The stillness in the cavern was palpable. The only way to tell time was still moving was the slow, constant drips from the damp stalactites above them. Deep underground with only the faint green lights of their Glowbulbs to guide them, the Xuroc Expedition had been expecting to find a new mineral reserve for their colony. Yet now they stood, paralyzed by what was in front of them.

Impossible. The word ricocheted from Zirok's mind to Alaea through to Krino and then around the rest of the group as well. 'It can't be', 'There's no way', 'We should run' started to join the fray. The Xuroc ability to share minds was often a benefit - for exploration, combat, companionship - but right now, all it was doing was compounding their uncertainty, moulding it into panic and fear.

Images started flying between them. The painted shrines in Za Veda, the relics in the Tau'R Monasteries, the statues that lined Darmuut. Each of them bearing the same figures. Figures that they'd been taught to fear. 'Eat your Go'ra stems or the Desecrators will come and eat you' was a popular phrase amongst the Broodmothers.

The Desecrators were the fuel of nightmares. Only four tentacles, or 'arms and legs' according to the priests, each with five little 'fingers' at the end of each of them. Two eyes instead of five, placed on the front of their 'head' to narrow in on their prey. Everything about them was designed to kill and control the world around them. Thankfully, they were a Xuroc myth that had been passed from generation to generation to scare spawnlings into eating their Go'Ra stems.

Except that now, far beneath the planet's surface, the lone expedition were all staring at one.