H’ythu and Ka’th arrived at the wreckage of the Daskalos in one piece. They had not encountered any of the hostile lifeforms the Junovians mentioned along the way, thank the stars. H’ythu considered their good fortune to be a sign from the universe that they were on the right path, that this was the right thing to do. They had learned from their early days in the System Collective to always take the good with the bad, and there certainly has been a lot of bad lately.

The Katabasis was hardly a ship, and Prisma’s knowledge of shipware was limited at best. If the Calamity left it alone, then it must not have been in the best condition, she realized. The interior was dusty, it must have been sitting in this shipyard for a long time. The upholstery off the pilot’s chair was torn asunder, and the stuffing was falling out in three or four places.

Kaitlyn woke in the stasis pod with a terrible headache. As the fluid started to drain, she could feel the effect of gravity starting to take its toll on her body. She was weightlessi in there, and now that she was out she could feel her entire body again. All the aches and pains, all the bruises and scars, everything. She groaned.

Prisma, Weaver, H’ythu, Morgan, and Ka’th stood over the remains of the Junovian Hunter, regarding the bloody mess that it had become when Prisma hacked and slashed at it. The creature was once a Junovian, and Prisma had taken a life, a life that belonged to someone of her own species. No, not Junovian. Something else entirely. Prisma reminded herself, steeling her nerves as best she could.

Addison Solanova turned over in her cot, facing the wall where she made scratches to mark the time. It was a new day, and so she made another notch next to the others, this one diagonally across a row of four. Her golden eyes fell on the door to her chambers, vying for egress. The System Collective only let her see the outside once every few days, and she was long overdue.

Kaitlyn landed the Elysium where she’d seen Aphio’s starskipper crash. She left the controls once they were on the ground, passing by Bonechill on the way to the landing bay, where she activated the landing gear manually and waited for the door to open. Bonechill walked silently behind her, perhaps sensing that she needed the company, perhaps he was intent to kill her after she had finished dealing with Aphio.

Prisma arrived at the shipyard, where several starskippers waited for her. They weren’t in space-faring condition, Prisma speculated, given the fact that they were still here. The Calamity likely would have taken them if they were of any real use. What they most likely did was strip these starskippers of any useful parts they had in order to repair the ships they already had.

“Tell me about your friend, if you would,” H’ythu asked as the trio continued their trek toward the biodome. The Junovian group they’d run into hours before said that there was something going on here, a Junovian with an infra-blade and a small, unknown lifeform battling a leviathan. For the first time since they met, H’ythu saw Weaver’s face light up.

The Artifice faded from Kailtyn’s eyes as she relinquished the power from her body. The Reaper was back on his ship, although, it wasn’t really his ship anymore, was it? She had tinkered with it, been inside of its walls and explored all the regions of its shell, its components, its weapons. She alone had fixed the anti-matter reactor in the ship’s core, restoring it to its fullest potential.

Bonechill floated in the infinite sea of nothing, his time spent staring out into the abyss, trying to goad it into staring back. This was the second time he’d been back here in the last couple of days. Back when he had skin, back before the title of the Reaper stuck to him like an adhesive, he spent much less time in the Void.

H’ythu stayed vigilant as darkness crept over them. The fire illuminated their immediate surroundings, but the oppressive darkness didn’t leave much for H’ythu to see. It was quiet, serene almost, if they weren’t in the Badlands that is. It was as if the very landscape was biding its time, waiting to swallow the three of them whole. They watched with bated breath as Ka’th’s chest moved up and down.

Prisma walked through the desolation that had befallen her home. She looked at the buildings, still standing but without their allure and grandeur they once had. No, instead they were depressing displays of what used to be there; a thriving Junovian society. The Webline was broken, its Linerunners walking around aimlessly without conductors to guide them. She cried at the sight, and Morgan put one of their palms on her leg, offering support.

The Elysium entered the stratosphere when part of its hull broke off. The impact from the dreadnaught's laser bolt created a gaping wound in the ship. It cried in pain as their momentum increased, its metal skin quivering under the heat. Still, despite the pain and agony, the Elysium endured. It kept its occupants safe while they figured out a way to survive the upcoming crash.