The void of Omicron Zeta was anything but empty. The system had long been contested by the Order and the Core, both factions vying for control over the unstable corridor between the Nomad-infested Edge Worlds and the deeper human colonies. Their strongholds—Capetown Station and Cairo Station—stood as symbols of defiance, fortified bastions against the encroaching darkness.
Tonight, both would fall.
From the shifting clouds of the Edge Nebula, the storm arrived.
A fleet of unnatural warforms emerged from the shadows—some corrupted human ships, their hulls warped by alien influence, others purely Nomadic in origin, glowing with eerie blue luminescence. They did not announce their arrival. They did not negotiate. They simply advanced.
At the tip of the spear, moving like a specter through the abyss, was a lone Valkyrie.
Verstorben-1.
It had once been a proud ship of Rheinland, piloted by a man with a name, a history. But that was long gone. Now, the ship and pilot were something else—something beyond human comprehension, an extension of the greater will that bound all Wild together. It did not need orders. It *knew* its purpose.
Tonight, Omicron Zeta would burn.
The Fall of Capetown Station
Capetown, the Core’s last line of defense in Omicron Zeta, stood defiant as alarms blared through its corridors. Officers barked orders, fighters scrambled from the hangars, and defensive batteries locked onto the approaching storm.
But it was too late.
The Wild struck with inhuman precision. Their corrupted vessels carved through Core patrols, their weapons bypassing shields as if they were nothing more than paper. Nomad warforms followed, their eerie blue energy beams tearing apart the defenders.
Core ships attempted to regroup, their disciplined formations holding for a brief moment—but only a moment. The battlefield was not theirs to control. It belonged to something older, something far more relentless.
Quote:"This is Capetown Command! We’re under heavy fire! Requesting immediate reinforc—"
The transmission was cut short as Verstorben-1 delivered the killing blow. The Valkyrie twisted through enemy fire, its energy lances finding their mark. Capetown’s command center erupted in a chain reaction, shattering the station from within. The survivors never had a chance.
The Core was finished. Their last bastion in Omicron Zeta was no more.
Cairo’s Desperate Evacuation
On the far side of the system, the Order’s Cairo Station had received the Core’s final transmissions. They had expected a border skirmish—what they got was an extinction event.
Cairo’s commanders knew they couldn’t hold. The best they could do was evacuate as many as possible.
Order rescue transports launched, racing to retrieve survivors from Capetown’s wreckage. Their holds filled with injured personnel, engineers, and civilians who had managed to escape the destruction. But escape was an illusion.
The Wild were waiting.
As the first transport broke away, it was caught mid-flight by a pulse of blue light. The ship shuddered as its hull warped and bent, its crew’s screams cut short as the vessel was reduced to drifting debris.
The Order’s escort fighters fought with everything they had. Missiles streaked through the void, cannons roared, shields flared under sustained fire. But they were outnumbered. Outmatched. Out of time.
Verstorben-1 hunted them down one by one.
A second transport tried to flee toward the asteroid field. The Wild were faster. The ship's engines were disabled, leaving it stranded, helpless. Through the fractured hull, terrified Order personnel could only watch as Nomad forms closed in.
There was no mercy.
There never had been.
Quote:"Run. Flee. It will not matter."
One by one, the Order's rescue ships fell.
Cairo Station itself was next. The final defenders rallied, their warships forming a desperate shield wall around the station. They knew what had happened to Capetown. They knew they were next.
When the Wild’s full force arrived, Cairo’s shields held for a few minutes—then collapsed under the sheer ferocity of the assault. The station’s superstructure crumbled, its defenses silenced, its crew consumed.
And with it, the last hope for Omicron Zeta.
The Void Claims All
As the dust settled, the Wild fleet drifted through the ruins of Omicron Zeta. The Order and Core had lost more than just outposts—they had lost control of the system. What survivors remained fled, their forces shattered, their power diminished.
Verstorben-1 hovered in the wreckage for a moment, its corrupted hull reflecting the glow of distant fires. The voices in the mindshare whispered in satisfaction. The will of the eternal had been carried out.
![[Image: N4fxtzR.png]](https://imgur.com/N4fxtzR.png)