> August 7, 2024 - Yarra Ranges, Australia
The crisp morning air bit at Pablo’s skin as he emerged from his tent, the scent of eucalyptus mixing with the quiet efficiency of the camp. Soldiers moved in calm precision, their gear clinking softly, while radio chatter hummed in the background.
Pablo stretched, yawning as he spotted Jack by the fire, sipping from a tin cup.
"Sleep at all?" Pablo asked, still groggy as he joined him.
Jack shook his head. "Barely. You?"
"Not much," Pablo said, dropping onto the log beside him. "Kept thinking about yesterday’s briefing.” He sat down next to Jack. “I mean, one night you’re enjoying a hike with your pal, and the next thing you know, you’re back at the summit with a whole military setup just waiting for his return because he’s suddenly one of the most dangerous humans alive."
Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, life’s got a way of taking sharp turns like that. By the way, grab some coffee or tea from the big tent over there. The guy serving it’s pretty chill."
Pablo sighed, glancing over at the tent. "Might as well. This whole thing’s too surreal to deal with half-asleep." He stood, stretching again before making his way across the camp.
The scent of coffee greeted him as he entered the tent. A soldier handed him a cup with a silent nod. Pablo took a sip, letting the warmth clear the last remnants of sleep from his mind. As he headed back to Jack, he couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at him.
He sat back down, blowing on the coffee. "Any updates?"
Jack shrugged, staring into the fire. "Nothing yet. They just said to make ourselves comfortable, and, well, wait."
Pablo glanced around the camp. "You ever think about how crazy it is? Waiting like this for someone we used to know so well, and now he’s…"
"Yeah," Jack interrupted, taking another sip. "It’s wild. Makes you wonder who we’ll be looking at when he comes back."
"You saw it, right? How Alonso had those breakdowns as he went through the floors. I mean, they’re trying to paint The Tower as some opportunity for greatness with all these speeches and preferential treatment for the climbers, but it's cruel. Especially for Gen-1. What the hell? They get thrown in with no info, not even knowing they can die and come back. They just push forward, facing increasingly brutal trials. The passing rate says it all. Out of a million, barely a hundred remain."
"And that bastard’s still in there," Jack muttered. "I knew he was tough and smart, but now he’s officially made it. Even if he comes back right now, he’ll be a celebrity in Australia—maybe even worldwide."
"Well, after he passes whatever SRP they’ve got lined up for him," Pablo sighed, glancing around the camp.
"On another note, there seems to be an important update later, also from the UN? I think it’s at 3 or 4 p.m. our time," Jack said.
"Oh, you mean when they’re gonna announce the online training sessions and all that?"
"Yep," Jack nodded. "And talking about the UN, doesn’t it feel weird? Why are they suddenly the center of attention now? Seriously, I never had a good impression of those useless bureaucrats who never acted when they should. I thought they were just the Seppos' dogs, and now—boom—they’re the world government."
Pablo chuckled. "I’m sure a lot of people share your thoughts, but it makes sense, at least from an official point of view. Now that we’re dealing with some alien-shit, it can’t be just one government making the calls."
"Well, whatever," Jack said, getting up. "Let’s go. They’ve got some breakfast stuff ready. And," he grinned, "it’s all free."
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
“Damn, is its brain hidden or what?” Alonso grumbled as he continued prying deeper into the scorpion’s metallic carcass. He had already dug more than half a foot into its hard shell, and now his hand was elbow-deep in its slimy, alien innards. The smell was foul, the texture even worse, but he pushed through, finally making contact with the orb buried deep within the creature's core.
Stolen novel; please report.
> Stage 1 - 1.632%
“Only 0.030%?” he muttered with a sigh, removing his bloodied arm from inside the scorpion. His arm was smeared in a vivid blue liquid—its blood, apparently. The stark contrast between the blood’s bright, almost neon hue and the creature’s dark, metallic exterior made him pause. “Bright blue, huh? Wonder if that’s normal for scorpions, or if it’s just for this freak.” Not that it mattered much.
