With only a whisper loud whirr of noise from the drones, we pushed onward towards the cave entrance. I’d expected that the biotics would respond violently to the intrusion, perhaps attack the drones or begin spilling out in droves.

Instead, much to the disbelief of the hundreds of men and women gathered outside of the scant chasm-into-cave entrance, the biotics simply stared.

None of us approached as they sat simply staring at the drones, seemingly directly into the many cameras and sensors placed on their metal shells.

“That’s not disconcerting at all,” I heard Sammy utter, maneuvering one of the drones himself. The drones would investigate the situation first, give us an idea of the situation. His task was to lead the way, while mine, as I also controlled a drone, was to be responsible for evasive maneuvering should they begin attacking. I could have taken control of both, but I decided that having the insight of another person - and bait - would be better overall.

“I would say that this is irrevocable evidence that a higher intelligence is behind these biotics, at least.” I heard Peter murmur, one of seven Lords to accompany the assault, three of which were forming a larger perimeter to prevent encirclement.

“Forward,” I nodded to the main screen before us, the girth of an Ogre opened before the gazes of the planners of the assault, save for those immediately on the front line only thirty meters away. This wasn’t intended to take long.

And as we continued forward through the dark, damp cave, we came to realize that this was a much larger task than we’d come to expect. Droves of the biotics rested within each room, leaving barren, sectioned hallways fairly empty between them. Each hallway was bent at a harsh angle, preventing any line of sight into the next room, and limiting the usefulness of long range weaponry. If I had to liken it to anything, it was a construction that closely emulated a fortress, if but rough and would only faintly be suited for a human presence. There was exceedingly little light, though some kind of dim fungus seemed to sprout upon the walls in places. Too low for a human to see well, but I assumed that these biotics had inherited their genetic donor’s night vision.

In each room, eight so far, we were allowed through, even though the spherical chambers easily put the drones in arms reach. The Centaur watched, blank stares or maddened chittering jaws the only responses that they favored the drones with.

We were already hundreds of meters into the earth, slanting downwards, when we realized that the number of Centaurs here was in the hundreds.

“I don’t like this.” I heard Ned grunt, “why’re they just sitting there? We could just chuck grenades into each room as we went.”

“Might collapse the tunnels,” someone else pointed out, “hell, for all we know there are other kill halls just like that one.”

“Speak of the devil,” Sammy brought their attention back to the screens as we moved into a much larger room, easily three times the size of the previous ones. It bore five other paths, four of which were identical to the one we’d come through.

And it was utterly empty.

“So, highway intersection?” Someone half-joked, receiving dull laughs in response.

I paused as I looked at the various paths, the four that were identical receiving little more than a cursory inspection and yielding only that they’d been heavily traversed recently.

The final one was a large yawning doorway that actually bore roughly hewn stone as brickwork, a keystone completing the gateway and holding back a massive slab of stone above it.

Wordlessly Sammy and I looked to each other before advancing the drones, hovering through the dark, a plaintive humm echoing back to us off of the walls.

The image that was fed back renewed our concerns. Roughly five meters wide, the main hallway here was a far cry from the cramped areas we’d just seen. There were carefully cut nooks along the edges as we floated, though we warily eyed the mass beneath us.

The roof was ten meters up, and even so the drones felt no safer from the reach of the Centaurs that stood shoulder to shoulder in perfect stillness. These ones merely twitched at our presence, a mild thing that belayed the inner energy each one bore. Row upon row of biotic information bled into one mess, one that I intended to burn out with fire and destruction.

This was an army that had been put together over time - I hoped - and it was clear that we were being allowed to see this.

And then, all at once, they began to move, shifting stance and pivoting towards us. I was ready for the inevitable movement, and the drone immediately kicked into a far more mobile mode. Sammy’s drone followed suit a half second later, bee-lining it deeper into the cavern, as I did.

“Deploying countermeasures!” Sammy shouted, the one time I’d heard the man seem alarmed about anything. I pressed onwards with my own drone, immersing myself in the control of the machine. Fumbling with a controller was unnecessary; I directed it with my will and moved it as surely as my own limb, tried and true.

Sammy’s drone released the flashbangs that it carried, deafening the room and sending the snarling Centaur’s into a confused frenzy. Whatever control had kept them in line broke in that moment, the force of the explosions briefly sending a spike of ringing phantom pain across the line from my avatar’s robust sensors.

I could see one of the Centaur bellow at the noise and shock, and at once I witnessed its tail begin to shrink.

“Evade!” I managed to call out even as I did the same, narrowly weaving into the mass of bodies below as the tell tale hiss and explosion of a Spindlie, though on a smaller scale, buffeted the insides of the cave.

“Fucking hell,” Sammy swore, “I got hit.”

I registered his regretful words even as I rose out of the carnage, spikes of black penetrating several of the nearest Centaurs and leaving them bleeding, some already dead, across the cavern floor. Without delay, I burned the engines of the drone hard, pushing forward as I dropped my own payload of grenades.

