Prologue

My grip on my Energy Tomahawk tightened, sweat dripping into my eyes.

"FUCK! MOVE!" I shouted as a tsunami of lava came roaring toward us.

I dove to the side, rolling across scorching rock. Ryan barely made it to his feet, unloading rapid-fire shots from his Energy Rifle. Not the best aim, but the guy could lay down some serious fire when he needed to, especially with that Power Surge ability of his. If only he actually hit more of his shots, we’d be in business.

“Okay, we’re calling this a boss fight, right?” Ryan called over the chaos.

“More like a fucking death wish,” Zoe snapped, flipping backward and firing a sniper round straight into the giant’s face. The bastard barely flinched.

Danny roared as he charged in, his Energy Warhammer glowing hot. “Emily, cover me!”

Emily raised both Plasma Blasters, laying down a storm of energy bolts at the monster’s arms. “You got it, big guy! Try not to get your ass melted!”

A deep, guttural growl shook the cavern as Pyroclasm summoned Lava Reapers from the surrounding magma. They slithered toward us, liquid fire in beast form, fast as hell.

I flung my tomahawk, embedding it into a Reaper’s skull before yanking it back. “We need to clear these things out or they’re gonna box us in!”

Ryan vaulted onto a rock, raining down fire. “No shit! These assholes just keep coming!”

Zoe slid under a Reaper’s swipe, her Energy Dagger slicing through its molten gut. It screeched before crumbling into embers. “Hit their cores! That’s the weak spot!”

Danny carved through another Reaper, gritting his teeth. I stole a glance at him, his massive, reinforced heavy armor absorbing heat and blows like it was nothing. Meanwhile, I was basically running around in reinforced spandex. “Lucky bastard,” I muttered, dodging another blast of molten rock. Sure, my armor let me move fast, but a little extra protection wouldn’t kill me. Probably.

“And Pyroclasm?” Danny barked.

I locked eyes with Emily. “Hit it hard. Hit it fast. And don’t fucking stop moving.”

The more we hit it, the hotter it burned. The cracks along Pyroclasm’s body started glowing white-hot, and suddenly, the whole goddamn battlefield turned into a deathtrap.

“FUCK, THE FLOOR!” Ryan barely dodged a jet of fire erupting beneath him.

Emily sprinted, flipping mid-air and unloading both blasters into Pyroclasm’s shoulder. “I think it’s pissed.”

“No fucking kidding!” I panted, dodging a fireball the size of a truck.

Danny activated his armor’s exo-support, barreling through another wave of Reapers. “Zoe! Sniper shot to the eye, NOW!”

Zoe took aim, steady as hell despite the chaos. One breath. One shot. The plasma round punched through Pyroclasm’s left eye, making the beast stagger.

I didn’t waste the opening. Sprinting up a crumbling rock formation, I launched myself into the air, swinging my tomahawk straight into Pyroclasm’s skull. The energy blade sizzled as it dug deep.

Pyroclasm roared, sending out a shockwave of flame that sent me flying.

Ryan caught me midair, barely keeping his footing. “Okay, let’s NOT do that again.”

I coughed, grinning through the pain. “No promises.”

The whole place was coming down. Pyroclasm went full berserk, the ground splitting apart as fire spewed in every direction.

This fight was a goddamn disaster, but we weren’t done yet. My team, my crazy, reckless, brilliant team, was still standing, still fighting. Zoe, a blur of motion and precision, striking with the kind of grace I could only dream of. Danny, an unstoppable force, taking hits I wouldn’t survive and swinging that Warhammer like it was an extension of his body. Ryan, even bleeding out, still cracking jokes, still trying to fight. And Emily…

“We’re out of time!” Emily yelled.

Damn, she was something else. Sharp, focused, moving like she belonged in the firestorm, not against it. There was something hypnotic about watching her fight, both deadly and beautiful. And I was absolutely fucking gone for her.

Zoe sprinted across a crumbling ledge. “Then we kill it. NOW.”

