Blake moved in a low crouch, using his enhanced perception to pick a path that kept him hidden from the scout's position. Chunks of debris provided decent cover as he closed the distance, but something about the scout's posture nagged at him. The figure stood too still, head tilted at an unnatural angle like a bird of prey.

His HUD highlighted possible approach vectors, marking stable footing and potential noise hazards. Blake chose a route that kept him in the deepening shadows cast by towering wreckage. The growing storm had already dimmed the harsh sunlight, creating patches of darkness perfect for concealment.

The scout hadn't moved from their perch, but their head tracked in slow, deliberate sweeps across the debris field. The movement reminded Blake of automated security cameras—mechanical, precise, covering specific sectors in a predetermined pattern. His enhanced vision picked out more details as he drew closer: their armor was a patchwork of scavenged pieces, but it followed a coherent design. Not the random assemblage of desperate survivors.

Blake went still. The scout's head had snapped toward him. Fast. Too fast. There was no chance he was heard over the cacophony of falling debris, but something had tipped them off. The way they shifted their weight said it all. This was no amateur. This was someone who knew how to kill.

He faded back into the shadows, letting [Warden's Insight] do its work. Numbers and vectors painted his field of view, mapping sight lines, escape routes, tactical options. Useless. The scout tracked him anyway as if they could see right through the wreckage. But no, the scout wasn't looking directly at him—just his general vicinity. They weren't perfect.

"They can sense me somehow," he whispered, barely moving his lips. "Probably got their own detection abilities."

"Almost certainly," Chimera responded. Blake tensed a bit at the volume of her voice before remembering that it was a phantom thing, heard solely in his own mind. "The question is what they're sensing exactly."

Up on their perch, the scout's hand moved to their helmet. A quick gesture, partly hidden. Calling backup? Above them both, storm clouds churned black and mean. Static popped and hissed in the heavy air. Hopefully it would interfere with his reception.

Blake channeled more power into [Warden's Insight], willing it to suss out more useful information on the target. He was still over 50 yards away—further than Blake would like for using his pistol.

Then scout's head snapped around again, this time with laser focus on Blake's exact position. Their hand dropped to a weapon at their hip—some kind of energy pistol that hummed to life with an audible whine. Blake's instincts screamed danger as his HUD highlighted the weapon's likely capabilities based on its construction.

"They can definitely sense us," Chimera confirmed. "Probably tracking our mana signature based on that reaction."

Blake exploded into motion as the scout's weapon came up. [Unfettered Stride] carried him in a blur of speed as energy bolts sizzled through the space he'd occupied. The scout tracked his movement with inhuman precision, leading their shots with calculated efficiency.

Each blast left trails of data in Blake's vision—velocity, temperature, dispersal patterns. His HUD integrated the information in real-time, mapping the weapon's effective range and optimal dodge angles. Blake wove through the barrage, using debris for cover as he closed the distance.

The scout backpedaled, maintaining their firing position while speaking rapid commands into their comm unit. Their movements flowed with an unnatural fluidity, more like a trained dancer than a soldier. Blake's perception caught the subtle signs of cultivated power radiating from them - the way they moved with impossible precision, how their form seemed to ripple with barely contained energy. Every motion spoke of years spent honing their body into something beyond mere human limits.

Blake vaulted over a fallen beam, tucking into a roll as energy bolts carved molten trails through the air above him. The scout's basics were impressive, but their shooting was definitely something born at a range. Each burst followed textbook patterns - the kind you'd drill against stationary targets. But real combat wasn't so clean or predictable. The poor scout could never get a clear shot between Blake's hard-won experience and the formidable combination of [Warden's Insight] and [Ufettered Stride].

Blake came up inside their firing arc, knife leading the way. The scout shifted stance with unnerving precision, their free hand sweeping up to intercept the blade. Blake feinted, letting [Unfettered Stride] carry him past their guard. The knife reversed grip as he spun, aiming for the gap between helmet and shoulder plate.

The scout moved with a speed that surpassed normal human reaction, their cultivated muscles responding with an almost unnatural fluidity. Their armored forearm deflected the knife as their pistol swung into position for a close-range shot. Blake's heightened perception registered the instant their finger tightened on the trigger.

He slammed his palm into their weapon hand, directing the energy bolt into the ground. The scout's stance shifted to compensate, but Blake was already inside their guard. His knife found the seam in their armor, sliding between plates to sever things that ought to have remained connected.

Blood gushed from the scout's wound, but their eyes remained locked on Blake's, burning with a fierce determination. Even as their life force ebbed away, they summoned a surge of dark energy that allowed them to counterattack. Their free hand closed around Blake's throat, fingers constricting with an unnatural strength. Blake could see shadows coalescing in the air around the man's forearm and hand.

Blake drove his knee into their side, targeting the same gap his knife had found. The scout's grip loosened for a fraction of a second—long enough for Blake to twist free and slam his elbow into their helmet's visor. The reinforced material cracked, and for the first time, Blake caught a glimpse of the person beneath. Their eyes blazed with an inner light, dark energy coursing through the veins around them like living shadows.

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The scout's body trembled from the damage, but they still managed to raise their weapon. Blake knocked the pistol aside as it discharged, the energy bolt superheating the air inches from his face. His knife found another gap. Assuming this alien had veins and arteries like a human, then the fight would be over shortly.

