Chapter 4

As I burst through the pod, the metallic clang reverberates through the airlock, echoing my urgency. The pod's hatch hisses open, revealing the vast expanse of space before me. My scanners immediately engage, sweeping the void for any sign of hostile presence. The holes we punched through the enemy ship seal up with a shimmering energy, courtesy of the ship's emergency shields, saving us from the unforgiving vacuum of the Erebus, that eternal abyss that swallows careless souls without mercy.

This ship is old but it is not weary, its alarms blaring with an urgency that matches the tempo of our racing hearts. With every blare, adrenaline courses through our veins, urging us into swift action. We navigate the corridors with practiced precision, the layout of the prison already etched into our minds.

The sterile white corridors stretch endlessly, harsh fluorescent lights casting stark shadows against the walls. Heavy security doors line the passageways, creating a labyrinth designed to confound and control. The air is thick with the taste of recycled oxygen.

We move with the stealth of shadows, our presence barely perceptible amidst the chaos that surrounds us. Above, the bursts of sobs reverberate through the ship's hull, accompanied by unsettling sounds that chill the marrow in our bones—a primal roar, a bestial snarl, and the eerie flapping of wings. Amidst the cacophony, disjointed words filter through, spoken in a guttural tongue that sends shivers down our spines.

Fast-like, we made our way to our destination. Before us stands a 200-foot door of solid steel, a keypad adjacent. Without hesitation, I step forward and input the access codes.

A blood-curdling scream pierces the air, filling the corridor with its malice. Even from our vantage point, we can hear the heavy footfalls of the galaxy's most feared jailer.

'Shit.' My hands shake like they used to in the caverns. Now, as then, serpents surround me.

You could never hear them, the Kouretes. And rarely could you see them. Red as deoxygenated blood, they slithered in the shadows till they strike. But there's a fear that comes when they near. A fear that separates you from the animal in your mind. You could feel it, a calm fear that sharpened your senses, a fear that made every twitch of your muscles a step away from murder. It's fearing the coming of death. Like a shadow has passed across your soul, leaving nothing but ice.

That fear fills me now.

"100 feet, she's getting closer!" one of the men shouts, urgency coloring his voice.

With every agonizing second, the massive door inches downward, its ancient mechanisms groaning and protesting as if resisting our advance.

"80 feet," another voice counts down, the tension thick in the air.

Gears that haven't been moved for centuries grind with an ear-splitting shriek.

"50 feet," 

As the door slides down to a perilous height, I leap forward, my heart pounding in my chest as I clear the threshold along with my companions.

"30 feet," the final warning rings out, urging us to move with haste.

With a surge of adrenaline, I slam my hand against the keypad, forcing the door to begin its ascent once more. Behind us, the screams of our pursuers mingle with the anguished cries of others sounded, before being cut off completely by the door. In an instant four men dead.

"Mother's mercy," I mutter under my breath, the weight of the moment settling in as we sprint through the expansive metallic hall, its end looming just 300 feet away.

Beneath us lies a gaping ravine, its depths plunging endlessly, bisecting the ship's artificial landscape. Without hesitation, we leap, relying on the shock-absorbing capabilities of our Juggernaut suits to soften the impact.

"Spread out," I signal to my team, the urgency evident in my movements. Instantly, we divide into pairs, each duo branching off into four different directions.

We search tirelessly, minutes stretching into what feels like hours as we navigate the corridors and shadowy recesses of the ship. The only respite from the tension is the distant hum of machinery and the occasional echo of our own hurried footsteps. In between we hear the sound of the jailer already with us.

Far over I hear the war-cry screams of the forever dead. I and the other redskin who followed me, made our way to the noise. 

We bounded over ridges and deep chasms, deftly dodging wires that emitted electric screams. The deeper we go, the fewer the lights, the stranger the architecture, deep cuts line the walls as graffiti I catch glimpses of what could only be described as monsters, biological and mechanical abominations cross our paths, some ready as though to attack, but we sweep by them with little to no consideration.

My hearts beats deep and loud within my chest, each pump like a physical strike, nerve endings shivering in my chest, neck tight just under the jaw. 

The sight was truly horrifying. 

She bore a faint resemblance to centaurs, with a form that was half-humanoid and half-animal, but the similarities ended there. Her skin resembled tough, brown, leathery hide. Below her waist, she resembled a dragon, complete with formidable wings that conjured gusts of wind when she flapped them. Snakes of various sizes writhed on her head, her face a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and metallic protrusions. Her waist was a mass of monstrous heads, each more sinister than the last. At the end of her tail, a scorpion's stinger dripped with corrosive poison, and she wielded a glowing whip in her hand that scorched all it touched.

