Enter The Reaper

In the Iea System, war is a game of metal and ghost-signals—and the Reaper is winning. A raven-black spectre drifts through the asteroid dark, striking fuel depots, fragmenting patrols, and vanishing before scanners can even scream a warning. The pilots call it "the Reaper". No faction claims it. No transponder pings it. And every encounter ends the same way: burning debris and one less mech in the black. For the scrappy colonial squadron stationed on the fringe, the Reaper should be command’s problem. But when their home station becomes the next target, a rookie pilot and their tight-knit wingmates are thrust into a hunt that will push their rigs—and their minds—to the breaking point. Because the Reaper isn't just faster. It isn't just smarter. It's anticipating them.