Project Prometheus Ch. 76 - Teaser (Patreon)

“She’s healing?!” Matthias shouted, firing a fresh volley into her thorax. Bullets sparked off regenerating chitin plates, leaving only shallow dents where before they’d gouged deep wounds.

“Fall back! Spread!” Kasumi screamed, rocketing upward as a claw the size of a man scythed through where she’d stood. The queen lunged with terrifying speed, slamming into the ground with enough force to rattle teeth. Gloria was hurled backward, her rifle clattering across the floor.

“Mom!!” Matthias yelled as he skidded toward her, planting himself between her and the queen as he unleashed covering fire. The queen hissed, saliva sizzling as it struck stone. With sudden precision, she swung low, claws hammering against Matthias as he activated his shield projector Sparks flared as he staggered, knees buckling as he tried to stand his ground.

“Hold, dammit!” he growled, sweat streaking his face beneath his visor.

“You want us dead so badly? You’ll choke on this, bitch!!!” Shazza bellowed as she dropped into a kneeling stance. She stitched a furious line of rounds across the queen’s flank, ichor spraying again, but this time the wound closed almost as fast as it opened.

“Gods,” Geralt whispered, firing anyway. “It’s like shooting a storm.”

The queen shrieked, then abruptly shifted her assault. Her reflective eyes locked onto Geralt, the smallest and most vulnerable of them. She lunged, four arms scissoring forward.

“She’s targeting Geralt!” Kasumi shouted. Geralt backpedaled, rifle blazing, but each step was a fraction too slow. The queen’s claws gouged trenches into the floor just feet from him, her mandibles snapping in a wet, eager rhythm.

“Geralt, move!” Sohlaka’s voice cracked with panic as she sprinted, boots pounding stone. Her rifles barked in full-auto fury, sparks and ichor erupting from the queen’s side. “You’re not taking him!”

The queen swung, one colossal arm crashing down in an arc meant to bisect him. Geralt dove, hitting the ground shoulder-first, pain flaring as stone pushed against his armor. He cried out but rolled to his knees, rifle snapping up again out of sheer instinct. The blow missed him by inches, carving a crater into the rock. Shards of stone exploded outward, hammering into Matthias’ shields and battering Gloria as she staggered upright.

“Everyone regroup!” Alex roared, his axe spinning in his grip. He surged forward, slamming the blade into the queen’s arm with bone-rattling force. The edge bit deep, ichor gushing—only for the wound to bubble and seal beneath his eyes.

“Nothing sticks!” Natalya shouted, blades flashing as she carved at the creature’s knees. Her strikes drew ichor, but again the wounds sealed before she could land a second hit. “We’re bleeding her for nothing!”

The queen reared back, four arms spread wide, towering over them like a storm given flesh. Her roar shook the walls, the pitch clawing into their ears until Matthias cried out and dropped to a knee, clutching his helmet. Sohlaka planted herself squarely in the queen’s path, shielding Geralt with her massive frame. Her rifles hung uselessly at her sides, magazines drained from the onslaught. She raised her Thuun’tara blade instead, its edge gleaming hungrily.

“Over my dead body!” she bellowed, voice echoing through the chamber.

The queen hissed, mandibles dripping, limbs coiling to strike again. Geralt staggered to his feet behind her, blood on his brow, weapon trembling but still raised. She lunged, thinking to bat Sohlaka away as though she were nothing more than an annoyance. The scream died and the sound that came from the queen was almost… hesitant.

Sohlaka had met the queen’s sweeping strike with a block of her own and stood firm against the lazy attack. The queen then put some effort into forcing Sohlaka back, but the Khontaran woman didn’t budge. With a scream of pure defiance, Sohlaka pushed with all her might, sending the queen staggering backward, moving with unease as though she was drunk.

“Keep your claws off my husband!” Sohlaka roared, the sound raw enough to shake dust from the ceiling.

The queen reeled back, hiss cutting through the chamber. Her mandibles clicked in a stuttering rhythm like an insect chorus. She shifted her weight, circling Sohlaka now—not the easy prey, but the challenge in front of her. Sohlaka planted her boots wide, chest heaving. Her gauntlets flexed, servos whining.

“Come on,” she snarled under her breath. “Come on, you ugly thing.”