Beneath her lies the corpse of one dead man. The other still fights though he will not last long.

'Khaos take me.' Zeus thought, 'I knew she was terrifying, but this is a whole other level.'

The whip cracks and wraps itself around the redskin's arm. The armor snaps and crackles, sparks fly out as the metal heats instantly on contact. She snags the redskin by the collar, pulls him high above herself, grabs his legs with her other arm and twists.

A sick popping noise could be heard from within as the redskin screamed in agony.

We fly across the space beneath us and slam into her, our boots crack concrete beneath us.

She lets go of the redskin, almost instantly, Kampe whirled around, staring at him in disbelief at his apparent audacity. Around her the others come, drawn in by the noise. We surround her.

"Kampe. I am Zeus, son of Kronos-," he began.

"Ahh, the son of Kronos. I've heard of the vile trickery you wrought upon Lord of the Cosmos." she interrupted.

"When I gift him your head," she proclaimed, her voice filled with confidence, "he will see that I, above all his subjects, have served him the most faithfully and will have no choice but to reward me with the highest possible position—as his consort."

Kampe surged forward, a force of nature unleashed.

She carves through a redskin as if he were made of pastry. His scream brings us to action, bolts of hot plasma erupt in retaliation. Kampe pivots swiftly on her feet, astonishingly agile for a creature of her size.

There are two strategies when fighting multiple opponents, one, use them against each other, but the redskins are of one mind when it comes to fighting, it comes down to their training, they are wolves not tigers, meant to fight together and I am adaptable. So she chooses the second option, an all out attack on me before the others can react. I am her greatest threat. A son of Kronos, she knows, will not be weak.

Her fiery whip cracks towards me, faster than I can think. So I don't think. I react. Bio-engineered muscles flinch back faster than a hummingbirds wings, even at that I almost end up loosing an eye. She presses forward, hoping to throw me of balance, but I am no green boy, to fall at the sign of danger. I right myself, my fists ready to shatter augmented bones. She's on me, stinger flared and stabbing at me with a mad frenzy. She is fast, but there is no art to her form, her movements are too natural, wild and uncaring from a lifetime of strength.

With a swift leap backward, I deny Kampe the satisfaction of a quick victory, disrupting her plans and buying myself precious moments to assess the situation. As I retreat, the other four assailants seize the opportunity to take their chance, charging in with a fervor fueled by their desire to bring down the feared daemon.

"For mother Rhea!" They bellow. Metal fists primed.

But in their eagerness, one of them overextends himself, the natural reckless abandon of his kind, although would have proved useful in any other situation is proving to be his undoing. Quick-like, she wraps her scorcher round his arm like the first one. He draws back, afraid of what would come next, but he's not fast enough. 

Her arm extends, claws gleam like shards of obsidian in the dim light of the battlefield. With a ferocity unmatched by any natural predator, her razor-sharp claws tear through the surface of his suit as if it were mere paper, piercing through with a chilling ease.

In-between a man and the juggernaut suit, is an additional layer of armor, more skinsuit than armor, it functioned to absorb any kinetic energy headed its way. There were only two ways of getting through, first was, you wait till it runs out of power, second, was hitting it with enough power to overload it. 

Kampe chose the latter. Her claws slam with enough force to break reinforced titanium. The impact reverberates through the battlefield like a thunderclap, sending sparks flying from within the suit as the kinetic energy is violently dispersed. The man jolts, shocked from the feel of foreign matter in his chest.

But Kampe is undeterred by the resistance. With a relentless ferocity that borders on madness, she presses forward, her claws carving through the fused bone cage with an almost effortless ease. And then, with a sickening crunch, it gives way, succumbing to her relentless claws. Blood blossoms forth like a dark, crimson flower.

The body sloughs off her arm, leaving behind a gruesome smear of thick, dark red in its wake.

With a serpentine grace, her tongue slithers from between her lips, eagerly lapping up the spilled blood from her claws. There is a primal satisfaction in the taste of victory, a savage ecstasy that flashes across her eyes like wildfire.

All this happens within a couple seconds.

'Shit shit shit.' I think. No more is she a creature of flesh and bone. In that moment, she was a force of nature, unstoppable and inevitable. And woe betide any who stood in her way.

"Fall back!" I bellow to the others. 

With a collective sense of dread, we turn and flee, our once-proud juggernaut suits made to run towards enemy lines, now run away.

Behind us, a thunderous screech rends the air, sending shivers down our spines as we realize that Kampe is hot on our heels. Like a fly caught in a spider's web, there is no escape from her relentless pursuit.

"Do not run from me little god." She laughs, "I promise to make it quick."

