo’s most elite Delver unit.

They were not ordinary elites. Each member possessed abilities and raw combat strength that rivaled Class 4 Prisoners, and in some cases exceeded them. Where Skull Unit (the Tyrants) operated with brutal efficiency and growing ties to the anomalous Class 5 known as Zero, Alpha Unit was the Shogun’s personal hammer — deployed only when a situation demanded overwhelming, specialized force.

Their composition was simple and terrifying:

Their current assignment had taken them far from the mainland.

Deep beneath the waters off Okinawa lay the Yonguni Monument — a massive underwater dungeon that had once been one of the more stable and thoroughly cleared sites in Japanese territory. After Alpha Unit themselves had stripped it of its original threats years earlier, the Dungeon Society converted large sections of it into a black-site research facility. Top-secret Magicyte studies, experimental weapon development, and analysis of anomalous materials all took place within its reinforced lower levels.

Now the monument was changing.

What had been a controlled, heavily monitored underwater complex was beginning to evolve. Pressure readings fluctuated without cause. Sealed corridors reopened on their own. New biological signatures appeared in zones that had been sterile for years. The research staff had already been partially evacuated. The remaining security teams were reporting contact with creatures that should not have existed inside a cleared dungeon.

Alpha Unit descended through the final pressure lock in silence.

The moment the inner gate cycled open and the cold, blue-lit corridors of the lower research levels came into view, Tiny rolled his massive shoulders and checked the charge on his shoulder-mounted railgun.

“Looks like the quiet days are over,” he rumbled.

Angel floated a few inches off the deck plating, arms folded, the word GOD clearly visible across his simple shirt. A faint smile played at the corner of his mouth.

“About time something interesting happened.”

Galvan said nothing. He simply loosened the ōdachi in its sheath and scanned the darkened hallway ahead with calm, lethal focus.

Crow lit a fresh cigarette, the ember glowing in the dim Magicyte lighting, and patted the bulky Magicyte Hydra resting against his shoulder.

“Try not to cry when I steal the kill count again.”

Tiny gave a low, humorless chuckle and stepped forward.

“Alpha Unit. Move in. Let’s see what the deep decided to grow this time.”

The four of them advanced into the evolving depths of the Yonguni Monument.

Far above, the ocean pressed down with the weight of an entire sea.

Below, something that should never have woken was already waiting

“Captain, there is a force ahead,” Angel announced, already drifting forward a few inches above the deck. “I, as the god of this world, shall handle it.”

There was no real arguing with him once he had decided something. Tiny only grunted and motioned for the others to hold position.

Further down the flooded corridor, a squad of Sidhe advanced through the blue Magicyte lighting. Their expressions were already twisted into sharp, amused smiles. The one at the front carried a long, elegant saber and looked Angel up and down with open mockery.

“Oh-ho-ho… look at what we have here. A floating dandy.”

Another Sidhe smirked.

“Look at him. Such a fool.”

Tiny’s deep voice rolled down the corridor, thick Russian accent unmistakable.

“Don’t kill them, Angel… at least leave one alive, da?”

Angel glanced back over his shoulder, looking genuinely offended.

“You suck the joy out of this, you know.” He sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes. “Fine. If I must. A god is willing to bend to convention… occasionally.”

He turned back toward the Sidhe squad, the faint glow of Magicyte already beginning to shimmer beneath the surface of his skin. The word GOD across his shirt seemed to catch the light as he floated higher.

The lead Sidhe raised his saber, still smiling.

“Come then, little god. Entertain us.”

Angel’s smile widened into something far less pleasant.

“Gladly.”

The air in the corridor grew heavy with gathering Magicyte as the self-proclaimed god of Alpha Unit prepared to demonstrate exactly why the research staff had once called him the most unpleasant man alive to fight. Angel reached out one hand and simply closed his fist.

The nearest Sidhe detonated.

There was no dramatic buildup — just a sudden, wet explosion of flesh and bone that showered the corridor in gore. Angel threw his head back and let out a bright, delighted cackle.

“Oh! Pop goes the weasel!”

He drifted higher, Magicyte light crawling under his skin like living veins.

“Now then, little fae… I do suggest you come at me. Otherwise I won’t be a particularly forgiving god.”

They tried.

