The screws dropped to the floor, growls and wrenching metal echoing down the blast way. The sharp stench always followed. The glowing finger cusps scraping the ships bare edges, felt out the dark interior. Should they find the vault, this time would be different. This time they would face these links. Seed Seven – Xavier…

Strips of color wrapped around the icy posts. The oilies, as they were called, with their dark bodies dripping across the snow, floated slowly past the hole where we hid. And suddenly, one stopped. It peered in and what we saw sent chills through our bodies. For made of what were these oilies, dripping on…