Alpha tossed the last ingot of refined material into the small cargo box on his back. Nearly an hour of work, and he’d only recovered 30% of the materials jettisoned by the transport drone. The rest were either trace elements he didn’t have an immediate need for or the materials lost to the rolling sea of grass. Unlike the transport drone, he didn’t have a large spatially compressed cargo bay or anti-grav engines to work with. He had to be selective about what he collected and what he left behind.
Losing his arm had been a setback, but he could make do with a nano-replica until he set up a base. He wouldn’t need to do any delicate work or access a mainframe any time soon.
As for the transport drone itself, Alpha put it out of his mind for now. Its programming would send it wandering around searching for an unset ‘Home’ beacon, possibly for years, until it reentered the range of his short-range overseer’s beacon. If it never did, no big deal; it was just a replaceable transport drone. It only had the most basic kinetic turret for fending off small stellar life and the minor nano-swarm in its cargo bay, so it was not like it could get into much trouble.
Right?
In the best-case scenario, it would come back in range soon so Alpha could regain control. Worst-case, the drone would fly around until some larger airborne creature decided it didn’t want the intruder in its airspace. Not much actual loss there; he could always make more once he was properly set up.
For now, he had a choice to make.
Did he head for the distant, forest-covered hills?
Or deeper into the prairies?
If my range finder is working, those trees must be massive…
The giant, hulking forms of the trees in the distance would have easily dwarfed the redwoods of Old Earth. That meant the forest could provide a better place to set up a more secure base and slowly scout out the area. But such large, dense trees often attracted megafauna, making it a risk.
In contrast, the prairies were far more open, and the Alpha could see for miles in any direction using the TAWP’s build in cameras.
But that means I can be seen as well. The TAWP would stick out like a sore thumb out there. Alpha thought to himself.
Even with the damage to the TAWP, Alpha was unlikely to be out-ranged by anyone or anything in a battle. Prairies and other flatlands were often hotbeds of mineral and oil caches as well. Maybe less than a mountain range, but the nearest one he could see was even further away than the forest.
He took a moment to deliberate, headed deeper into the prairies. Repairs took priority over information gathering for now. With the trouble the chicken had caused him — and seeing as even gophers had superpowers here — he wasn’t eager to run into any real megafauna in his current state. He figured he’d have just as much warning, even if something appeared.
… I just jinxed myself, didn’t I?
No sooner had the thought occurred to him than Alpha’s foot met not solid ground but open air.
“Son of a Biiiskkkkeeeet!”
The TAWP fell forward into an open pit twenty-meters deep. For any other creature, it would have been a substantial fall. But for the nearly fifteen-meter-tall TAWP, it was just an inconvenient tumble onto its back. Alpha righted himself and stared up at the small cliff. The hollow was packed with tall grass of the same variety that filled the rest of the prairies. The grass in the pit even grew to the same height as the surrounding grass, making it almost impossible to see the drop until it was too late.
But why? Did the grass not like rising above its neighbors? Did this species follow the principle of ‘the tallest blade of grass is the first cut down’? Or was there something more… sinister going on here? Given the abundance of small bones at the bottom of the pit, Alpha suspected it was the latter. Had this grass evolved to create its own natural pitfall? Animals wouldn’t see the pit and fall to their deaths or become severely injured. The ‘prey’ would then expire and feed the surrounding grass. A twenty-meter fall was no joke, even for larger animals.
Or did he have it backward? The pitfall might also be natural, and the grass just grew wherever it wanted. Its increased height could result from the extra food and a desire for more sunlight.
Perhaps a herbologist might be interested in the topic one day, years after his job was done, and write an article on it. The why didn’t really matter much to Alpha, though. What mattered to him was how common these pitfalls might be in the prairie. Were they strewn about sporadically with lots of space between? Or was this ‘flatland’ actually pockmarked enough to be a trypophobia nightmare?
It was almost enough to make him turn around and head for the forest instead. On second thought, though, these sinkholes presented an opportunity. If even a few of them were as deep as this one, they would make surveying the area for mineral deposits far easier. Talk about stumbling into good fortune! Maybe this terrible string of bad luck was finally ending.
… Right?
