Alonso stepped out from the dense jungle, his boots sinking slightly into the soft sand as he finally reached the beach. The air was cooler here, a welcome change from the oppressive humidity of the forest. He paused, taking in the view.
The waves rolled in gently, their rhythmic movement almost hypnotic. The sun, now low on the horizon, cast a warm, golden light across the water, turning the surface into a shimmering expanse of liquid gold.
Each wave caught the light differently, reflecting it in a dance of colors that ranged from deep amber to soft pink. The sky above was a mix of fading blues and emerging purples, the first stars just beginning to peek through the twilight.
Alonso took a deep breath, feeling a rare sense of calm wash over him as he watched the waves. The contrast between the peaceful beach and the danger lurking in the jungle was stark, yet somehow it made this moment of tranquility even more precious.
“It’s nice to be back,” he murmured, smiling as the gentle breeze brushed against his face. He noticed footsteps behind him—Abhijit had just stepped onto the beach as well.
Alonso turned slightly to glance at Abhijit, noting the relief on his face as he took in the peaceful scene. The tension from their trek through the jungle seemed to melt away as they both stood there, letting the calmness of the beach settle over them.
“Looks like we made it back in one piece,” Alonso said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of satisfaction.
“Yeah,” Abhijit replied, his voice softer than usual. “It feels... different here. Safe, almost.”
“For now,” Alonso agreed, though his mind was already turning over what their next steps should be. The beach offered a temporary respite, but he knew better than to let his guard down completely.’
After a brief silence, Alonso turned to face Abhijit. “We should use this time to rest and prepare. We’ve seen what this first phase of the trials entails—what I’d call the ‘worm zone.’ To get through it, we need to improve our detection and deflection skills. Both depend on how well we control our EM waves,” he said, glancing around the coast. “There are plenty of coconuts here, so we won’t run out of food or water for a while. It might get monotonous and probably unhealthy to rely on a single diet, but we don’t have many options. We should prepare as much as needed, but not stay too long—otherwise, the diet could become a physical burden.”
“Agreed,” Abhijit nodded, then looked at the setting sun. “But there’s something else on my mind. Do you think the night will change anything?”
“That’s a good question, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it. For one, we don’t rely on sight anymore, so the absence of light won’t be an issue. As for new creatures appearing at night… I think it’s unlikely, but if they do, they’ll probably be in the jungle, not on the beach. And if I’m wrong, well… just deal with them when they come. Learning to rest while your EM waves are still active is essential. Try to sleep in a quasi-resting state where your EM naturally emits waves and wakes you if there’s something moving in your direction.”
Abhijit looked at him with a puzzled expression. “You mean like setting an alarm? But—”
“You’ll figure it out,” Alonso interrupted. “Anyway, I’m going to head off. We can regroup here in the morning.”
Abhijit opened his mouth to say something but then hesitated. “Good night,” he said after a moment.
“See you tomorrow,” Alonso replied as he walked away along the shore.
Alonso found a spot well away from their meeting place. While Abhijit seemed like a decent guy, Alonso preferred to train in solitude, free from that nagging concern in the back of his mind.
He located a coconut tree and sliced a couple of them open to fill his belly slightly, bemoaning the lack of variety as he ate. Damn, I miss some fried chicken, sushi, noodles—anything but more coconuts.
He finished eating and tossed the empty shells aside. Then he sat down on the sand, facing the sea, and took a deep breath.
“Alright, Houston, let’s get started. What do we know so far?”
“Worms are pretty miserable when it comes to giving stage progress.”
“Hahaha, yeah, I was just thinking the same. Would you look at that.”
“...”
“Oh, come on. So, yes, the orbs from the worms—the first ten give a decreasing progress from 0.010% to 0.001%, and after that, they just keep giving the latter with no noticeable decrement. Right now, having killed 48, we have a current progress of 1.093%. Now, the question stands: even if the progress is low, should we expect that the benefit from these worm orbs remains constant forever? And two, are the worms respawning continuously, or is there a fixed, limited number on the island? In other words, if we kill them all, is that it, or will they respawn again?”
If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“You’re thinking too much in video game terms. While the stage progress suggests a linear progression through the trials, if we look at the current setting—whether it’s Earth or a perfect replica—it’s realistic, even down to the magnetic field. Given that, why wouldn’t the worms behave like real creatures, not spawned artificially but born and reproducing like any other life form?”