Danny flexed his grip on his warhammer. “Let’s fucking end this.”

I looked at Ryan. “You got one last stunt in you?”

Ryan smirked. “You know me, I live for this shit.”

We sprinted toward Pyroclasm’s massive frame. Ryan slid low, but before he could fire, Pyroclasm’s claw lashed out and caught him. A scream tore from his throat as molten claws shredded through his armor, nearly tearing his arm clean off. Blood and scorched flesh sizzled on the ground as he crumpled.

“RYAN!” I skidded to his side, grabbing him just before another swipe could finish the job. His arm was a fucking mess—blackened, torn to hell, fingers barely attached.

Danny saw what was happening and roared, slamming his fist into his armor’s control pad. Aggro Beacon activated. A pulse rippled out from his suit, forcing Pyroclasm’s focus onto him.

“Come on, motherfucker!” Danny bellowed, raising his warhammer. “Try that shit on me!”

Pyroclasm’s eyes snapped to Danny, its molten claws swinging toward him instead. I took the moment to haul Ryan back, ignoring his gasped curses of pain.

Danny swung his Warhammer with everything he had, punching straight into Pyroclasm’s chest and exposing its core.

Ryan gasped through gritted teeth, trying to stay conscious. “Shit… that’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Just hold on,” I snarled, dragging him back.

“NOW, EMILY!”

Emily unleashed both blasters, flooding the core with plasma rounds. The large molten golem let out a final, deafening shriek as the energy ripped through it.

The explosion sent shockwaves through the cavern. I barely hit the ground before molten debris started raining down.

Then, silence.

***

[+0 skill XP]

[+18,000 credits]

[Mission completed! Pyroclasm Defeated, reward: 0 skill XP, 115,000 credits]

***

The exit portal shimmered open, but my eyes locked onto something else. The shadows peeled away, and there it was, sleek and alien, impossibly advanced. The Vanguard Displacement Drive.

Emily’s voice cracked in disbelief. “Holy crap on a cracker.”

Ryan, despite his mangled arm, was practically vibrating. “We got it! We actually got the damn thing!”

Danny, flexing his exosuit, braced against the Drive’s massive frame. “Guess that means me.”

I exhaled, watching as he started hauling it toward the portal. This was it. This was what we had fought for.

We barely made it. Ryan was alive, though his left arm looked like something the that Pyroclast boss had chewed on for fun. Third-degree burns, ligament damage, the med-scans in our helmets were screaming red warnings. He’d live, though. Ryan was tough. A week or six in a medical pod and he’d be right as rain. Big baby could handle it.

And for what? A single FTL drive. But one was all we needed.

We were fucking done with Venus and its goddamn portals. Every single one was the same: boiling heat, choking air, and not even a second to take our visors off. Absolute misery. And the IFC outpost? A goddamn sardine can, hundreds of sweaty, pissed-off people crammed into an underground bunker with no space, no privacy, and the worst bunk beds imaginable.

But the worst part? The wait. Venus portals were the holy grail, every team wanted in, hoping for an FTL drive. The queues stretched for weeks, sometimes months. If your spot came up and you weren’t there, tough shit, back of the line. We spent half our time scrambling across the system, just making sure we didn’t miss our slot. After 30 brutal delves and endless waiting, we finally had what we needed. Good fucking riddance.

I was slouched at the bar in my dad’s shipyard café, tapping my fingers on the worn wood counter. The place smelled like espresso and grease, a weird mix that somehow felt like home. The hot chocolate in front of me was damn near perfect, rich and smooth, the kind that made you forget the station’s busted climate control was letting the cold creep in through every seam. Outside the big plate-glass windows, all you could see was the endless dark of space, the neon red sign buzzing softly like it was trying to stay awake. Cozy, but in that slightly rundown, “we don’t fix things until they’re broken” way. Classic Athan Rossi vibes.

The Vanguard Drive had changed everything. But now came the hard part—building a ship that could actually use it.