—————————————————————
The stunning woman in silky black robes kneeled at the crater’s edge on an ornate tarp and peered into the dark depths. Even now, hours after the Starfall, she could feel the intense solar and lunar energies emanating from the crater’s glassy surface. A dozen sect disciples worked tirelessly to extract every chip and fragment they could, while preserving the larger fragments when possible.
Every piece was a treasure of immense value, and not just because they gave off more energy than high-grade spirit stones. The energy type itself was… miraculous. A near-perfect mix of yin and yang, of sun and moon, the likes of which she’d never have thought possible before today.
It was gentle yet fierce.
Immovable, yet malleable and soft.
Peaceful, like an ancient sage speaking gently to his students.
But willing and able to rise as a warrior to defend his home at a moment’s notice.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
It was beautiful in a way she’d never expected to see on the mortal plane.
But then, such was the nature of Fallen Stars, having come from beyond mortal reaches.
The woman nodded at a disciple as he made his way up the ramp dug into the side of the crater and gestured him over.
The workers had to take breaks from the pit at regular intervals. Unfiltered energy from the realm beyond the Firmament could be helpful to their cultivation in moderation, but spending too long in places like the crater could damage one’s Foundation. Nonetheless, not a single one of them had complained yet.
Why would they? Despite the intensive work, each had made more personal progress in the few hours they’d been here than in the previous weeks or months combined.
Truly, this was a blessing for the Sect.
As the young man approached, he hastily wiped the dirt, grime, and sweat from his brow and bowed deeply to the woman, his fist inside a cupped hand.
“Elder Xiurong, you wished to speak with me?”
His voice was ragged and dry but chipper in a way that one wouldn’t expect from someone who’d spent the last two hours mining. A quick scan with her [Spirit Sight] told her why: he’d made a small step since the last time he’d taken a break. Good for him.
Elder Xiurong smiled at the young man and spoke, her voice as smooth as her silk robes and sweet as honey.
“Yes, Disciple Weiyuan, please ask Elder Song if he’d care to join me. I have something I wish to discuss with him.”
Lin Weiyuan took a step back and bowed again.
“Yes, Elder,” he replied before turning away from the rest area and rushing toward the tents where the star shards were being processed.
A few moments later, an old man with a long white beard but a powerful stride and straight back approached her. He wore elegant, pure white robes that would have shined in the sunlight if they weren’t currently covered in mud stains and who knew what else. He walked toward her with pride and confidence… only to slam face-first into an invisible barrier of Spirit Energy before he crossed the tarp’s threshold.
The old man backpedaled, clutching his nose and muttering something she’d have to report to the sect leader if any of the disciples had heard.
The old man stood straight and looked at her with a tilted head and raised brow. She stared back blankly, a slight frown marring her doll-like face. The old man furrowed his brow briefly, but then his eyes widened, and a grin split his face. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers.
A pulse of Spirit Energy swept out of him, and like magic, all the mud, grime, and gunk fell away like it had been commanded to flee his presence — which it had, after a manner of speaking.
Elder Xiurong only sighed, shaking her head as she lowered the barrier. Elder Song walked over and sat beside her, the same cheeky grin still on his face.
His voice was deep and raspy when he spoke, but it held a fiery youthfulness that belied his age.
“Yu-Yu! I’d call you a stick in the mud, but I’m afraid you’d hit me with it!”
Yu Xiurong stared up at the man, blank-faced.
“I see your jokes are as terrible as ever, Elder Song….”
Wu Song reared back, his eyes wide and a hand over his heart, though his voice never lost its playful tone.
“Whatever happened to that bright and cheerful snake I raised?! You never used to care if you got a little dirty! Why, I remember when you were five, and—”
Yu Xiurong’s head snapped to face the old man, her irises changing from a bottomless black to two slit, golden orbs.
“I’ll kindly ask you to forget whatever you were about to say. Unless you’d like to find Darkwash Plum juice in your tea again.”
Wu Song coughed into the hem of his robe and turned away.
“Yes, right; well, you wished to speak to me, Elder Xiurong?”
Yu Xiurong stared at the man for a moment longer before her irises shifted back to black shadows. She turned to face the excavation site and answered:
“I wanted to ask how the perimeter defenses are holding. Any sign of major trouble yet?”
