After the first 10 minutes of scavenging work, things started to get hard.

Blake's throat burned from where the scout had nearly crushed his windpipe, and he swallowed another curse as fresh pain lanced through his shoulder. The adrenaline from the fight had faded, leaving him all too aware of each new injury he had earned.

Chimera's diagnostic overlay painted a vivid picture: torn muscle fibers in his deltoid, darkening bruises along his ribcage, and overstretched tendons that screamed with every motion. There was apparently hostile shadow mana still lingering in his system, but Chimera assured him it was being steadily cleansed.

None of his injuries were immediately life-threatening, but the combined toll was beginning to affect his performance.

He forced himself to breathe through it, letting years of combat experience take over. Pain was just information. Information could be processed, categorized, and worked around. His body might be complaining, but it wasn't failing. Not yet.

Blake watched the dust storm eat the horizon. A massive wall of red-brown death, climbing into the sky. His display showed the wind speed. Rising fast.

Worse were the dust plumes. Multiple hostiles. His [Warden's Insight] continually analyzed the movement—light vehicles weaving between the wreckage. Fast. Maneuverable. Perfect for this hellscape.

The scavengers weren't being subtle. They were boxing him in.

"Time's running short," Chimera observed. "That storm will be on us in less than twenty minutes."

Blake moved to the next target - a crashed navigation array with promising components still attached. His HUD highlighted power couplings, regulator coils, and an intact quantum buffer.

He squeezed into the hollow beneath the angled array, fighting his bruised ribs. The parts were tangled in conduits and cables, needing careful extraction.

Wind swept the field with stinging rust and grit as the storm's edge reached them. Working faster in the reddish haze, Blake cut between components with his knife.

A power coupling snapped free. After a quick check, he pocketed it. The regulator coils were harder - their brackets had partially melted. He sawed through the warped metal quietly but quickly.

Movement caught his eye - shadows moving through the thickening dust. His enhanced perception picked out details: four figures in scavenged armor, moving with practiced coordination. They carried an assortment of weapons - mostly energy weapons similar to what the scout had used, but he spotted at least one projectile rifle that looked capable of punching through vehicle armor.

Blake went still, letting his enhanced senses track their movement. They were sweeping the area in a standard search pattern, checking likely salvage spots. Their helmet comms crackled with bursts of static-laden chatter:

"...nothing in sector three..."

"...trace energy readings..."

"...check the nav array..."

Blake pressed deeper into his hiding spot as footsteps approached. Dust swirled around the array's bulk, reducing visibility to mere meters. Two pairs of armored boots passed within arm's reach of his position. He could hear their breathing through their helmet filters, the subtle clicks of weapons being shifted to ready positions.

"Signs of recent scavenging here," one said, voice distorted by their comm system. "Someone's been moving things around."

"Got fresh moisture marks too," another responded. "Looks like our target was here, but probably spooked and ran."

Blake's fingers flexed on the combat knife. One look under the array would force his hand. Two against one, up close and personal. Bad odds that would get worse when gunfire brought reinforcements. Patience was smarter. Let them walk away.

Something caught his eye. Half-buried in the debris near his position was a crystalline structure that made his HUD light up with urgent markers. Chimera's voice filled Blake's mind with barely contained excitement.

"Blake! That crystal formation—it's a bio-reactive lattice. The Tylwith used these to create self-repairing armor plating."

Blake's eyes fixed on the half-buried crystalline structure. Through his enhanced perception, he could see intricate patterns within—like frozen lightning trapped in amber.

"I can do so much with that material if we incorporate it into my bio-mass," Chimera continued. "Combined with some of the power couplings we've collected, I could fabricate reactive armor!"

The scavengers' boots crunched through debris overhead. Blake held perfectly still.

"The lattice would let me create armor that moves with you," Chimera whispered. "Imagine plates that harden instantly on impact, then flow like liquid when you need mobility."

Blake's fingers itched to grab the crystal, but the scavengers hadn't moved far enough away. He watched dust devils dance across the formation's exposed surface, catching hints of iridescent shimmer.

"With enough bio-mass and power, I could eventually grow it into a full combat shell," Chimera said. "Strength amplification, integrated weapon systems, atmospheric seals—everything a proper Leviathan vessel should have. But in a suit! That stuff is super valuable! Get it!"

"Keep quiet," Blake subvocalized, jaw clenched. "Unless you want us both dead because I can't focus."

The excited rambling cut off abruptly. Blake felt a flutter of embarrassment through their connection that wasn't his own.

"Sorry," Chimera whispered after a moment. "Got carried away. But that crystal really is—"

"Shh."

Blake waited until the scavengers' footsteps faded before reaching for the crystal formation. His fingers brushed against its surface, warm and alive beneath his touch. The lattice came free with a soft crack, smaller than he'd expected at about the size of a toaster.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He slipped it into his pack between the power couplings, cushioning it with a scrap of cloth. Through their bond, he felt Chimera's satisfaction pulse like a cat's purr.

Raised voices snapped his attention back to survival. The scavengers were regrouping, their boots crunching closer. His original exit route—a straight shot back to the ship—would lead him right into their patrol pattern.

Blake pressed his back against the array's bulk, Chimera providing him a map of the terrain his [Warden's Insight] had managed to capture so far. The dust storm should have reduced visibility to a murky haze, but his perception cut through it well enough so far.

Blake closed his eyes, letting the world fade away except for his connection to the mana flowing through him. He cycled it between his skills, feeling them sync and overlap. The topographical data from [Warden's Insight] sharpened, enhanced by [Unfettered Stride]'s affinity for spatial navigation.

