> August 3, 2024 - Kerala, India
What?!
Abhijit gazed around, confused. Home? He touched his belly—no blood, no pain. His body was whole, unscathed. His mind struggled to process the sudden shift. A moment ago, he was agonizing as he slowly died from a hole through his stomach, and now... he was here.
His vision began to clear, and the familiar surroundings of his family home came into focus. The warm, earthy tones of the walls, the smell of spices in the air, the distant sound of a temple bell ringing in the evening—it was all so vivid, so real. But how?
Then, as his eyes adjusted, he saw her. His mother stood there, her face a mix of shock and overwhelming relief. “Mom?” he whispered, the word escaping his lips as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Am I... am I dead?”
His mother’s eyes welled up with tears as she rushed to him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. “No, my son, you’re not dead,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “You’re home. You’re back home where you belong.”
Abhijit could feel her warmth, the familiar scent of jasmine in her hair. It felt so real, so tangible. He blinked rapidly, trying to comprehend how this could be possible. He had been on an unknown trail, facing certain death. But now, here he was, in his mother’s arms, safe and sound. How?
His mother pulled back slightly, her hands still on his shoulders. She looked into his eyes with a mix of pride and sorrow. “You must have gone through so much. But it’s all over now. You’re safe, and you’re home,” she said softly, her voice full of reassurance. “You’re a hero, Abhi. A hero of our country. Do you know? There are fewer than 200 Indians still inside The Tower, out of the hundreds of thousands who entered. You were strong my boy… you were very very strong.”
Hero? The word felt strange to him. Just moments ago, he was fighting for his life, and now he was being called a hero. His mind was still reeling from the shift. But as he tried to process it all, something else caught his attention—a presence that made his heart skip a beat.
Two men stood near the entrance to the room, both dressed in dark uniforms. They were armed, their expressions stern, but they remained still, almost as if waiting. Abhijit’s heart raced. Why were they here? What was happening?
His mother noticed his gaze and followed it to the men. She smiled, though there was a hint of tension in her eyes. “It’s alright, Abhijit. They’re here to help you. You’ve been through a lot, and they just need to take you for the check-back procedure. It’s something all returnees go through. They’ll bring you back soon, and everything will be fine. I promise.”
Abhijit nodded slowly, still trying to piece together what was happening. Check-back procedure? He didn’t fully understand, but his mother’s calm demeanor gave him some comfort. He trusted her, even if his mind was clouded with confusion.
The guards approached him, one of them gesturing for him to follow. “Mr. Sharma, we need you to come with us,” the man said, his voice firm but not unkind.
Abhijit glanced back at his mother, who gave him a reassuring nod. “Go, Abhi. It’s just a formality. I’ll be here when you return. And so will your father and brother. They would be thrilled when they hear about this.”
With a deep breath, Abhijit complied, his legs feeling oddly weak as he stood. The guards flanked him on either side as they guided him toward the door. His mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything, but he couldn’t resist the urge to look back at his mother one last time before they led him away.
She smiled at him, the tears still glistening in her eyes. “Everything will be fine,” she mouthed silently.
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
He woke up again. Morning already. He felt… stinky.
As his eyes slowly adapted to the bright sunlight hitting his face, Alonso took stock of his condition. His body was caked in dried blood, but there was something else too—a gray ooze or dark sweat, whatever it was, clinging to his skin and clothes. It was dried now, but the stench was unbearable.
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He tried moving, his muscles stiff and aching, but it was more manageable than before. The pain was still there, but dulled, like a distant echo. He could move without feeling like his body was going to tear apart.
He sat up slowly, wincing as his joints protested. His mind was clearer now, and he realized just how close he had come to death. The enhanced regeneration he’d gained had saved his life—there was no doubt about that. A normal human would have succumbed to his injuries long before morning, even with the best medical intervention. But here he was, alive, bruised, and battered, but alive.
He scanned the beach around him. The sand was undisturbed except for the spot where he had collapsed. There were no signs of any new threats, no creatures lurking in the shadows. For now, at least, he was safe.