Angel moved faster than their eyes could track. One casual wave of his hand sent a crushing wave of force down the corridor, smashing an entire cluster of Sidhe into the reinforced wall hard enough to leave deep impact craters. Bodies crumpled and slid to the floor in broken heaps.

Only one remained standing.

The Sidhe gritted his teeth, raised his saber, and lunged with everything he had. The blade shot forward — then stopped dead, trembling, four feet from Angel’s chest as if it had struck an invisible wall.

Angel raised a single eyebrow.

“Oh? You dare attempt to harm me?”

He flicked two fingers downward.

An immense gravitational force slammed the Sidhe into the deck plating with bone-shattering force. Every limb twisted at unnatural angles as the fae warrior was crushed flat against the metal, a strangled sound escaping his throat before he went still.

Angel hovered over the carnage and glanced back toward his captain, looking almost bored.

“Tiny, these fae are weak… Are you sure we should let any of them live?”

Tiny Dragunov shook his massive head, the shoulder-mounted railgun shifting with the motion.

“Da. Leave at least one alive. Otherwise we won’t know what he is here for.”

Angel sighed theatrically, floating over to one of the less-destroyed Sidhe who was still weakly twitching.

“Fine, fine. A god must occasionally practice restraint.” He crouched slightly in the air above the broken fae and smiled without warmth. “Congratulations. You’ve been chosen to answer questions. Try not to disappoint me.”

Behind them, Galvan remained silent and watchful, while Crow took a long drag from his cigarette and muttered,

“Show-off.” 

“Galvan, please interrogate that fae before Angel decides to squash him,” Tiny said, almost pleading.

Galvan moved without a word.

One moment he stood with the others; the next he was simply there, appearing in front of the broken Sidhe like a drawn shadow. He looked down at the fae with flat, emotionless eyes.

“Answer my questions,” Galvan said, voice cold and even, “and I won’t have to enjoy torturing you.”

The Sidhe spat a mouthful of blood directly into his face.

Galvan sighed once.

Then he drove his fist into the Sidhe’s face with clinical force. Cartilage cracked. The fae’s head snapped back against the deck as fresh blood poured from his mouth, nose, and one eye.

“Not very nice,” Galvan remarked, wiping his cheek with the back of his glove. “Now… before I start losing my temper. What is your purpose in this dungeon?”

The Sidhe coughed, red spilling down his chin, and forced the words out through broken teeth.

“Class 5 Prisoner, you call him. To us he is a Failed King… a rebel. We’re hunting him.”

Galvan tilted his head slightly.

“Class 5? Oh. That guy. The one attached to Tyrant Unit.” He almost sounded disappointed. “Sad to say, if he’s as powerful as the reports claim, you never stood a chance. Pity.”

He stood and glanced back at Tiny.

“He has nothing more of value, Captain.”

Tiny gave a single nod.

Galvan turned.

In the space between one heartbeat and the next his ōdachi cleared its sheath. The blade flashed once in the blue Magicyte light. The Sidhe’s body separated cleanly at the waist and collapsed in two pieces.

Angel floated higher, looking genuinely offended.

“You ruin everything, Galvan.”

“Get over it,” Galvan replied, already sliding the bloodied ōdachi back into its scabbard.

Crow took a long drag from his cigarette and let out a rough laugh, smoke curling from his nose.

“Efficient as always.”

Tiny exhaled through his nose and checked the readings on his Codex. The deeper sections of the Yonguni Monument were still throwing abnormal signatures.

“Failed King, da? So the fae are already hunting Zero.” He rolled his shoulders, the massive railgun shifting with the movement. “Means we’re behind schedule. Move out. Whatever else is growing down here, I want it dead before it decides to swim to the surface.”

Alpha Unit advanced deeper into the evolving research levels, leaving only blood and silence in the flooded corridor behind them.

Deeper and deeper Alpha Unit descended.

The corridors grew older, the architecture shifting from modern reinforced plating into the original dungeon-carved stone that had been partially overtaken by early Dungeon Society construction. Eventually the passage opened into a wide, heavily fortified chamber.

They had arrived at the first Magicyte Research Facility.

It was one of the earliest installations established after the dungeons appeared. Okinawa had seemed the most logical choice at the time — an underwater site, relatively isolated, and originally populated by comparatively weak monsters. In those early years it had been considered almost ideal.

That did not last.