We bound over slopes and rocky terrain, the landscape shifting beneath our feet in a confusing blur of metal and rock. Each step augmented by the suit, shoots us further, our hearts pounding in our chests as leg hamstrings tug in our bid to outpace the other.

A gut-wrenching scream pierces the air to my left, sending a chill down my spine. Without needing to look, I know a man is dead. 

Something pulls on my leg, I do not fall so much as I crash, my chest feels as though its going to cave in on itself. Pain explodes in my chest, threatening to overwhelm me, but instinct takes over in an instant.

With lightning speed, I twist, my left arm pulsating with the raw power of fusion energy. A blast of searing starlight erupts forth, slicing through the air with deadly precision. She dodges as she sprints towards me, her whip wraps around my arm, melting iron within seconds. Hot needles pierce my arm and I scream to high heaven.

My leg reacts for me, flight-or-fight instinct kicks in an it lashes out. It connects with Kampe's midsection with a sickening thud, sending her reeling back with a pained grunt. She blanches back, the whip follows her. One of the head on her waist dies, its face caved in from the strike. Yet, even as one of the heads on her waist is left mangled from the strike, she grins, madness dancing in her goatish eyes.

As the remaining two redskins rush to my aid, their movements swift and coordinated, Kampe lurches forward with a predatory grace, her fiery whip crackling with searing heat like the lash of a vengeful god. They dodge its deadly lick with practiced skill, but it becomes evident too late that it was merely a feint, a distraction to mask the true danger that lurks.

With a sudden, almost casual flick of her tail, Kampe strikes like a viper, her stinger piercing through the defenses of one of the redskins with horrifying ease. The air is rent with a pained cry as the corrosive venom courses through his veins, bringing him to his knees with a final, agonized gasp. In an instant, he is still, his life snuffed out in an instant.

With a surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins, I spring to my feet from where I sit on the ground. There is no escaping Kampe's wrath on her own ship; our only recourse is to face her head-on in battle.

"We have to disarm her!" I yell. That weapon of hers is a death sentence for us both, just as it was for those who fell before us.

We rush forward as one. I roar in anger and jump high enough to cast a shadow. My right fist primed for a devastating blow.

Kampe reacts with lightning speed, her arm poised to strike with deadly precision. But the redskin at my side is quicker still, his movements fluid and calculated as he slides underneath and around her front legs. In one swift motion, he seizes hold of her forearm, slinging it over his shoulder and with a strength born of desperation, he yanks it down.

A resounding crack, like thunder in the air.

Bone peeks out of flesh, like a twisted branch breaking through rock. My punch lands with a resounding impact, driving Kampe back with a pained howl that echoes through the air like a war cry. The scorcher falls from her grasp, clattering to the ground with a metallic clang.

With her tail she smacks the man away from her, not even trying to kill, just trying to put some distance.

She cradles her arm, spitting harshly at us through a cracked jaw. I rush forward and take hold of the whip myself. Its presence neat me is blistering, I would say unbelievingly so, but I've already tasted its kiss.

"You will die for this," she hisses in rage, her words dripping with venom and hatred.

We pay no heed to her threats, as we circle her like vultures closing in on their prey. 

"There's nowhere in the galaxy you can run," Kampe shouts, "Lord Kronos has his eyes everywhere. Do you hear me? NOWHERE!"

I aim to strike, my muscles coiled like a spring ready to be unleashed. But it's a feint, a distraction to mask the true intent of our attack.

From behind the redskin sprinted toward Kampe, crashing into her with the force of a hammer. She staggers, almost regaining her balance, but before she can recover, he delivers a second push that sends her toppling over in a great heap of monstrous limbs and heads. She whirled around in a futile attempt to rise, screaming and cursing in her anger.

But I've had enough. I fly through the air, drunk on the victory I can smell. The whip slashes forward, she tries to dodge, but it catches her in the shoulder.

Kampe screams in agony, her monstrous form recoiling in pain as she staggers backward, her movements unsteady and erratic.

"Your going to die." The redskin taunts, dancing around her.

"SHUT UP!"

I strike again, this time at her head, she raise her good arm to block it and it wraps around her. The smell of burning flesh was heavy in the room.

I yank at the weapon, it carves through her flesh like hot knife through butter. The hand flops to the ground beside her. She stares as though wondering if it belonged to her.

Approaching her cautiously, I ready myself to deliver the final blow. But in a desperate last-ditch effort, Kampe swings the point of her tail at me with a savage fury. With lightning reflexes, I flick backward, coiling my hand before propelling it with all my divine might straight into her head.

And with one powerful swing, I lop off her head in a single, decisive motion and Kampe's lifeless body crumples to the ground.