The Galactic Plumber

The Warden's Chains

Space is full of bad ideas. Black holes. Meteor storms. Deep-fried space rations.

But standing in front of an eldritch nightmare wrapped in chains?

Top five worst ideas.

The Warden loomed at the end of the corridor, its body shifting like a glitch in reality. Its form flickered between solid and not, tendrils of shadow curling from its elongated limbs. Its chains rattled, moving on their own, stretching out like they had a mind of their own.

And those eyes—or what should have been eyes—were nothing but swirling, hungry voids.

I swallowed. Hard.

Ryker raised his rifle. "Logan. Tell me you have a plan."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Step one: don't die. Step two: figure out step three."

Benny, still looking like he was about to pass out, squeaked, "I'd like a better plan."

The lights flickered again. The walls warped, pulling inward, like the ship itself was being dragged toward the Warden. A deep, resonant hum vibrated through the deck plates, like the entire Acheron was a tuning fork struck by something ancient and hungry.

And then—

The chains moved.

They lashed out, cracking through the air like living whips.

We barely had time to react.

Ryker shoved Orla aside as a chain sliced through the air, leaving a glowing scar where she had just stood. Voss raised her hands, and her golden tattoos flared, creating a shimmering barrier that blocked another chain—but the force of the impact sent her skidding backward.

I grabbed Benny and dove behind a bulkhead, narrowly avoiding a chain that embedded itself in the wall, twisting like a serpent.

The Warden took a slow step forward, its movements unnatural, like a puppet on broken strings. The shadows around it deepened, and the temperature plummeted even further.

Then, it spoke.

"You do not belong."

Its voice wasn't a sound. It was a pressure, a weight in my skull, an invasive presence that made my vision swim.

I gritted my teeth. "Yeah? Well, neither does a sentient pile of sewage, but here we are!"

The Warden tilted its head.

Then, it raised a hand.

And Benny screamed.

The Pull of the Void

Benny lifted off the ground, like something unseen had grabbed him by the chest. His limbs jerked, his body twitching unnaturally.

I lunged for him. "Benny!"

His eyes rolled back. His mouth moved, but his voice wasn't his.

It was the Warden's.

"Flesh. Weak. Break."

Voss reacted instantly. She hurled a glowing sigil toward Benny's body, and the second it hit, Benny dropped.

I caught him just before he hit the ground.

His body was trembling, his face pale and slick with sweat. "I… I don't like this game," he mumbled weakly.

"Yeah?" I said, dragging him backward. "Neither do I."

The Warden lowered its hand, its empty gaze locking onto me.

"You are the anomaly."

I froze.

For one, horrible moment, I could feel its awareness crawling over me.

Like it knew something about me that I didn't.

I clenched my fists. "Buddy, I'm a lot of things, but I am not an anomaly."

The Warden didn't answer. It simply raised its chains again.

And this time, they struck fast.

Plan B: Run Like Hell

"MOVE!" Ryker barked, firing off three rapid shots from his rifle. The plasma rounds slammed into the Warden's chest—

And did nothing.

The chains lashed out again. Orla barely dodged as one snapped past her head.

"We need a way out of here!" she shouted.

Voss looked around, eyes darting frantically. "The docking bay—if we can make it—"

"Then we're running," Ryker said.

And just like that, we booked it.

The Warden didn't chase. It simply moved, its form flickering forward in impossible steps, always just behind us, its chains tearing through the walls as we ran.

Benny was half-conscious, barely keeping up. I slung his arm over my shoulder, dragging him forward.

The corridors warped as we moved, the walls twisting, the very structure of the Acheron shifting like the ship itself was being rewritten around us.

The docking bay doors were ahead—open, thank the stars.

We sprinted through—

And stopped dead.

Because standing right in front of our ship was something else.

It wasn't the Warden.

It was a figure in black armor, sleek, seamless, featureless except for a single glowing red visor.

And the second we saw it, it raised a weapon.

I barely had time to yell before everything went white.

Welcome to the Unknown

I woke up to the sound of dripping water.

For a second, I thought I was back in engineering. That maybe, somehow, I'd been knocked out in the sewage bay again.

But no.

This was worse.

I sat up. My head throbbed. My limbs felt heavy. My clothes were damp, the air thick and humid.

And around me?

Metal walls. Dim, rusted. A faint, pulsing red glow in the distance. Pipes dripped from the ceiling.

And the worst part?

I was alone.

I scrambled to my feet, heart hammering. "Guys?"

No answer.

I turned, scanning the narrow industrial corridor. A door sat at the far end, flickering with a failing red light.

And then—

A voice.

Soft. Mechanical. Not human.

"Specimen acquired. Begin Phase One."

Oh.

Oh, hell no.

I backed up, my pulse skyrocketing. "Nope. Nope. I refuse to be an experiment."

The intercom crackled.

"Welcome, Chief Engineer Logan."

And just like that—

The door slid open.

To Be Continued...