Over time the creatures began to evolve. They fed on ambient Magicyte, then on fallen Delvers, growing stronger and more aggressive with each cycle. Casualties mounted until the Society was forced to erect The Wall — a massive Magicyte blockade that sealed the deeper sections, protected the remaining research staff, and actively repelled the evolving monsters.

Behind that barrier, the facility continued its work.

It became one of the most efficient Magicyte harvesting sites in Japanese territory. Raw crystals and refined samples were extracted, stabilized, and shipped to the surface for transport to Central HQ, where the real processing and weaponization took place.

Now the facility was quiet in a way that felt wrong.

Emergency lighting cast long blue shadows across abandoned consoles and sealed containment tubes. Some of the harvesting arrays were still running on residual power, their soft hum the only sound besides the slow drip of water from the ceiling.

Tiny came to a halt at the edge of the main platform, railgun shifting on his shoulder as he scanned the area.

“Facility looks abandoned… but not empty.”

Galvan’s eyes moved methodically across the darker side corridors.

“Recent movement. Multiple sets.”

Angel floated a little higher, nose wrinkling.

“Ugh. The Magicyte here tastes agitated. Something’s been feeding.”

Crow took a slow drag from his cigarette and exhaled toward the massive sealed barrier at the far end of the chamber — The Wall itself, still glowing faintly with layered containment scripts.

“Bet you anything the fun is waiting on the other side of that.”

Tiny gave a low grunt and stepped forward.

“Then we open it. Alpha Unit — stay sharp. This place was supposed to be secure.”

The first Magicyte Research Facility waited in the deep, and whatever had been evolving behind The Wall was no longer content to stay there.  As they advanced, the truth became clear.

The Wall had been breached.

A massive section of the Magicyte blockade had been torn outward, the reinforced barrier ripped open as if something of enormous strength had simply forced its way through. The containment circuits along the edges sparked weakly, their power disrupted and failing. Beyond the gap, the research facility was a wreck.

Blood covered the floors in wide, smeared trails. Consoles and harvesting equipment lay smashed and scattered. Containment tubes were shattered. The air hung thick with the copper scent of violence and the sharper, electric tang of uncontained Magicyte.

Angel hovered over a pair of severed fingers still curled against the deck plating, expression mildly disgusted.

“It seems the bodies were eaten. There are only trace amounts of Magicyte left in the air… whatever did this went deeper into the facility.”

Tiny’s jaw tightened. He turned to the others without hesitation.

“Galvan. Scout the facility. I need to know how many survivors there are — if any.”

Galvan gave a short nod, already melting into the shadows of the ruined corridors, ōdachi silent at his side.

“Crow. Set charges. If the research is compromised, we download what we can and blow the facility.”

Crow exhaled a stream of smoke and gave a crooked grin, already unslinging a pack of Magicyte-packed demolitions.

“Music to my ears, Cap.”

Tiny checked the charge on his railgun and stepped over a smear of dried blood, eyes fixed on the deeper sections of the complex.

“Whatever came through that Wall is still down here. We find it… and we end it before it decides to swim for the surface.”

Alpha Unit moved deeper into the ruined research facility, the breached Wall looming behind them like an open wound. 

Galvan moved deeper into the facility in near silence.

The smell of blood grew stronger with every step. He tapped his comm unit once.

“More blood. Proceeding into Lab Alpha.”

Lab Alpha was one of the oldest sections of the complex — the site of the Dungeon Society’s first controlled experiments after the earliest Prisoners were discovered. It had always been a moral grey area. Using captured Prisoners for research had been sanctioned from the top, justified as necessary for understanding Magicyte, dungeon evolution, and the anomalous biology of those sealed inside the tombs. Necessary or not, the lab still carried a heavy, unpleasant weight.

Galvan stepped through the partially open blast doors.

The lights inside Lab Alpha flickered in irregular intervals, casting the ruined chamber in stuttering blue-white flashes. Overturned examination tables, shattered containment glass, and dried bloodstains covered much of the floor. Old restraint frames still lined one wall.

Then he heard it.

A wet, rhythmic sound — flesh and bone being torn apart, followed by loud, animalistic slurping.

Galvan’s hand settled on the hilt of his ōdachi.

In the far corner, something crouched over a half-eaten corpse. As he watched, the creature slowly rose to its full height.

