Corrupted Invader

It laughed at her; a deep guttural purr from the rumbling depths of nightmare; and the Hunter cursed underneath her breath. The creature had disappeared from sight, rendered itself invisible in this spectrum with the help of advanced cloaking technology. Frantically she switched visors. Thermal: nothing save pools of Phazon coursing cold blue. X-ray: a spectral tracing of a corrupted nervous system, drawing on the Phazon for help.

Regenerating.

Quickly she aimed and began charging, hoping she could land a hit on that corrupted blue heart lest the fight begin anew. And the last thing she wanted was to start over again. Not after she had just managed to blow off all the Pirate's armour, leaving it weakened and exposed.

Summoned by their Master's plea, a group of Plasma Troopers appeared. The Hunter disregarded them as mere nuisances, threats to her as mosquitoes to a horse. She only had one chance, one opening, and if she wasted it on the Troopers her real foe would strike back twice as hard, with double the anger.  

Chittered screeches.

The Plasma Troopers descended on her, peppering her with laser fire and blackening her suit. She gritted her teeth in pain. Her suit screamed at her, bellowing its alarms into her ears as her life force slowly ebbed away. The Omega Pirate watched on resolutely, grinning its crocodile smile. And it laughed, filling the room with its grumbled purrs.  

It had won. The Hunter had lost. The great Zebesian race finally stood victorious.

No. They had not won. The Hunter simply would not allow such a travesty to happen.

A different chime, this one soft and sibilant. Charging completed. Her last energy tank on the verge of destruction she released her hold on the beam and let fire, combining it at the last second with her precious few remaining missiles. Surprised the Plasma Troopers jumped back. The Super Missile cut cleanly through the head of one, ending its life right then and there, before plotting a collision course with that irradiated central pump, the Pirate's infected glowing heart.

Even hidden under the protection of its Chameleon Manta, Samus could see the surprise register on Omega Pirate Upsilon's misshapen face a split second before it hit.

"Now who has the last laugh?" she hissed malevolently.

Cowards. That's all the Pirates were: cowards. At the sight of their fallen leader the two remaining Plasma Troopers turned tail and ran, vanishing quickly into the surrounding darkness. Upsilon staggered forwards, out of the Phazon that could no longer heal its grievous injuries, a too large claw clutched protectively to its cracked chest. The Hunter allowed herself a grim smile and stood back, cannon as always on the ready. It surveyed her with flaming eyes and made one last half hearted attempt to kill her, slashing outwards with its wicked curved claws.

The Hunter jumped backwards and let off the last missile in her repository.
  
Chiton snapped and bones broke. Its chest blew open, a gaping wound leaking bright blue and dark green, a grotesque mixture of blood and Phazon and chemicals. A repulsive mix of liquids that flooded the room with the pungeant stench of ammonia and chlorine. The Omega Pirate, so hulking huge and monstrous and covered in the cancerous tumours of its own Phazon blood, lost its balance. It was in pain. It was finally dying. It uttered its last gargled notes of agony, its flaming eyes sputtering once before going out. And before the Hunter could escape, it fell. Its legs buckled and it lost its footing and it pitched forwards, landing with a bone jarring crack on the Hunter herself.

Sudden panic flared in her mind.

She struggled to escape. This corrupted invader was too heavy, too dense. Its thick chitinous armour was too sharp and hard and she couldn't move it even if she tried. And despite the seriousness of the situation, the irony as always managed to catch her, managed to twist its insidious tendrils deep into her mind and smile accordingly.  

"Is this th-the end?" she stuttered quietly, managing a weak laugh. "Finally k-killed? After I've g-gone through so much to g-get here--?"

Don't be so silly, my dear girl…It's only just begun…

Phazon was a tricky substance. Unstable. Raw. Volatile. Origins unknown and capabilities seemingly endless. The Pirates had a nasty habit of tampering with life, and when they had, by some fluke of  nature, stumbled upon the radioactive mutagen, of course the first thing they had done was inject it into themselves. To see what it could do. And the random mutation know as Omega Pirate Upsilon came about they had patted themselves at the back in joy, not realizing what they had created. Something tainted and evil. Something insane. Something that bled radioactive blue instead of green. So when the Pirate began to disintegrate in a gurgling burst of intense blue, the only thing Samus felt was pain.  

Anguish, complete and absolute. Coursing through her veins like liquid fire.

She screamed, of course. For in the long run, she was only human. And to scream is a human response to agony. She would not go down without voicing all her agony in a single primal cry, without letting the Pirates know all of her emotions in one ear shattering go. She hoped all to hell they heard, and she hoped all to hell they shuddered inside their greasy black exoskeletons when they did. When they finally realized what they had done.    

Her cries fell on deaf ears. The walls turned their backs and dutifully ignored her. If she died now no one would know. And no one would mourn.  

Stop screaming, my dear. You'll only make the pain that much more exquisite…

She screamed anyway, ignoring the voice that had piped up at the back of her ravaged psyche with no warning. The Phazon clung to her suit and wormed its way into the cracks and made itself one with her bloodstream, giving her power at the expense of her mind.  

Hush, little baby, it's almost over…

And, true to its words, the pain vanished. In the space of a second, where once she was on fire now she was cold, inhumanly so. With blurred vision and a pounding headache the Hunter staggered to her feet, a hand inadvertently going to her helmeted head in a vain attempt to stop the ringing in her ears. Something laughed, a whispered chuckle, and she swung around, cannon at the ready.

She was alone.

The only thing keeping her company were the puddles of raw Phazon crackling in the corners, watching her without a care, as though she simply did not exist in their tiny little reality. She let out a halting breath and tilted her head to the side, listening. The laugh did not come again. She shook her head and swiftly departed the room.

It remained empty.  

Where once her Chozonian suit was scuffed orange, now it was black, accented red and radiating a wavering aura, as though heat was constantly escaping it. Or radiation. She did not stop to think. Did not stop to question. She did not stop to give in to the nagging weight at the back of her mind, the curious lump that had formed in her throat.

Cry? She would never cry. Not here. Not in this Pirate-made abomination they called a base. Not when she had a mission that demanded completion and a bloodlust that could only be sated with the death of a dragon, the annihilation of a species.

And though she didn't hear it, blinded by her own revenge, the laughter came again. The Phazon itself, speaking to her in such subtly sweet tones, worming its way into her mind like a transparent parasite she refused to see.

Don't cry, my dear. Never cry. Give in to the Phazon and… destroy... for me…