Wu Song looked toward the sky, gently stroking his beard. When he spoke, his voice had lost its jovial tone. Wu Song had vanished from the tarp, replaced by Elder Song.
“No, not yet. Qi Mingxi and the other inner disciples are doing well at repelling the spirit beasts rampaging in the area. You did well in spotting that sprout, Elder Xiurong; she’ll grow tall if nurtured right.”
A slight smile formed on Elder Xiurong’s porcelain face at the thought of her newest disciple. The girl could use a bit more… fire, but she had potential for one so young. Elder Song turned to Elder Xiurong and asked his own question.
“And what of you? Have you tracked down whatever made away with the Fallen Star itself?”
Elder Xiurong’s smile fell, and so did her voice. Her eyes flashed gold as she stared off into the distance.
“No… my scouts lost the trail a short while ago… Whatever it is, it’s big and moving far faster than a cart or Spirit Vessel. The tracks seem to wander as if whatever made them has no actual destination or sense of where they are. They spent some time on a stretch of prairie where there was nothing of particular interest, moving in a strange grid pattern as if searching for something.
“My scouts have collected several… odd… samples discovered along the grid and outside of it, but little I can put a name to, and nothing very impressive at first glance. Once they arrive, we might find some answers to where they have taken the Fallen Star.”
Elder Song nodded and asked, “I see. Is that why you called me over? I’ll send some disciples to retrieve the samples. Just inform me when they arrive.”
Elder Xiurong shook her head in response as she spoke. “No. While that’s part of it, I have something else to report…”
Elder Song raised a brow.
“Oh? What else, my dear?”
Elder Xiurong paused, then turned to her peer, her brow furrowed.
“I’ve detected signs of the Akh’lut in the area.”
Elder Song froze, hand on his beard, mid-stroke. He then turned towards the woman, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.
“Are you certain? The Akh’lut aren’t ones to move without good reason. Do you think they have eyes for the Fallen Star? Or are they upset we’ve intruded on their territory without permission? If need be, I’m sure I can get the others to agree to hand over a portion of the star shards in payment.”
Elder Xiurong shook her head.
“No. The traces were older than the Starfall, suggesting they were also searching for something else. I don’t know what, or if it’s related to the Starfall itself, but whatever their reasons, it must be of grave importance if the Akh’lut are moving so openly.”
Elder Song nodded and rose from his seat, dusting off his robe as he spoke.
“Thank you for informing me of this, Elder Xiurong. I will let the patrols and defenders know to be careful. Today is supposed to be a joyous day; it would do us no honor if a disciple was killed because they mistook one of our hosts for a common beast.”
As Wu Song departed, a small pit formed under his foot at the tarp’s edge. The old man fell forward with a wide-eyed “woop?!” landing face first in a small mud puddle.
As the old man rose to his feet, sputtering bits of grass and mud, he turned to glare at his junior.
Yu Xiurong didn’t bother to return the glare, though she hid a small grin behind the sleeve of her elegant robe.
—————————————————————
“Who’s a good little whale-wolf-puppy-thing?! You are! Yes, you are!”
Alpha made little cooing noises as he gave belly scritches to the adorable, tiny puppy-thing in front of him. Well, tiny was subjective; it was only as big as the hand on his manipulator arm, but to a normal human, it would be the size of a large wolf, though it still had the proportions and general shape of a few-months-old puppy.
If said puppy looked like someone took an orca and gave it the teeth of a tiger and the limbs of a particularly burly dragon, that was.
“Ya! Who’s my vicious little killer?!”
Alpha tossed a still bloody strip of feathery meat into the air. The pup jumped, snatching it with grace before landing softly, careful not to come down on a newly bandaged leg.
Alpha clapped and scratched the creature on top of its head. As it leaned into the pets, playfully biting at a metallic finger, Alpha spoke.
“Good girl! I like you. Do you want to come with Uncle Alpha? There’ll be plenty of tasty penguin-adjacent-bird things!”
The puppy bark-clicked and panted with its tongue out, tail wagging in a very puppy-like manner.
Alpha grabbed his new companion and put her on a tiny seat he quickly printed on his back before speaking.
“That’s good enough for me! I think I’ll name you… Snowball!”
With that, Alpha and Snowball continued on their journey.