It was humanoid, but wrong in every proportion. Long, protruding fingernails extended into curved claws. Its mouth was filled with jagged, saw-blade teeth. The eyes were completely pitch black, reflecting no light at all. A low, vibrating growl rolled from its throat.

The moment it registered Galvan, its powerful legs exploded into motion.

It launched itself across the lab in a blur of claws and teeth.

Galvan did not draw his blade.

He pivoted cleanly, drove a precise, full-force kick into the side of the creature’s head, and sent it smashing into the nearby reinforced wall hard enough to crack the plating. The impact rang through the lab. The creature slumped for half a second, then began to push itself back up, black eyes locked on him with renewed hunger.

Galvan finally drew the ōdachi, the dark edge of the Shadow Magicyte blade whispering free of its sheath.

“Persistent.”

From deeper in the facility, more wet sounds began to echo. The creature roared, the sound echoing through the ruined corridors of the facility like a signal.

Galvan’s lips curved into a thin, cold smile.

“Come on then. Come all. I haven’t had nearly enough fun.”

The beast lunged.

Galvan stepped in to meet it, ōdachi flashing once in a clean vertical arc. The Shadow Magicyte blade split the creature straight down the center. Both halves collapsed in opposite directions as Galvan flicked the black blood from his sword in a single precise motion and continued deeper into Lab Alpha without breaking stride.

More answering howls rose from the levels below.

Elsewhere, Tiny, Angel, and Crow pushed into the Living Quarters.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the creatures poured out.

They were the same breed Galvan had just killed — pale, clawed, black-eyed things with saw-blade teeth and unnatural speed. One of them launched itself straight at Tiny’s face.

The giant didn’t even shift his stance.

He caught it by the head mid-air and closed his fist. The skull burst like a ripe grape between his fingers. Tiny tossed the remains aside with a look of pure disgust.

“Cyka… these things are disgusting.”

Angel floated forward, already irritated, and reached out with one hand. He closed his fist. Three more creatures detonated in rapid succession, painting the walls of the living quarters with gore. He wiped imaginary dust from his shoulder.

“Filthy little things.”

Crow fired a short burst from the Magicyte Hydra, the twelve barrels barking as crystal-packed grenades turned an entire cluster of the creatures into shredded mist. He took a drag from his cigarette between reloads.

“Cap, how many people were in this facility?”

Tiny crushed another lunging creature under his boot and shrugged as if the number meant nothing.

“Three thousand five hundred staff. Two thousand reserves. Four thousand five hundred Delvers.”

Ten thousand people.

He said it the same way another man might recite a supply list — as if fighting through the aftermath of that many lives was simply another day at the office.

More howls answered from deeper in the living quarters and the connecting research wings. The facility was no longer a research site.

It was a feeding ground.

And Alpha Unit was only getting started. 

“Galvan, meet us in the Core,” Tiny’s voice came over the comms. “These things are squishy, so be careful not to stain your boots.”

“Copy that. On my way.”

Galvan sheathed his ōdachi in one smooth motion. Ahead of him stood a sealed elevator shaft. He didn’t bother with the controls. One precise kick caved the steel doors inward. He stepped through, gripped the main cable with both hands, and dropped, sliding down the shaft at controlled speed into the deeper dark.

Elsewhere, the rest of Alpha Unit split up.

Crow paused long enough to slap a series of Magicyte charges onto a load-bearing pillar, arming them with casual efficiency before continuing on. Angel found a grand staircase still mostly intact and began descending it with theatrical poise, floating a few inches above each step as if the ruined facility were a stage.

Tiny simply launched himself off a broken overlook, using raw power and mass to accelerate downward in a controlled freefall toward the lower levels.

Crow, last of all, took one look at the dramatic options available to his teammates, exhaled a long stream of cigarette smoke, and just walked down the ordinary service stairs.

“Show-offs,” he muttered.

Four different routes.

One destination.

The Core of the first Magicyte Research Facility waited below — and whatever had turned ten thousand personnel into food was waiting with it.

The Core was the heart of the facility — the main hub where the Dungeon Society’s earliest research into Magicyte Circuits and experimental weaponry had begun.

Now it was a slaughterhouse.

A vast open chamber stretched out below the upper platforms, its floor completely hidden beneath a sea of corpses and the squirming black-eyed creatures still feeding on them. The wet sounds of tearing flesh and cracking bone rose in a constant, sickening chorus.

Alpha Unit arrived one by one.