The door swung open. My old man. Calloused hands, a face that could sell you a starship or rearrange your face, depending on the hour. He spotted me, that little smirk tugging at his mouth, Here we go again, kid.

“Hey, Dad,” I said, trying not to sound like I was hitting him up for cash. Grinned anyway. It’s a reflex. “Got something I wanna run by you.”

He slid onto the stool across from me and waved down the server for his usual double espresso. The man could probably drink rocket fuel and still sleep like a baby. "For you, Luca? Always." He leaned back, all casual, like he had all the time in the world.

We shot the shit for a bit, family, the crew, whatever small talk we could scrape together. It was mostly him asking about the latest portal delve, me trying to make it sound less dangerous than it was. You know, the usual.

“So, what’s the emergency that couldn’t wait?” he asked.

I leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “Okay, so here’s the deal: the Triumph. The Alpha Centauri ship.”

“The one Karen’s funding? What about it?”

“We need to talk ship, literally,” I said, lowering my voice. “Look, Genesis builds solid stuff, workhorses, yeah? But this… this needs to be different.”

“Different how?”

“Big, Dad. Way bigger than your usual runabouts. Think long-haul, adaptable. Alpha Centauri is just stop one. We need a ship that can be a home out there, for years if necessary.”

He raised an eyebrow, gaze sharp. "Years? Planning a one-way trip?"

"Hell no," I said, maybe too fast. Didn't want him thinking we were bailing, not after Mom. "But we need to be ready for anything. This isn't a joyride; we’re pushing boundaries. We might even hit past level 60 out there, who knows? We need a ship that can keep up.”

“And what happens when you run into something out there that pushes back?” he asked, now leaning forward, his voice serious. I guess I must have spooked him.

“We’ll be ready. Best damn team in the sector. Ryan’s engineering brain, Danny’s science smarts, even Zoe picked navigator at 54. With the right ship, we can handle it. Besides, this is our shot to show the UER what we’re made of. To go beyond.”

He was silent, stirring his espresso. "It's more than just seeing new planets for you, isn't it?"

“It's about a lot of things. Getting away from here, maybe. Seeing something new.” I replied quickly. There was a lot I wanted to do: explore the universe and see new stars and new planets. My team needed a break; we’d been delving into portals nonstop, raising money for this mission to commission our ship. I remember that original ‘System’ message four years ago. The system arrived to all civilizations in the Milky Way. I wanted to see them, I wanted to get there first.

"Your mother always said you had stars in your eyes," my dad said, sighing, a hint of sadness in his voice. He must be remembering her, how much she had believed in me, in this crazy dream.

"Maybe I do. Is that so wrong?" I asked, an edge to my voice. Maybe I needed this escape, this chance to prove myself. And maybe the team did too. We'd spent years delving, fighting to survive in those damn portals. We deserved a break from the grind, a chance to see something beyond Earth and its endless politics.

He sighed. "No. But space is a bitch, Luca. Doesn’t give a damn about dreams.” He was right, of course. It had been a bitch setting up the Shipyard and running it; so many teams had been lost on Mars, Europa, and so many other planets and moons, people who went in unprepared, underequipped, or just had bad luck.

“That’s why we need the right ship, Dad. A fighting chance.” I pulled out my tablet. Emily said I drew like a kid, but whatever. “Look.”

I didn’t wait for him to agree before diving in. “Midsize, roomy for eight. Modular so we don’t kill each other in tight spaces. Big, open bridge with map tables and viewports. Private cabins – screw the bunks. A galley that isn’t a closet. Labs, hangar. Comfort and function, that’s the play.”

I couldn’t stop once I got rolling. My hands were flying everywhere, gesturing like I was already giving a tour of the ship that didn’t even exist yet. “Surveying planets, charting systems nobody’s even named yet. We find a good spot, touch down, and bam, alien landscapes under our boots.”

My voice got louder without me meaning it to. “Think about it, Pop. We could uncover entire civilizations, or strike it rich on resources no one’s even dreamed of. And the team, my crew, we’re ready to make it happen.”

