The twenty Motherships closed in formation tight enough that from a distance they looked like a single moving wall, more than two thousand Spacecraft scattered between and around them in a cloud that blotted out a fair stretch of the starfield.
Kestor Vane commanded the formation from the lead ship, Legendary-rank Class and Talent both, the strongest spec anyone in this makeshift alliance actually had. It had been enough to make him the obvious choice to lead once word got around about what was hunting players near the Hive.
"Twenty ships. Two thousand Spacecraft between us." His voice carried across the shared channel to every other Mothership in the formation. "One player, no matter how strong, doesn’t survive this."
Logan watched them come, twenty Mythic-rank Spacecraft of his own arrayed around his Mothership in a loose formation, Billy and Solveig standing at the front of it.
"Everyone, go wild." Logan didn’t wait for the enemy formation to finish closing. "Billy. Solveig. You know what to do."
Billy didn’t need telling twice.
Form Switch!
Duskfall Leviathan’s full silhouette unfolded around him, and he tore into the nearest cluster of enemy Spacecraft before any of them registered he’d already covered half the distance between the two fleets.
Voidfall Cannon!
The beam swept in a wide arc rather than a single line, carving through six separate hulls in the same motion, none of their shields even registering the hit before the damage had already gone clean through.
Solveig’s own clones scattered out from him in every direction, greatswords already carrying Astralwind Fury’s added weight behind every swing.
Bloodfall Destruction!
A column of crimson light collapsed onto an entire cluster of enemy formation flying too tight together, and eight ships came apart in the same instant, debris scattering in every direction.
"What the fuck was that?!" Someone’s voice cracked across the shared channel, pure panic bleeding through every word. "That’s not possible! Eight ships, gone, just like that!"
The rest of Logan’s fleet poured into the gap Billy and Solveig had already torn open. One of Duskross’s own siblings from the later merges dragged three enemy ships together with a gravity pull of its own before detonating the whole cluster in a single strike. Another peeled off after a fleeing straggler and ran it down before it made it more than a few hundred meters.
A Mythic-rank Spacecraft on the enemy side actually tried to make a stand, weapons cycling up in a defensive stance that looked almost competent.
It didn’t matter. Two of Logan’s own converged on it from opposite angles, and whatever advantage Mythic rank was supposed to grant it evaporated the instant it became clear the two attacking it were built out of merges that had already devoured better things than this.
Logan didn’t stay back to direct traffic. Reaper’s Stride carried him straight into the thick of it, landing on the deck of the nearest enemy Mothership before its own crew had finished registering the first wave of destruction.
The player standing there barely got a weapon raised.
Overgrim Slash!
The strike caught him clean across the chest, and the surrender came half a second later, panic driving the word out before the man had even fully processed what had just happened to him.
Reaper’s Stride carried Logan again, this time to a second deck three hundred meters off, and the player there had at least seen him coming.
"Stay back!" The man’s voice cracked, some kind of spear leveled more out of instinct than any real threat. "I surrender! Please, I surrender!"
The word did its work before Logan even had to close the last of the distance, the man’s whole form dissolving out of the fight a breath later.
A third deck actually put up a fight, the player there wielding twin blades with something that looked like real training behind the movements, Legendary-rank gear glinting along the edges.
Logan met the first strike with Grimlord’s Blade, and for exactly one exchange it actually felt like a real fight.
Blade Veil Counter! Axiom Severance!
His own counter carried straight through the man’s guard like the twin blades weren’t even there, and the fight stopped being real again just as fast as it had started.
He kept moving. A fourth ship. A fifth. Each jump landed him somewhere new before the last one had even finished registering as a loss on anyone else’s display, Grim Lock ensuring he never had to guess where the next target actually stood.
"He’s on my ship! HE’S ON MY SHIP!" Someone else’s voice cracked through the shared channel, high and thin with real terror.
"Fall back! Everyone fall back, this was a mistake-"
"Fuck the plan, I’m out-"
"Twenty of us! There’s twenty of us and one of him, how is this happening-"
Kestor Vane watched his own carefully assembled coalition come apart in real time, half his ships already gone, the other half scattering in directions that had nothing to do with any actual strategy anymore.
’This isn’t right. Twenty ships. Two thousand units. This wasn’t supposed to go like this.’
Reaper’s Stride carried Logan onto Vane’s own deck a moment later, and for the first time all fight, someone actually stood their ground instead of flinching back.
"Legendary-rank Talent. Legendary-rank Class." Vane’s own staff came up, some kind of storm gathering visibly at its tip. "I’m not just going to fold like the rest of them."
Storm Reaver’s Wrath!
Lightning tore free of the staff in a wide arc, and Logan met it with Blade Veil Counter instead of trying to dodge the whole spread.
The veil caught it clean, and the counter’s damage boost carried straight into the follow-through.
Overgrim Slash!
The strike closed the distance in the same motion, and Vane’s own HP dropped hard enough that he never got the chance to raise the staff a second time.
’I HAVE FREAKING TWO MYTHIC-RANK GEAR PIECES!’
Blood poured out of his lips and chest as one slash, ignoring the obstacle of his own attack, struck him and almost killed him!
He didn’t try to fight past that point. Whatever pride had kept him standing his ground evaporated the second he realised exactly how outmatched he actually was.
’Surrender.’
By the time the last enemy signature blinked out, the space between where the two fleets had met was littered with drifting debris, twenty Motherships reduced to scattered wreckage in less time than the coalition had probably spent organizing the attack in the first place.
```
[ 20x Player eliminated. ]
[ Total Tower Points earned: 1370]
```
Logan stood in the wreckage, breathing steady, barely winded despite everything that had just happened.
Billy reformed nearby, Motes drifting lazily back into position. "Well, that settles that. Gang’s officially disbanded."
Solveig’s own clones folded back into him one by one. "Hardly worth calling a fight, my lord."
"More players will come." Synthia looked at the space.
Logan managed a grin, looking out at the Hive still waiting patiently in the distance. "Yeah. Now let’s go to the other side of the Hive and clean up there. I want at least 100 eliminations of players."
Without further ado, Logan went to the other side of the Hive through the portal.
And what he saw delighted him!
Some motherships were fighting each other already. Some had formed small groups and were heading into the Hive, ignoring the conflicts, and just wanting score and loot from diving into the Hive.
Logan quickly counted a total of 87 motherships scattered across.
"Alright, let’s start eliminating them quickly. First, we’ll eliminate those heading into the Hive."
’The battle will be taxing. I’d better make Grim Siphoning Edge reach level 10 as well.’
Without further ado, he added nine points into it, bringing it up to Level 10.
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