-Matthew Reaper’s P.O.V.-

“You have got to be kidding me…” A long breath left my lips as I stared off the edge of the rocky plateau. Beside me, eighteen Determinators, more lithe than their former designs but no less durable, each shifted on their feet and glanced to one another, communicating wordlessly. I could feel their own exasperation as clearly as mine.

A ping resounded from a pair of them, a sharp clear tone that echoed through the underground space easily, reflected off of stone with differing returns. In moments, we had an idea of how deep the hole was.

“One kilometer… great.” I sighed, “That’s just… Fucking wonderful.”

One of the Determinators next to me let out a cheerful burst of noise and held up a hand, thumbs up.

“Yeah, I guess.” I sighed, “It is better than an underwater cave, at least.”

Several Determinators rattled off beeps of agreement before they stepped up to the edge fully. My mind communicated with the many groups of Determinators, each attacking the cave from a separate angle. Some continued to bore through solid stone, intent on ensuring that there were no escape tunnels for this creature this time. Others, like my own team, had the unenviable task of deploying down into the many stack tunnels that the biotic and its brood had carved.

Behind me, I felt the monitoring team keeping tabs on the other biotics in the area, feeding us real time data on their approximate location. As much as I had faith in Yaga’s technology, we still left no stone unturned. My group of Determinators had three scout-variants for that very purpose, and thus far nothing had managed to fool their sensors.

I redirected my attention back to the task at hand with a sense of detachment that I’d come to know quite well. As one we stepped off of the edge, the image of the chasm we were falling into overlaying on our vision. I felt the rush in my veins, my heart pulse with the adrenaline that still managed to flush my system, the freefall feeling in my stomach. Solid granite walls rushed past my sight as gravity took hold, my dense power armor giving me more than enough peace of mind that I’d survive any given impact. Idly, I noted that I’d survive falling from most heights, given that my entire body was made of much sterner stuff than mere flesh and blood.

With practiced precision, the Determinators and I waited until we were about thirty meters from the ground before we let off a burst from our onboard jetpacks, flares of red lighting the gloom beneath us. There I noted the hundreds of husks, fragments of stone enameled in a stronger-than-steel coating that our quarry utilized in their exoskeletons. These creatures were reminiscent of the Salt Beetles from so long ago.

We landed on the shells, the more brittle of them shattering and crunching beneath heavy treads. An old mandible snapped beneath my own feet, but none of us paid our carpet any special attention beyond ensuring that there were no trapdoors beneath us. Scanners swept out, mag-rifles moving with them, in search of any hostiles.

The drop opened up to a smaller cavern, one that burrowed through solid rock in three directions. I actively updated our information, sending the new results to the other teams even as the bore team adjusted their own trajectories. Even in the absolute darkness, our senses were as clear as day, illuminated by infrared and enhanced sonar that could pick up movement in the environment.

Almost derisively, the scouts pointed out the false wall farther down, and registered subtle lifesigns on the other side. I turned my own mag rifle up, a weapon that had been refined exactingly to my specifications, and sighted my shot. The Determinators did the same with their own rifles, switching their weapons to piercing shots. A dull hum resounded from all of our held guns for a second before they went abruptly quiet. Then we fired, a cacophony of raucous sound that filled the underworld with hateful noise. Solid bolts of metal tore through the false wall as easily as a hot knife through butter, and the cracking, exploding noises of biotic chitin resounded in short order.

Shambles of the wall fell away, fragmented to dust and pieces that would have bit through bare flesh. What we hadn’t destroyed with gunfire was quickly reduced to rubble by the charging insectoid creatures, scything vertical mandibles with scrabbling, blocky legs that could have taken a tank shell with nary a scratch in the old world.

They’d been a menace in the area for months, recently worsening with the advent of their new warrior caste. Durable beyond the means of the locals to destroy, the mountain city had finally relented and requested assistance. Just as well, considering I wasn’t going to wait forever.

Now dozens of said biotics lay splintered and dead, or dying, on the ground with silvery metallic blood oozing from their wounds. Their dead were pushed onwards or out of the way, used either as a stepping stone or meat shield as they had learned, a proven tactic that the Scatha Beetles had employed against the previous inhabitants of the area.

Against us, however, such a move was ineffective. We overlapped our fields of fire, joining on targets for a moment at a time, rending them limb from limb. As cruel as it was, we didn’t bother going for kill shots, disabling them enough that the biotic was reduced to scrambling and scrabbling to move forward would inhibit their fellows more than an unmoving body would.

In seconds a line of bodies had formed, an ambush turned on its head. The biotics slowed momentarily, as though considering the scene before them. I frowned at the sight, one all too familiar in recent days.

Mentally, I sent the order to five of the heavy troopers to deploy heavy ordnance. Nearly instantly they did so, sending shrieking bolts of plasma into their midst, hitting their retreat paths and the center of the formation. The first volley crackled violently, white-hot flames exploding outwards and nearly vaporizing the immediate biotics around them. Stone cracked from the sudden rise in temperature, and all at once the Scatha resumed their attack, surging forward with a sort of resolute march.

That, too, resulted in their doom. Spearing bolts of metal tore through their flesh, cracked plates of armor, and dismantled the biotics in moments with surgical accuracy. In just seconds the attack was over, dozens of bodies lay before us joined only by the staccato rhythm of our weapons as we swept back over the disabled to end them completely.