He forced himself to stand, his legs shaky but steady. He needed to clean up, to get rid of the stench that clung to him. The ocean wasn’t far. He glanced toward the waves, knowing he’d have to face the water again, despite the unpleasant memory of the nasty, big, fat leech biting his ankle. But there was no other choice. He couldn’t stay like this.
With slow, deliberate steps, he made his way to the shore. The cool water lapped at his feet, and he hesitated for a moment, scanning the surface for any signs of danger. Nothing. Just the gentle rhythm of the waves.
He took a deep breath and waded in, the cold water a shock to his system but also a relief. He scrubbed at his skin, trying to wash away the grime and the stench. The saltwater stung his wounds, but he gritted his teeth and kept going, determined to get clean.
As he rinsed off the last of the gray ooze, he felt a small sense of renewal.
He stood there for a long moment, just letting the waves roll over him, feeling the sun warm his back. He was alive. That simple fact was enough for now.
But then he felt it—a small, irregular vibration coming from the sea. His instincts kicked in, adrenaline surging through his veins. With a burst of strength, he jumped up, propelling his entire body out of the water in an instant.
As he reached the peak of his jump, he saw it: a leech, identical to the one that had attacked him before, lunging at him from beneath the surface. Mid-air, Alonso swung his sword with swift precision. Though his momentum was weak, the blade still found its mark, slicing through the leech and sending it hurtling toward the beach several meters inland.
He landed back in the water with a splash, but didn’t hesitate. He rushed out, his feet hitting the sand as he made his way toward the writhing creature. The leech was squirming on land, struggling to move in an environment that was not its own.
Alonso’s face was dark, his expression cold and unyielding. Without a second thought, he drove his sword into the leech, pinning it to the ground.
“Not this time, leech,” he muttered, his voice low and cold. “Not this time.”
With the creature now motionless, Alonso pulled his sword free, wiping the blade on the sand. He stood there for a moment, catching his breath, before crouching to absorb the orb.
> Stage 1 - 1.242%
He wiped the last traces of the leech's blood from his blade and turned his gaze to the horizon, the calm waves now deceptively serene.
His clothes, still damp and stained from the previous day’s ordeal, were lying in a heap near the water’s edge. With a sigh, Alonso gathered them up and draped them over a sun-warmed rock to dry. He stood there, naked once again, with his sword in hand and nothing else. The vulnerability of the situation struck him, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had no idea how to fashion new clothes from the surrounding materials, and even if he did, he lacked the tools and the patience to attempt it—not to mention how uncomfortable the finished product would likely be.
For now, he had three options to grow stronger: kill leeches, kill panthers, or train. Each path had its own set of challenges, but the goal was clear—he needed more orbs and to sharpen his EM wave abilities.
Killing leeches was a straightforward option—not an appealing one, but not too dangerous either. The creatures were fast and deadly in the water, and without any metallic components in their disgusting anatomy, they were nearly impossible to trace precisely. Still, Alonso had a hunch they were attracted to blood. With that in mind, he could potentially devise a trap to lure them out of the water and catch them, fisherman-style.
The panthers were a different challenge altogether. They were stronger, faster, and more intelligent than the leeches, with a hide so tough that even his sword had difficulty cutting through it. But they offered more substantial rewards, and each kill would push him closer to his goal. The downside was the sheer effort required to take one down—he would need to be in peak condition to face them again.
Then there was the third option: training. Perfecting his EM waves, honing his motion sensor, refining his abilities until they became second nature. This was the most time-consuming option, but it was also the safest. Training could be done here, on the beach, where he had a clear line of sight and could minimize surprises.
Alonso glanced at the drying clothes, then back at the sun. He was alone, exposed, and far from any semblance of civilization. But he was alive, and that was something. The weight of Abhijit’s death hung over him like a dark cloud, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. He had to keep moving forward, no matter how bleak things seemed.
“You know, you forgot the fourth way.”
Alonso’s face darkened. He closed his eyes.
“Ok, let’s get leech fishing then.”