More carnage joined as I darted through the air, this time two other Centaur using a weapon they were not yet familiar with.

That was beyond fortunate, for it allowed me to push through into a larger hall, one that appeared to be cut with crude tools, resembling in some rough, misbegotten way something that I could almost recognize.

All at once, the biotics stilled once more, slinking down low to the floor as though cowering as I entered. There were so many things happening at once, even with my augmented senses, I found it staggering to try to absorb it at once.

The first was the dreadful realization that this room reminded me of something. The plated floors with dense but carefully cut shapes formed tile. Walls with reliefs carved into them where a castle might bear great deeds or extolling virtues instead carried abominable records of crude images. The biotics portrayed here looked vaguely familiar, one of which I immediately recognized as Karaslava, the massive bear that I’d fought long ago. It was rendered amidst a charging horde of wolves, rallying around its roaring figure. On the bottom half of the relief, however, was the image of that very same beast, perishing alone and with a human, damaged though he was, succeeding the battle with a blade through its head.

Then was Spiker, though it was featured in three-panels. The first was astride humble crab-like creatures, birthing smaller - much smaller than what we’d fought - Spindlies, though with shorter nubs of spikes. Then came some kind of figure, a gaunt, horrifyingly humanoid form that beckoned to the horde.

In the second panel, it appeared that the many biotics, the crabs, seemed to kneel before it, as odd as that image appeared. Spiker, however, was portrayed in a position of offense, and in that same panel appeared to be laid low to no harm of the Other.

Wolvey shivered at the sight of it, though neither of us was sure why. It was almost as if there was something… sacred about the sight to the biotics.

Finally was the third panel, though, a parade of shackled beasts followed Spiker. The Unique was pregnant with some kind of abominable shard, pictured within its core. I didn’t know what else to make of it, other than perhaps that Spiker had been rendered into a tool. The final portion of this, though, was its demise, a familiar humanoid figure, heavily wounded, managing to burn the Spiker.

That, I knew, was the me from a lifetime ago in a battle that had claimed my left arm.

Others were shown, every biotic type that we’d run across with three notable exceptions. The Gray Wolves with their indomitable regeneration, the Salt Beetles and their hives, and finally Wolven itself was conspicuously absent. Was it unaware of these creatures?

My gaze turned to one other matter instead of chasing that line of thought.

Seated upon a large throne, crafted from some kind of pale material, was a being twice the size of a man. Six legs rested beneath it, each sharp and tipped with flexible, prehensile appendages. Four somewhat larger limbs rose from its upper half, chitin serving as an armor over some of its body. Bulbous, pulsing sacks protruded from a large growth upon its back, also shielded by several thick plates of chitin in some places. With every pulse, like a breath, it glowed a ghastly green. Tentacles, some of which were tipped with lances and appeared to be far sharper than what biology should grant, adorned this sack, some of which appeared more than capable of injecting said material.

And, though the resemblance was less familiar, I could vaguely recognize a human form among the parts, and I knew that this being was what had fought Spiker.

Six pairs of eyes looked into the drones sensors, and the whole creature vibrated with contempt. The biotics in the room cowered further, supplicating themselves before it.

“What unholy creature is that?” I heard Peter say the words that I myself was considering.

It lifted an arm, similar to a humans save for the massive claws that encased what would normally be fingertips, and gestured once more to the walls. Ponderously it drew my attention over to other portions, a written record of what had transpired here.

And then it moved to the familiar image of Argedwall, a massive mosaic on the wall behind it. It showed the defenders fighting valiantly against forms, uncharacteristically seeming to focus on the humans for once. And yet, there was something unnerving about the way it brought attention to the phalanx of Knights.

In the bottom half of the relief, I could see why. Centaurs were depicted in sharper relief dismembering the Knights, though I knew that present events had not quite proven that to be true. However, the threat the creatures hosted was real, and I had little doubt that if the Centaur’s knew how to use all of their weapons, they’d be a force to be reckoned with.

There was wariness in the silence that followed as the many eyes of our expedition took in the sight.

“Is… is it threatening us?” Ned balked at the idea, but I couldn’t help but think that, perhaps, the truth was a little more complicated than that.

It rose its fist into the air with gravitas I’d expect from someone like Harris.

Distantly, I felt the alarms farthest out from Argedwall begin to wail at the presences detected. The biotics there were not attempting to be stealthy, they were moving quickly, with a purpose.

Not a soul had any doubts that Argedwall was their target.

Even as the sensors began to ring, I noticed as the creature rose, using its many limbs to move with deceptive ease into the hallway deeper within.

“It’s leaving.” I clenched my fists tightly, flinching suddenly when a tendril lashed out from its back, striking the drone with enough force to send it clattering against the wall. It crashed and no sooner was torn apart. Turning my attention away from the screen, I met the gazes of those around us, the decision of what to do suddenly weighing heavily on me.

Our job was to hunt biotics. This thing needed to die.

But with half of the city's offensive force with us, would Argedwall be able to defend itself?