To anyone who witnessed us, I’d imagine that it must have felt somehow cruel to the biotics. That they stood no chance whatsoever against us was a matter of course after how much practice we had. The Legion in general had improved, but the Determinators were now my weapon of choice, as much an extension of myself as my own arm or leg. It worked out better that way.

“Alright, let's do a sweep and keep moving.” I spoke aloud, more for my benefit than the Determinators. They let out varying sounds of affirmation, the scouts especially ensuring that there were no surprises amidst the wreckage that we’d wrought. I stared upon the scene, now relaying the fourth tunnel to the rest of the groups - we’d need to be sure that every wall was checked now - and be wary of any ambushes.

I couldn’t keep the consternation from my face as I regarded the trap we’d just cleared, yet another question unanswered from several others these days. Biotics had become more intelligent, acting together, using tactics and strategy, even going so far as to attack simultaneously in disparate regions. We had difficulty finding any kind of connection between them beyond their behavior, but I was certain this wasn’t just a random event.

The scouts reported the all clear once more, and quickly we mobilized once more. Another team would come in behind us to collect any biotic parts that didn’t dematerialize, some could even be suspended. Yaga would appreciate more research specimens, at the least, but that wasn’t my primary concern.

We chose to go through the new tunnel. The others could be secured by the future teams combing the underground. Even in the darkness, I had to admire some of the work the biotics could do, a nearly straight tunnel that bent every ten meters, giving a small antechamber that a large defense force could occupy. Given how many of the Scatha we’d slain in the past few days, there weren’t many left. I’d even go so far to say that the ambush we’d run into had been fairly scant on biotics.

We pushed onwards through the hewn tunnel, noticing immediately as it began to appear more carefully carved. I smiled at the sight, knowing that the central nests for the insectoid types tended to be much more ornate than the outer portions. Steadily, shapes began to emerge, hexagonal cuts that gave an almost unreal atmosphere to the underground world we explored. Several times the scouts stopped the line in order to check for traps, twice exposing false walls that were then quickly destroyed along with the small contingent behind it.

In minutes we moved through the tunnels, all of our senses maximized to the absolute limit. Only when we heard the sound of smashing rock did we pause.

Carefully we moved forward, the scouts having confirmed that no dead-falls had been constructed in the tunnel we used. Once before we’d nearly been buried under tons of rock, escaping by the thinnest of margins, and none of the Determinators wanted to repeat that incident. We inched forward, the sound growing louder, seemingly more desperate, interspersed only by the angry clacking of a large biotic.

At the mouth of the tunnel, I was treated to the source of the sound. A large, dump-truck sized beetle, slammed at the far end of a large cavern. A pile of rubble lay behind it, even as large slabs joined it. I blinked at the scene, trying to take in what was happening.

Several beetles joined it at the wall, only it seemed as though it hadn’t always been a wall. Still setting stone was easily moved by the biotics, who in their frenzy continually dug forward, hardened mandibles shearing through. They’d made meters of progress, but not enough for an escape.

I had many questions, but they would have to wait. As quietly as we could, we crept out in a wide arc on the far side of the cavern. Additional weapons emerged from the Determinators and I, shoulder-mounted, back-mounted apparati that more than tripled our firepower.

All at once we opened fire, piercing rifle shots tearing through the common Scatha Beetles in waves. At the same time, those of us with lance weaponry and explosives shelled the Queen. We attempted to avoid shooting at the bundle of cores attached to its back, knowing that they would be valuable beyond compare for humanity in general, but that would only last for as long as we had control of the situation.

The Queen turned, agony racing through it as two of its ten legs exploded. Quarter-meter wide holes tore through its abdomen, and before it could so much as fully face us, its head seemed to vanish under our combined strikes. A second volley followed nearly instantly, and this time there was nothing left alive.

I blinked at the sight, “Huh, okay, so they don’t always have ridiculous regeneration.” I shrugged, glad to finally deal with a biotic that wasn’t ridiculously hard to kill.

At least, until the body started to twitch, silvery, bulbous flesh beginning to expand. Almost as one we ran towards the thing, blades, sycthing tools, and all manner of butchery equipment extending from the Determinators or myself even as we grumbled annoyance as a whole. I could even just barely tell some of them were joking that I’d jinxed it.

We cauterized flesh and tore through it repeatedly, going through the motions for nearly a minute before it finally gave up and truly died. Just to be sure, though, we removed all of the Hive Cores from its body and began to pack them into canisters.

While they finished up with that task, I approached the collapsed tunnel, inspecting it more closely. It appeared to have been very fresh, but also purposeful. I couldn’t fathom how it would have caved in, unless it had been an accident.

I paused mid-inspection, looking up at the roof of the tunnel, the specific way it was constructed to collapse. To be sure, I began to sift through the rubble, joined by the other Determinators as they completed their tasks. Elsewhere in the cavern systems, other Determinators encountered wayward queens, each dispatching them with clean efficiency.

And each one encountering a collapsed tunnel.

“This isn’t accidental at all,” I murmured, “It was purposeful. But why when they haven’t escaped?”

No answer was forthcoming yet, but as we continued digging, I began to see a pattern in the collapse. It was utterly complete, carefully constructed to prevent any reasonable passage… or pursuit.

I grit my teeth as I remembered the only other time I’d found this type of tunnel. Back in Argedwall, the only biotic that had ever evaded me, the creator of the Centaur biotic.

“We need to get back to HQ. Alert every organization in the area that the biotic known as The King Under the Mountain is confirmed to be alive and active.” I spoke, though already I was broadcasting the information myself. “We’ve a hunt on our hands.”