Tiny landed first with a heavy impact that cracked the platform. Angel drifted down moments later, still floating. Galvan emerged from the elevator shaft shortly after, landing lightly and surveying the carnage with a low whistle.

They waited.

Ten full minutes later, Crow finally appeared at the top of the service stairs, unhurried. He lit a fresh cigarette, took a long drag, and looked at the three of them with pure irritation.

Tiny smirked.

“Took your time, da?”

Crow exhaled a stream of smoke toward them.

“Show-offs. You know that? Can’t do anything with patience. Gotta jump into the din with the gracelessness of a fuckin’ bomb.”

Angel floated a little closer, looking faintly offended.

“Don’t be so mortal, Crow.”

Galvan was already studying the far side of the Core, where the main server banks still glowed with residual power behind layers of feeding creatures and wreckage.

“Alright,” he said. “We could carve through them. The servers are on the other side. I’ll head there and download the data.”

He started moving without waiting for approval.

Crow unslung the Magicyte Hydra from his back, the twelve barrels shifting with a heavy mechanical sound.

“Why don’t I lob a few ’nades down there and get their attention?”

Tiny nodded once, eyes still locked on the feeding swarm below.

“Low yield ones, da? No need to bring the building down around us. Not until the charges are set and the information is downloaded.”

Crow’s grin turned sharp as he adjusted the yield settings on the Hydra.

“Low yield it is. Try not to cry when they all come running.”

Below them, the sea of black-eyed creatures continued their feast, still unaware that Alpha Unit had arrived. Tiny pulled the massive warhammer from his back in one smooth motion and armed the shoulder-mounted railgun with a heavy metallic clunk. Angel rose higher into the air, Magicyte light already crawling beneath his skin. Galvan vanished into motion, parkouring off pillars and broken walls with inhuman speed, crossing the atrium in a matter of seconds and reaching the far-side server door before most of the creatures had even registered the threat.

Crow spun the revolving chamber of the Magicyte Hydra. The twelve barrels clicked into position.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

Four low-yield grenades arced into the densest part of the swarm.

They detonated in rapid sequence.

Clusters of razor-sharp Magicyte shards exploded outward, then split again mid-flight, turning into a storm of cutting fragments that shredded everything in a wide radius. Creatures were torn apart in sprays of black blood and ruptured flesh.

A unified, furious roar answered the attack.

The sound hit like a physical wave, slamming into the walls of the Core as thousands of pitch-black eyes snapped upward and locked onto Alpha Unit.

Tiny’s voice cut through the noise like a cannon shot.

“Alpha Unit — let’s move!”

He launched himself off the platform.

The warhammer ignited with surging Magicyte energy as he brought it down with both hands. The impact was catastrophic. A massive shockwave exploded outward from the point of contact, ripping through the front ranks of the swarm, hurling broken bodies in every direction and cracking the floor of the Core in a widening spiderweb of destruction.

Angel followed with a contemptuous flick of his hand, crushing dozens more mid-air. Crow’s Hydra barked again, stitching explosive fire across the left flank. On the far side of the atrium, Galvan was already forcing the server door open, ōdachi flashing once to clear the immediate threats around him.

The sea of creatures had been feeding.

Now they were hunting.

And Alpha Unit was hunting them right back.

Inside the server room, the air was thick with the smell of blood and something worse — a sweet, rotten fungal tang that clung to the back of the throat.

Galvan found the Director of Research slumped against the main console, still alive, but only barely. The man’s breathing was shallow and wet. Dark veins had begun spreading beneath his skin.

Galvan knelt beside him, voice quiet.

“What happened here?”

The Director’s eyes struggled to focus.

“Magicyte… virus. A Class Eight Fungal Bloom breached the Wall… Then the spores… infected the Delvers. After that they started killing the staff and the reserves…”

Galvan’s gaze dropped to the man’s hands.

The fingers were already lengthening. The nails had begun hardening into the same curved claws he had seen on the creatures outside. Mutation was progressing fast.

The Director tried to push himself upright, a low, involuntary growl starting in his throat.

Galvan took the man’s passkey with one hand. With the other he drew his Magicyte sidearm, placed the barrel against the researcher’s forehead, and pulled the trigger once.

A clean, necessary death.