His awareness expanded outward like ripples in a pond. Every piece of debris, every angle and surface registered with crystalline clarity. Every inch of the debris field that he had already observed with [Warden's Insight] resolved into a strange three-dimensional wireframe in his mind. The visual details were unimportant. He only needed to see gaps, ledges, and potential paths through the scrap.

There—his eyes snapped open as the solution presented itself.

A narrow gap between two massive hull sections hung suspended several meters above the ground. From his current position, he could just make out the slice of darkness where the metal hadn't quite crushed together. The opening would barely be wide enough for his bag, but it led away from the search pattern, offering a path the scavengers wouldn't expect anyone to attempt.

He eased out from under the array, keeping his profile low. The wind threw stinging particles against his face as he crept toward the gap. Metal groaned overhead, debris shifting in the strengthening storm.

"Check that section again!" A voice carried through the wind. "Manameter just pinged something!"

Blake squeezed into the gap between two crashed ships, their hulls pressed together like fallen giants. The passage twisted like a canyon, forcing him to turn sideways and carefully manipulate his bag to avoid it getting stuck. His bruised ribs protested each careful movement. Twice he bumped his damage shoulder and nearly screamed.

Blake's pack dug into his injured shoulder, the weight of salvage threatening his balance with each step. The crystalline lattice shifted against power couplings, forcing him to adjust the straps. His boots scraped metal as he moved, each sound amplified by the narrow passage.

Light filtered through gaps in the wreckage ahead. Blake froze as voices carried over the wind—the scavengers were spreading out, methodically checking hiding spots.

A pile of loose debris caught his attention. Small pieces of scrap metal balanced precariously, ready to fall. Blake reached out, testing the weight of a curved piece of hull plating.

He lifted the metal carefully, muscles burning from the strain of his loaded pack. The debris pile looked unstable enough that a single disruption would trigger a cascade.

Blake drew back his arm and threw. The piece of hull struck true, hitting the base of the pile. Metal crashed against metal in a deafening collapse. The sound cut through the howling wind easily.

"Over there!"

Boots crunched through debris, moving away from Blake's position. He pushed forward, the weight of his pack forcing him to duck-walk beneath a twisted support beam. Sweat ran down his face despite the wind's chill. His legs trembled with each careful step.

More voices joined the first, discussing the source of the noise. Blake kept moving, fighting the urge to rush. Speed meant noise. Noise meant death.

Blake's legs shook as he crouched behind a twisted support beam. His muscles quivered, forcing him to pause. The sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.

Numbers and bars flickered at the edge of his vision. Blake blinked sweat from his eyes, focusing on the display. His stamina bar had dropped to thirty percent and continued to tick down.

"Chimera?" Blake whispered. "What's going on?"

"I don't think you noticed how dense some of the material you picked up is," she replied. "That pack probably weighs about 60 kilograms. You're trying to sneak around carrying someone on your back."

Blake shifted the pack, reassessing its weight with fresh understanding. Sixty kilos. Over a hundred and thirty pounds of salvage strapped to his back. He'd been so focused on collecting valuable components that he hadn't registered just how much weight he'd accumulated. The strain on his injured shoulder made more sense now.

A thought struck him.

"Would it be a bad time to use some of those free attribute points?"

"As long as you stay hidden for about a minute while the changes settle," Chimera said. "The process shouldn't make any noise or visible effects."

Blake shifted deeper into the shadows of his hiding spot, wedging himself between two chunks of hull plating. He pulled up his status screen and studied his attributes for a moment.

* Strength: 12

* Intent: 14

* Willpower: 14

* Agility: 22

* Alacrity: 23

* Resonance: 8

* Vitality: 12

* Adaptability: 21

* Resilience: 12

* Perception: 20

* Awareness: 21

* Affinity: 19

He had grown accustomed to the feel of each number, their significance resonating deep within him. Blake glanced at the highlighted section that revealed his unallocated points—eight in total, waiting for him to decide their fate.

He'd play it safe for now. Keep something in reserve. Four points went to strength - that was enough. The prompt flashed, his vision blurred, and then it hit him. A cool tingle, like ice-water in his veins, spread through every muscle. Made him feel solid. Ready. The feeling slowly faded over the course of a dozen seconds.

When he stood up again, the bag felt comfortable. A quick check of his stamina showed it slowly crawling upwards again. Blake smiled. He had learned to enjoy his time at the gym, but it might soon become a purely recreational activity.

Blake pushed off from his hiding spot, the pack's weight now balanced and comfortable across his shoulders. He kept low, moving with practiced efficiency through the debris field. The scavengers' voices faded behind him as he wove between twisted metal and fallen beams.

His [Warden's Insight] painted clear paths through the wreckage, letting him spot stable footing before each step. The storm's edge churned overhead, but he maintained his heading straight toward Eland's ship.

"Not bad for a morning's work," Blake said, ducking under a fallen support strut. "You happy with what we grabbed?"

"Happy isn't the word I'd use." Chimera's voice held an edge of excitement. "Are you ready to see what I can do with reactive armor? The crystalline lattice alone would be impressive, but combined with those power couplings—" She paused. "I can't wait to start fabrication."

"Sounds like you've got plans."

"Oh, I do. But what about you? Looking forward to taking a few less hits?"

"Definitely. Let's just keep the color scheme in check. I don't want to walk around in red and gold."

"Why," Chimera asked slowly, sounding confused and maybe even slightly offended. "Why in the world would I make it red and gold?"