The dropship's descent was like a thunderclap torn open across the sky.
Its hull split the clouds, dragging trails of fire in its wake as it pierced Gaeth-9's upper atmosphere, shedding ablative plating like dead skin. The forest trembled beneath its arrival—trees buckling, animals scattering, the air thick with ozone and scorched metal.
Kiro crouched behind the moss-choked remains of a war monument, its stone worn smooth by time and acid rain. His breath was steady. Focused.
The Blood God System pulsed within him—not a program, not a machine, but a living force. A core, now awakened. It didn't show numbers or levels. It wasn't designed to track progress.
It evolved. And it waited for blood to shape its next form.
A cold voice whispered from within:
"Slaughter the fangs of tyranny. Their essence will feed the forge."
The strike team emerged like wolves—six armored figures clad in blackened alloy, symbols of the Kruger Division burned into their pauldrons. Their armor was sleeker than standard Kargal gear—lighter, older, layered with reactive plating and wrapped in crimson mesh.
These weren't ordinary soldiers. They were Viora-users—warriors who had trained their bodies to channel an ancient energy that predated the Empire's technology. Viora was not tech. It was will made flame. Flesh made weapon.
Kiro felt the pressure before they even moved. A low hum in the marrow of his bones.
One stepped forward, scanning the area with a hovering orb. Thin beams of red light danced through the underbrush.
"Heat trace," the leader said. "Northwest sector. One entity. Stationary."
Another nodded. "Could be the target. No known ID matches. Proceed with Viora protocol—contain, assess, eliminate."
Their boots whispered across the moss.
Kiro moved.
Not with hesitation. Not with fear. But with a predator's certainty.
Blood Venom pulsed in his grip.
The weapon was not metal. Not entirely. Its edge shimmered like liquid shadow, its veins filled with crimson light. It was alive, and it hungered.
The first strike was silent. The blade slipped through the gap at the base of a helmet—where armor met breath. Blood hissed on contact, corroded from within. The soldier dropped without a sound.
"Code Scarlet!" another barked. "Unknown hostile—Viora resistance confirmed!"
They responded with discipline—Viora ignited across their limbs, veins glowing with molten light. One charged, his blade crackling with compressed kinetic energy.
Kiro parried. The clash rang like thunder in a storm. His body shook—but didn't yield.
The System stirred.
Core Reaction: Harmonic Resonance achieved.
Core Stability: 41%Evolution Path: Hemosteel AscendantNew Trait Awakened: Crimson Tether
He ducked low, slashed up, and tore through the soldier's thigh. Blood Venom drank deep. With each cut, the core inside him surged—like a furnace fed with meat and memory.
Another came, fists wrapped in glowing Viora gauntlets. He moved like a phantom—fast, efficient. But Kiro had already seen death too many times to flinch.
He let Blood Venom guide him. Let the System react to instincts his mind didn't fully understand. The blade feinted left, twisted right, then pierced straight through the soldier's ribs.
The man gasped, light leaving his eyes, and collapsed.
The other three hesitated. One fell back, his aura flaring. "This isn't a slave."
"No," the leader growled. "It's something worse."
Their auras intensified—full-body bursts of Viora. The trees bent. The air thickened. They were trained to fight Apostles. This wasn't the first time the Kruger Division had hunted the divine.
But it would be the last time they underestimated one.
Kiro surged forward. He didn't dodge. He didn't block. He met their fury with his own.
Crimson light met golden flame. Steel screamed. Bones shattered.
The Blood God System howled its approval.
Later, when the forest had grown still and the corpses smoked where they fell, Kiro stood among the dead, his bare chest heaving, eyes burning red.
His core thrummed. A slow evolution. A heartbeat older than the stars.
"Feed. Forge. Ascend."
And in that moment, beneath a blood-haloed sky, Kiro knew—
This wasn't survival anymore.
It was war.