The habitat was quiet, save for the occasional echo of drops hitting puddles and the crinkling of the barnacles on the walls. That churning, that sickly sound of movement and chattering. She knew it well from Luna. It still sent shivers up her spine. They were here, but they'd known that before now. They'd seen the growths on the outside of the habitat when they arrived, the bubbling fungal growths and flowing ribbons of filth.

She was careful to avoid the methane puddles. She didn't want them to know that she was snooping around down here. There'd already been a few exchanges of fire, but they hadn't swarmed up out of their nests to overrun the outpost. And that was terrifying. They clearly had the superior numbers and capabilities. They could sweep the outpost out like so much dust on a doorstep, but they hadn't. They allowed the Guardians to regroup and recover.

There had to be a reason for that. And it couldn't possibly be one that would make her sleep any better.

She gripped her cannon as she walked into a massive rotunda, deep beneath the waves. Sweeping panes of tempered quartz glass took the place of much of the wall. She could see out into the murky blackness of the churning sea. She felt small.

Lights flickered in the upper reaches of the rotunda. Old advertisements for cafes and clothing and anything an undersea settler could possibly want. She allowed herself a brief moment of wonder. All of her recon missions revealed more and more of just how vast the habitat was. She was now further from the outpost than she'd ever been, and she could see plenty of doorways on the far side. There was more.

She saw movement.

She flicked off the safety on her cannon and wheeled towards the left hand wall. There was nothing, at least nothing she could make out. No thrall, no knight running headlong at her with a cleaver in hand. She looked up, and there was nothing hovering above.

Step by step, she slowly stalked towards the left half of the rotunda. Either she was going mad, or she had seen something move. She was out of her depth, in a place she had almost no knowledge of. Far from help. On her own. Coming this far had been a mistake, she thought. She was going to die here.

And yet there was nothing. She couldn't find any threat, nothing that could move on its own. She wearily lowered her cannon. Maybe she was losing it after all.

Then she saw it.

Out there in the blackness, out in the sea. Outside of the window. She was deeper than she'd ever been before. And she knew they weren't alone with the Hive on the forsaken moon.

It was huge, bigger than any living thing she'd ever seen before. Bigger than any ship she'd seen before. It coiled and moved through the methane like silk through air. The creature defied reason. It went against every notion she had of big. She had felt small when she entered the rotunda. Now she felt insignificant. Her jaw slacked under her helm, the cannon slipped from her hand into a puddle. The splash echoed throughout the space.

She stared. And when it turned to face her, she wanted to scream. She couldn't. She could only watch.

The voice rang through her head as if she was standing next to the thrusters of fifty ships, as if a thousand launchers had fired next to hear ear. It was all-encompassing. It made her want to end it all.

The worm spoke.

Come to die, oh explorer mine?