My Kaiju Parasite Revived Me, But a Yandere Bought My Streaming Rights Chapter 32: SSS Rescue?(1)

Freezing oxygen burned Caleb’s throat.

The air tasted entirely sterile, stripped of the rotting copper stench from the upper levels of the mountain. The squad stood motionless inside the unmapped obsidian corridor.

The crushing heat of the fleshy do lay trapped behind the shattered bone-wall they had just breached. Beneath Caleb’s surplus boots, the floor stretched out in a single sheet of smooth black glass.

Bare stone arched overhead, dry and devoid of the pulsing, bioluminescent veins infecting the rest of the rupture zone.

Caleb pressed his left hand hard against his neck. Thick, hot blood flooded between his taped fingers.

The serrated bone-blade had sheared through the thick canvas collar of his jacket, sinking deep into the muscle along his collarbone. The anomaly anchored behind his sternum thrashed, demanding massive calories to knit the severed tissue and seal the artery.

There were none.

The brutal fight had stripped his energy reserves down to nothing. The starvation scraped against his empty gut, pulling the heat directly from his extremities. He shivered violently in the cold air, fighting the gray static creeping into the edges of his vision.

Hiro swept the barrel of his rifle across the dark space. The teenager’s hands shook against the polyr stock.

"Zero thermal signatures," Hiro whispered over the local comms. "My optics are blind. The glass reflects the ambient temperature back at the sensors."

Iharu leaned his weight against his scatter-gun, dragging oxygen into his lungs in ragged gasps. The redhead favored his acid-burned leg, glaring down the pitch-black corridor.

"Keep moving," Iharu grunted. "Command maps extraction points at the tertiary junctions. We just need to find a stairwell."

"The deploynt map lacks this sector entirely," Kikaru stated.

She kept her custom plasma rifle tucked tight against her shoulder. Deep gouges scarred her white armor from the do skirmish. Her stance retained its strict academy alignnt, compensating for the uneven weight of her carbon-fiber leg brace.

"We are off the grid," Kikaru added. Her voice dropped lower, shedding its usual command volu.

A low hum resonated through the obsidian glass.

Caleb halted. He lowered his combat knife an inch.

The vibration ground against his teeth. It lacked the heavy organic thud of a Siege-breaker or the frantic clicking rhythm of a scavenger swarm. The frequency felt chanical. Artificial.

The shadows thirty yards ahead shifted.

A towering geotric shape detached itself from the tunnel wall. A cluster of obsidian shards orbited a central white core, lacking any standard biology, mandibles, or armor plating. The shards rotated in a silent, mathematical orbit, carving the freezing air with absolute precision. The core pulsed, casting a stark white light across the glass floor.

Humanity categorized threats based on claws and fangs. This entity defied classification. It belonged to the deep routes.

Kikaru raised her rifle. Her finger tightened on the trigger guard.

"Hold fire," Caleb ordered.

The shards accelerated their rotation. The white core flared.

The blue interface of Caleb’s visor vanished.

A localized comms jam crushed the squad link. A gold [SSS-AUTHORIZATION] icon bled into the center of his screen, wiping away the targeting trics and distance counters. The temperature in the tunnel plumted, freezing the sweat on Caleb’s neck.

A physical distortion rippled the air directly between the squad and the geotric threat.

The Handler stepped out of the empty space.

The black-ops operator wore sleek armor that absorbed the faint glow of the tunnel. Focusing entirely on the shifting entity, he ignored the bleeding recruits standing ten feet behind his shoulders.

The geotric threat launched a dozen shards forward. They tore through the air at supersonic speed.

The Handler raised a single hand. A phase-blade ignited.

The white light flared brighter than a plasma burst. The Handler moved, crossing the distance in a single step that defied human biochanics. He swung the blade once.

KRKK.

The weapon sheared straight through the glowing central core.

The shards froze in mid-air. Shattering into thousands of microscopic glass fragnts, they rained down onto the floorboards with a delicate chiming sound. The core dissolved into gray ash, drifting harmlessly over the black glass.

Deactivating the phase-blade, the Handler turned his helt slightly toward Caleb.

He tossed a silver extraction beacon onto the glass. It clattered against Caleb’s boot.

The operator tapped his earpiece. The air distorted. He vanished back into the phase-rift, leaving the tunnel completely empty.

Hiro stared at the pile of gray ash. "What was that?"

Deep underground, the bedrock fractured.

BOOM.

The catastrophic shockwave threw Caleb to his knees. Kinetic force vibrated straight up his spine. Miles away, the A and B rank strike forces had finally reached the central biological anchor, detonating their heavy artillery payloads directly inside the Nexus.

The mountain convulsed.

The smooth obsidian walls cracked. Massive fissures spider-webbed across the glass ceiling. Chunks of rock began tearing free from the canopy.

"Cover!" Kikaru scread.

Caleb threw his good arm over his helt. The ceiling caved in. Multi-ton slabs of rock and biological debris plumted into the corridor, shattering the floor upon impact. Dust plud upward in a blinding cloud, choking the remaining oxygen from the air.

The deafening roar of the collapse dragged on for ten brutal seconds. The floor tilted wildly beneath Caleb’s knees.

Light flooded the ruins.

Caleb coughed, spitting a mouthful of gray dust onto the shattered glass. The artillery strike had blown the entire roof off the subterranean tunnel. The cold stadium lighting of the staging base miles above mixed with the natural gray sky. The air current rushing into the trench cleared the thickest layers of the smoke.

The silver extraction beacon at his feet pulsed with a bright red strobe.

Heavy rotors thundered overhead.

Four automated lift-drones dropped through the massive breach in the mountain. The machines scanned the rubble, their navigation lights cutting through the settling dust to paint the survivors in alternating flashes of red and blue.

Caleb forced himself upright. He grabbed Kikaru’s harness, hauling her out from under a slanted slab of debris. Iharu leaned against a cracked pillar, waving his arms toward the sky to flag the descending drones.

A D-rank squad lay trapped under a crushed transit crate fifty yards down the ruined tunnel. One of the recruits scread, his standard-issue gray armor pinned beneath a massive chunk of vitrified bone. He reached his hand out toward the hovering machines.

The lead extraction drone hovered over the trapped squad. Its targeting laser swept the screaming recruit’s helt, processing the biotric tags and the public engagent trics.

The laser shifted. Bypassing the dying D-rank entirely, the drone banked hard and flew directly toward Caleb and Kikaru.

Two heavy steel cables shot down from the undercarriage. The magnetic clasps locked onto the reinforced rings on Caleb’s tactical harness. A second set clamped onto Kikaru’s chest plate.

"What are they doing?" Hiro yelled, watching the second drone lock onto Iharu and leave the D-rank squad buried in the dirt. "They need dical!"

The winch engaged.

Caleb was ripped off the ground. The cables hauled him violently into the air, the harness biting deep into his bruised ribs. The starvation inside his chest flared, grinding against the agonizing pressure of the lift. He gritted his teeth, gripping the steel cable with his taped hand to stabilize his ascent.

They broke through the shattered crust of the mountain.

The silence of the obsidian tunnel evaporated into a deafening wall of sound.

The gray sky was alive. Dozens of hovering dia barges circled the periter of the destroyed mountain. Blinding cara strobes flashed in a chaotic rhythm, fighting the daylight. Towering holograms projected corporate logos directly into the clouds. The A-Rank artillery strikes miles away continued to detonate, framing the military ordnance as golden corporate fireworks for the civilian networks.

Dangling from the extraction cables, bleeding and exhausted, the squad was hoisted like trophies into the neon-drenched sky.