Alonso wiped his arm on the nearby sand, watching as the bright blue blood mixed with the grains, staining them in strange, unnatural patterns. The energy he had gained from absorbing the orb was barely noticeable—a minor boost at best. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. He knew that it wasn’t just one creature that gave the big boost. No, it was hunting all 49 of them.
Wait… he had to do that 48 more times!
“Yeah, sucks to be you.”
“You are me, Houston.”
“Anyway, what’s the plan? I reckon you should just leave the carcass there. While its metallic exoskeleton offers great potential for gear manufacturing, it would just add more weight to your backpack at this point.”
“Yeah. Now that I know what to expect, I guess the plan is to farm some more of these things and then forage the last one before heading back to the beach. But," Alonso groaned, “so much work and running. It’s gonna be a couple of long days.”
“Well, you can always just keep moving forward and die if that’s what you want.”
Alonso chuckled, shaking his head as he stared out into the horizon. "Yeah, I’ll pass on that option, thanks."
He stared for a while at the massive carcass of the scorpion.
“Well, it’d be a shame to leave these behind, though. I lost two good rocks,” he grinned as he carefully dismantled some sharp, broken parts of the creature’s metallic exoskeleton.
After tucking the scavenged pieces into his ammunition bag, he walked over to where he had tossed his backpack, slung it back over his shoulder, and resumed his trek through the desert. He had only covered about two more kilometers when his EM Domain detected another disturbance beneath the sand.
Once again, he threw his backpack aside. He stretched, loosening his muscles, and prepared for the next 'dance' with his latest guest.
The ground rumbled as another scorpion burst from the sand, this one just as large and menacing as the first. Alonso's EM Domain tracked every minute movement, every subtle shift in the creature's approach. His mind immediately switched to combat mode, and his EM Simulation skill kicked in, running countless scenarios in his head, calculating the best responses.
Without wasting any time, he scavenged the sharp metallic projectiles from the first scorpion, gripping one in his sling. As the scorpion lunged toward him, claws snapping violently, Alonso hurled the first projectile straight at its frontal armor, aiming for its most vulnerable spot.
The projectile hit with a loud clang, embedding itself into the creature’s thick exoskeleton but failing to break through. The scorpion didn’t slow; instead, it charged forward with alarming speed, its claws crashing down toward him.
Muscles tensing, Alonso’s EM Simulation flashed the optimal path. He shifted his weight slightly onto his left foot, pivoting just enough to avoid the crushing pincer. The scorpion’s claw whistled past, grazing his hide vest before slamming into the sand with a thundering crash, leaving a deep groove where he had stood.
He calmly reloaded, his mind already running calculations. He aimed for the exact same spot on the scorpion’s head and, with a swift movement, hurled the second projectile. This time, it struck deeper, cracking the armor but still not reaching its brain.
The scorpion retaliated with another lunge, its tail whipping forward in an attempt to impale Alonso. But he was already in motion, dodging to the side with minimal effort, his body reacting instinctively as the Simulation showed him the safest path. The stinger missed him by a hair's breadth, and Alonso didn’t lose focus.
“Third time’s the charm,” he muttered, already loading the final shot.
The scorpion reared back, ready for a final, desperate strike. Its claws snapped wildly as it prepared to charge again, but Alonso was quicker. In a single, fluid motion, he launched the third projectile. It whistled through the air, striking the cracked armor in the exact same spot as before.
The impact was perfect. The force of the blow drove the projectile all the way through to the creature’s brain. The scorpion’s body seized up, its momentum halting mid-lunge. Then, with a final, violent shudder, it collapsed into the sand, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Alonso stood for a moment, watching as the creature’s legs twitched before going still. His body relaxed, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“That was almost too easy. And the path to the brain’s already open. Aren’t I a genius, Houston?” he grinned, the smile spreading across half his face.
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that. I’m sure it’ll end well.”