As if on cue, the scout collapsed, their knees buckling as they began to run out of blood. Blake caught them before they could hit the ground, lowering the body quietly to avoid making noise. It was a useless reflex, but the man had fought hard, and so Blake took the time to reach past the shattered visor and close the man's vaguely reptilian eyes.

Blake looked up at the wormhole's shrinking maw. The massive portal spitting out starship chunks now resembled a wound slowly knitting itself closed. Only a few final sections of hull tumbled through, their shadows racing across the debris field below.

His HUD tracked the descending pieces, marking their projected impact zones with glowing markers. The ground trembled as another section crashed down roughly a klick distant, kicking up a cloud of rust-colored dust that joined the growing storm on the horizon. That storm was getting closer, threatening his visibility.

Movement caught his eye. Through [Warden's Insight], he spotted multiple dust trails forming behind him—small, precise formations that spoke of organized groups on the move. His enhanced vision picked out the telltale signs of vehicles threading through the debris field. The scout's death hadn't gone unnoticed.

Blake wiped his blade clean on the dead scout's armor before resheathing it. His muscles burned from the enhanced movements of the fight, and his mana reserves were running lower than he'd like. But there wasn't time to rest. The wormhole's closure meant the best salvage would be gone soon, and those dust clouds meant he had company coming.

----------------------------------------

Blake sprinted across the uneven terrain, his enhanced abilities making the treacherous footing feel almost natural. Pieces of hull metal groaned beneath his boots as he picked his path through the debris.

"That was some impressive work back there," Chimera said. "Your movements are already very natural. You even earned a bunch of skill levels, if you want to review."

"Weren't those just popping up before?" Blake asked. "Why didn't I notice?"

"I suppressed anything unnecessary for you," Chimera responded. "I figured you didn't want to be distracted during a combat situation."

Blake vaulted over a twisted support beam. "Good call. We can discuss the specifics later, though. Right now we need to focus on grabbing what we can before those scavs arrive."

"Agreed. Though I must say, watching you integrate the class abilities so quickly-"

"Chimera." Blake's tone carried a hint of warning as he ducked under a hanging cable.

"Right. Securing materials first. Analysis later."

The drop site was choked with dust, massive chunks of starship scattered like broken toys across the landscape. Blake's HUD picked out promising pieces - power couplings, data cores, and other vital components that could help repair their own vessel.

"There," Chimera said as a list of parts scrolled down Blake's HUD. "These are the critical components we need. Power distribution nodes, regulator coils, and mana capacitors. The capacitors are particularly important - they'll help stabilize the energy flow while Eland's integrated."

Blake stepped over a fallen support strut. "Anything specific about them I should know?"

"Look for purple-tinted crystal matrices in hexagonal housings. They're usually part of larger power assemblies, but we can extract them. And keep an eye out for quantum buffers - those cylinder-shaped components with the ribbed cooling fins. They're not critical, but they'll help prevent power surges."

"What about the nodes?"

"Dark gray boxes, about the size of your palm. They'll have connector ports on at least three sides. Most should be salvageable even if they're damaged - the casings are designed to protect the internal components."

The list continued to populate with images and descriptions. Thermal exchangers, plasma conduits, emergency backup units - each with their own distinct characteristics and importance ratings.

"I'm marking the most promising signatures on your HUD now," Chimera said. "The brighter the highlight, the higher the probability of finding what we need."

Blake pulled a tightly rolled bundle from his pack, the synthetic material crackling as he shook it loose. The bag unfolded to nearly his height, its reinforced straps and multiple compartments perfect for hauling salvage. He cinched it around his shoulders, testing the weight distribution.

"This'll slow us down on the return trip," he said, "but we need everything we can carry."

He approached a promising section of hull, his HUD highlighting a power coupling nestled between two support struts. The metal groaned as he wedged his fingers into the gap. His enhanced strength made the work easier, but the components weren't designed for easy removal. The coupling eventually came free with a metallic snap, revealing pristine connector ports beneath years of accumulated grime.

He moved to the next target - a bank of crystalline capacitors glowing faintly purple in their hexagonal housings. These required more finesse. Blake traced the edges with his blade, carefully separating the delicate crystals from their mounting brackets. Each one went into a padded compartment of the bag.

Sweat dripped down his back as he worked. A regulator coil had fused to its housing, requiring him to cut through the surrounding panel piece by piece. His arms burned from the effort, but the component was too valuable to leave behind. When it finally came free, he examined the intricate copper windings before adding it to his growing collection.

Blake wiped more sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, leaving a dark smudge across his olive skin. His arms ached from wrestling with the stubborn components.

Chimera's avatar shimmered into view, a translucent figure perched on a piece of twisted metal. "While you're digging through all this, I've compiled two lists you might find interesting."

Blake grunted as he yanked free another power coupling. "What kind of lists?"

"The first is a set of materials I can use to fabricate custom ammunition. Higher penetration rounds, specialized projectiles - that sort of thing. Could also improve that blade you're carrying." She gestured at the knife in its sheath. "Turn that little utility piece into something with real bite."

Blake paused his scavenging, giving the avatar his full attention. "And the second list?"

"Components for combat armor. Real armor, not just scrapped-together plates. The kind that'll stop plasma burns and deflect kinetic impacts." Chimera's form shifted, displaying a holographic blueprint of interconnected armor pieces. "These scrap fields have everything we need. With the right materials, I can craft you protection that'll actually stand up to Raz's more competent warriors."

Blake looked over the design for the complicated armor. It left him grinning like a kid at Christmas.