Samsara

Irantu peered inside the den of the farmhouse, shotgun at the ready. The hairs on his neck stood up as the anomaly in the house clashed with the device strapped to his back. Nanku's limbs were already swollen with malignant tissue. She pulled out her knife and started sawing away as quietly as she could, practicing her winces when she punctured noncancerous flesh.

From half a kilometer atop the cliffs, Mobile Task Force Tau-5 peered through their binoculars at the dish as it swiveled back into place.

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The squad moved forward carefully, guns trained on the bubbling mass of flesh dressed in Foundation-issue body armor. Irantu poked it with the barrel of the shotgun.

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Irantu prodded the mass with the barrel of his shotgun, which did nothing except make it chant slightly faster. His radio crackled to life.

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