Pain was the only language the universe was speaking.
Every impact was a thunderclap that rattled my bones. Every near-miss from the queen's lashing limbs was a gust of wind that threatened to tear the air from my lungs.
I was a gnat buzzing around a god, a flickering shadow fighting a tidal wave of alien flesh and psychic malice.
The queen wasn't even fully awake. Her movements were sluggish, uncoordinated, driven by a primal, instinctual rage rather than tactical thought.
Her massive body was still mostly submerged in the amniotic fluid of her tank, which had cracked and shattered under the force of our battle.
She was a newborn titan, and she was still powerful enough to kill me a hundred times over.
I used Shadow Step to blink away from a sweeping tentacle that shattered a reinforced concrete pillar like it was chalk. The debris rained down, and I used Kinetic Overcharge to absorb the impact, the energy a welcome, burning jolt to my screaming muscles.
