Outer Rim: The ground shook before anyone saw them. High above the red cliffs of Kalos IV, the clouds split into a whirl of black spirals. Out of that churning sky came shapes — massive, fanged, and thrumming with alien power. At first, they looked like ships, bristling with metallic plates and glowing ports. Then their jaws opened, rows of glistening teeth catching the sun, and the screaming began. The first Mawborn hit the ground like a meteor, orange armor clanging against the rock, claws gouging deep trenches in the dust. A second one swooped low, wings snapping the air like gunfire. From its gullet came a spray of neon acid, melting a terraforming tower into a sagging skeleton of metal. Then the third arrived — a sphere of burning light, mouth wide and spitting a beam of yellow fire that cut through the canyon wall as if it were paper. The blast ignited the air, sending shockwaves that knocked colonists off their feet. Commander Vale barked orders through the comms, but it was chaos. Workers scrambled for cover, soldiers opened fire, and the sky became a swarm of streaking tracer rounds and twisting alien shadows. The Mawborn didn’t fall — they danced between the shots, their laughter (or was it roaring?) rattling in the colonists’ chests. Behind the front lines, a group of children stood frozen at the edge of the valley, eyes wide as the orange Mawborn’s shadow fell over them. Somewhere in the distance, the atmosphere processors kept humming, oblivious to the carnage. They were the reason the Mawborn had come — and the reason humanity would fight to the last breath.

(all hand drawn in procreate) 2024