“Well, that’s true. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is this: can we achieve infinite progress just by continuously killing worms? If I really get into it, I could kill more than 500 a day. That translates to a 0.5% improvement, or roughly a 50% boost from my current state. If I can do that, then whatever trials lie ahead would be much easier, don’t you think?”
“Hm… Whichever entity designed these trials is, by all means, smarter and more resourceful than you’ll ever be. So, I doubt the orbs from the worms will give unlimited progress—it would break the carefully planned progression of the challenges.”
“Makes sense. So the question is: what’s the limit?”
“A good guess could be 55 or maybe 100.”
“55 because it brings the net progress to 0.1%, right? Makes sense. But that means I’m just a few worms away,” Alonso said, standing up with a grin as he stared at the darkening jungle. “Why don’t we find out?”
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
> August 2, 2024 - Melbourne, Australia
"Dear citizens of the world, I make you this promise: We will persevere. We will face this challenge together, with the strength of every one of you. We will climb. You will climb. I will climb!"
The transmission finished.
Pablo and Jack kept watching the screen as a reporter’s voiceover concluded, "Thank you for listening. Please stay tuned for further updates." The screen then faded to black.
“So… where’s Alonso?” Pablo asked, confusion etched on his face.
“I think they have no idea,” Jack replied, attempting to take a sip from his beer, only to find the bottle empty.
“But she just said they didn’t know anything until now? So what—what do they know about them, then?” Pablo asked, his frustration rising.
“Well,” Jack shrugged, then grabbed Pablo’s beer and took a deep gulp. “Apparently, they completed the first tier, so that’s something. And there’s a 77-day delay before the next ascent, which seems to involve another massive teleportation.”
“Again, that doesn’t answer the question of where he is,” Pablo pressed.
“Well, seems we won’t know for another 77 days,” Jack said, reclining back on the sofa. “So, no more camping out at the site, I guess.”
“You seem awfully calm about all this,” Pablo berated him.
“And you seem awfully worked up about something you can’t do anything about,” Jack replied, his tone serious as he stared at Pablo. “The Tower brings everyone back after they die. From that, I’d say they don’t mean harm. Actually, the fact that Alonso is still in there might be good news.”
Pablo frowned and sat back as well. “I get your point. Climbers who’ve passed the Dark Room are practically celebrities now. And after this speech… I could even get jealous of him.”
“Yep. The guy’s gonna come out with a fully recovered leg, stronger and smarter than any human, and with electromagnetic superpowers to boot.”
“Damn, and here I was just worried about the dude. Lucky bastard,” Pablo chuckled, reaching for his beer, only to realize it was missing.
“Cheers,” Jack smiled, handing the beer back, only to receive a playful shove in return.
“So, do you reckon any of us is gonna be part of Gen-2?” Pablo asked.
“Gen-2… oh, you mean in the next wave of random climbers? Well… according to what she said, that’s not a certainty. The Second Ascent may only be for those already inside and—”
Pablo was checking his phone, half-listening to Jack, when his eyes suddenly widened. “Well, hypothesis or not, they’re taking it seriously…”
He showed Jack the screen on his phone.
Jack frowned when he saw the headline and then took the phone from him, reading the paragraph below.
"Australia Halts Conventional Education: New Programs to Focus on Climber Preparation"
> The Australian government has announced an immediate shift in focus for higher education institutions across the country. For the next 77 days, universities and colleges will suspend their conventional programs and concentrate exclusively on specialized courses designed to address the challenges posed by The Tower. These courses will include physical training, survival tactics, advanced cognitive exercises, and comprehensive education on the physics of electromagnetic waves. The curriculum will delve into the theory behind using EM waves for sensing and navigation, equipping students with the foundational knowledge necessary should they be selected. Additionally, several military training centers will open to the public, offering specialized courses in combat and endurance. The government's aim is to ensure that those potentially chosen in the next wave of climbers are fully prepared with the skills and knowledge required to face the unknown trials ahead.
Jack looked up from the phone, his expression serious. “What the hell… since when did the government act this fast? This… is this even official?”
Pablo nodded, still processing the information. “Yeah, it’s all over the news. It’s like they flipped a switch right after the speech.”
“Damn… and I thought COVID was crazy,” Jack said, resting his head on the back of the sofa and staring at the white ceiling. He then glanced at Pablo. “I need another beer.”