He holstered the weapon without ceremony, plugged his secure drive into the main server bank, and initiated the download. Data streams flooded across the interface — research logs, Magicyte Circuit schematics, early Prisoner experiment records, and the full outbreak timeline.

The moment the transfer completed, Galvan triggered the quantum uplink.

A compressed data packet punched through the secure tunnel and raced directly toward Tokyo Central HQ, addressed to Shogun Akira Hanzo’s personal desk.

Galvan stood, ōdachi already back in hand, and glanced toward the reinforced door as the sounds of the ongoing slaughter in the Core continued to thunder outside.

“Download complete,” he said over the comms. “Data is en route to the Shogun. The source is a Class Eight Fungal Bloom. Recommend we finish this and collapse the site.”

"“Then we go with Plan B,” Tiny ordered, crushing another creature under his hammer. “Cover Crow while he sets the charges.”

Galvan’s voice came over the comms, calm as ever.

“And this Fungal Bloom?”

“If it’s not here, it’s probably elsewhere. We don’t have time to hunt it. Collapsing this facility is top priority.”

Tiny swung the warhammer in a wide arc, sending a shockwave of Magicyte force through another cluster of the infected. Crow was already on the move, dropping to one knee beside a primary support junction and unpacking a far larger device — a high-yield Magicyte demolition charge built for structural annihilation.

“It’s going to take five minutes to set this beast,” Crow called out, cigarette still clenched between his teeth.

Galvan launched himself from the far side of the atrium, landing hard behind a fresh wave of creatures. His ōdachi flashed in tight, efficient arcs, carving a clear path and keeping the swarm off Crow’s position while Tiny and Angel held the main pressure.

Crow worked with practiced speed, connecting leads, arming the core, and double-checking the timers. He took a final drag from his current cigarette, crushed it out, and lit a new one without missing a beat. At last he stood, brushing dust from his hands.

“We’re good. Ten minutes to get out of here.”

Tiny’s voice boomed across the channel.

“Alpha Unit — retreat! Proceed to emergency exits!”

They moved at once.

The four of them stormed up the walkways, smashing through reinforced bulkheads and sealed security doors without slowing. Tiny ran at a pace that should have been impossible for a man of his size, the deck plating shuddering under every step. Galvan raced ahead like a drawn blade, clearing obstacles before the others reached them. Angel simply rose and flew, skimming above the chaos. Crow kept pace with grim determination, the timer on the main charge ticking down in the back of his mind.

Behind them, the Core continued to boil with the remaining swarm.

Ahead of them, the emergency exits and the long ascent to the surface waited.

Ten minutes.

If they were still inside when the charges went up, even Alpha Unit would not walk away. The final bulkhead loomed ahead, thick reinforced plating sealed tight against the deep ocean pressure.

Tiny squared his shoulder, dropped his stance, and drove forward with raw power. The bulkhead crumpled inward under the impact, metal screaming as it gave way. Alpha Unit poured through the opening. The moment the last of them cleared the threshold, Galvan and Crow sealed the emergency locks behind them, the heavy doors slamming shut just as the first of the pursuing creatures slammed into the other side.

The countdown hit zero.

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

The explosion itself was muffled by layers of stone, steel, and seawater — but the aftershock was not.

A deep, rolling concussion slammed through the facility and outward into the seabed. The force was strong enough to make the local tectonic plates shudder. Distant alarms would already be lighting up seismic monitors across the region. Inside the sealed emergency tunnel, dust rained from the ceiling as the shockwave passed.

Then… silence.

The first Magicyte Research Facility, the breached Wall, Lab Alpha, the Core, and the Class Eight Fungal Bloom outbreak were gone — collapsed and buried under millions of tons of rock and water.

Tiny rolled his shoulder and exhaled.

“Job’s done.”

A moment later, every Codex in the unit chimed with a priority channel.

Shogun Akira Hanzo’s voice came through, calm and clipped.

“Data received. Alpha Unit — report back to Tokyo HQ immediately. We have a situation that requires your presence.”

Tiny glanced at the others. Angel floated with his usual smirk already returning. Galvan remained expressionless. Crow simply lit a fresh cigarette and took a long drag.

“Copy that, Shogun,” Tiny replied. “Alpha Unit en route.”

They turned toward the long ascent that would take them back to the surface and the waiting transport.

Behind them, the ocean settled over a newly created tomb.

Ahead of them, the war was only beginning to widen.