He sipped his coffee, slow and steady like he had all the time in the universe. “Quite the adventure you’ve got planned,” he said, one eyebrow raised like he wasn’t sure if I was a genius or just full of shit. “And what about when you need some R&R?”

I threw my head back, stretching, letting the warmth of the chocolate spread through me. "Oh, don’t worry, Pop. We’ve got plenty of comfortable spaces for that too." In my head, I could already see it: the plush lounge, the dim lighting. Perfect for, you know, unwinding after a long day of discovering new galaxies. “Picture it. Dad: soft rustle of pages, the murmurs of strategy over poker, the kind of vibe that makes the ship feel like home.” My eyes lit up as another idea hit me “Or," I said, grinning, "help Zoe whip up one of her famous casseroles in our state-of-the-art kitchen."

Dad sipped his espresso and gave me the look, the one that said, You’ve got big dreams, kid, but do you have the budget? “You know this isn’t going to be cheap,” he muttered. “Just the space alone, the engine, building materials, furnishings... Installing that FTL drive.”

I plastered on my most confident smile, even though my stomach did a nervous flip at the mention of the Drive. "I know it’s a big undertaking, Dad," I said, throwing in a casual shrug like I wasn’t sweating bullets over the numbers. "But I’ve run the math. Between our savings and some financial backing from Karen at the IFC,” and that useless level cap holding me back from actually using my 'Starship Navigation Familiarity' to its full potential… “I’m confident we can make it work."

The word confident hung in the air like I had it tattooed across my forehead. Truth was, I was about 80% sure we could pull this off, and that 20% uncertainty? Yeah, I buried that under layers of bravado and blind optimism. What was the alternative? Give up before I even started? Not my style. Besides, if we didn’t figure it out, Emily would definitely kill me, and Zoe would probably find a way to make it worse just for fun.

Dad raised an eyebrow, the kind of eyebrow lift that could stop a lesser man in his tracks. "This is... ambitious, Luca. You do realize what you're asking for, right? This isn't just a bigger ship. It's a whole different class." He shook his head slightly, running a hand over his tired face. "The cost... we're talking 400, maybe 500 million, easy. And that's a bare-bones estimate. No gravity generator, no supplies."

For a second, my enthusiasm dipped like someone had cut the power. Half a billion credits? It was a number so big it didn’t even feel real. But I wasn’t about to show weakness, not now, not in front of him.

"I know it’s a lot of money, Dad," I admitted, my voice steady, “but we'll make it back. We find something valuable out there, a new resource, a new technology... it'll pay for itself. And Karen, she believes in the mission. She greenlit the Triumph Initiative, remember?.”

"She greenlit a proposal," he countered, his voice firm. "Building a ship like this... that's a whole different ball game. I'll have to clear some schedules, expand the drydock..." He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "And Karen's a businesswoman, Luca. She'll expect a return on her investment."

Of course, she would, why else would she loan us the money? It's her IFC on the line as well. The United Earth Republic would have her head if we failed. "We'll give her one. I know we will," I said, my voice ringing with a conviction I hoped I could live up to.

God, I hope that doesn’t sound as desperate as it feels.

Dad leaned back, studying me with that thoughtful expression he always got when he was deciding if I was full of shit or just stubborn enough to pull it off. "You always were the ambitious one," he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Ambitious," yeah, that was one word for it. Maybe reckless or stupidly hopeful would've been more accurate. Relief bubbled up as he added, "Alright, let me talk to my engineers. We'll run the numbers, see what's feasible. No promises, but I'll see what I can do."

I grinned so wide it hurt. "Thanks, Dad. You won't regret it." We clinked our mugs together, his espresso against my hot chocolate, and for a second, it felt like we'd already won. Like maybe, just maybe, this crazy dream could actually happen.

In the back of my mind, though, the doubts were already lining up, whispering about how much was riding on this. How much I was risking. But I pushed them aside. We'd figure it out. We had to. I wasn't ready to let this go, not yet. Not ever.