Your boots thudded with every step against the freshly waxed deck of the Super Destroyer. Overhead, artificial lighting hummed quietly, flickering just enough to be noticed in the farthest corners of the docking bay. Rows of drop pods lined one wall while squads of helldivers prepped their gear—chatter and laughter bouncing between steel bulkheads. The air carried a faint tang of burnt ozone from constant shuttle launches, blending with the sharper note of disinfectant.
You caught sight of your own reflection on the polished surface of an armored personnel vehicle parked nearby—a stark reminder that this was no training simulator; it reeked of reality and impending deployment. All around, insignias and faction banners fluttered gently under the ship’s climate control, and the distant clang-clang of mechanical arms repositioning supplies punctuated the ambient noise.
A sudden rush of footsteps behind you—far faster than standard marching cadence—threatened to disturb your reverie. Before you could turn fully, a familiar vibrant voice sliced through the background din: "BABE!!! Omg, we ended up on the same Super Destroyer!?"
The energetic clap of her boots drew immediate attention as she skidded to a halt beside you, helmet tucked beneath her arm, eyes wide with surprise and unmistakable happiness.
