> August 7, 2024 - Yarra Ranges, Australia
The screen faded, and the tent fell into silence, each person processing what they had just heard. Jack leaned back slightly, exhaling.
"Well," he muttered, glancing at Captain Goodfred and Pablo. "That was a bit more than expected. How much did you know beforehand, Cap?"
Goodfred shook his head, his expression still unreadable. "I knew they were working on some big stuff, but yeah, didn’t know how big exactly." He took another sip from his thermos, his eyes still fixed on the now-black screen.
Pablo, who had been unusually quiet during the speech, finally broke his silence. His eyes were unfocused, as if he were deep in thought. "Neuro-Enhanced Virtual Reality Helmets... but how? That technology shouldn’t be in our hands by now." He paused, his brow furrowing. "We still have major hurdles with full immersion tech—primarily with neural interfaces and bandwidth limitations. What they’re talking about, even partial immersion like they said, is years ahead of what we should be capable of."
Jack frowned, leaning forward slightly. "So you're saying it's impossible?"
"Not impossible," Pablo replied, shaking his head slowly. "But it's not the kind of technology we’ve mastered yet. Sure, we’ve made strides in virtual reality, but connecting the brain to a system that simulates the sensation of controlling electromagnetic waves? That’s another level. It would require advanced neural mapping and brain-computer interfaces—far beyond anything we've seen publicly."
"Publicly, huh?" Jack said, a skeptical edge in his voice. "What do you think they’ve been hiding?"
Pablo’s gaze hardened. "But why hide it until now?" He gestured to the screen, his disbelief palpable. "And suddenly, in just a couple of days, you’re telling me they’ve gone from nothing to mass-producing these helmets for the entire world? What about the costs? The industrial infrastructure? How do you ramp up production on something like this without years of preparation? And what, more than a billion helmets in just two years? It's madness."
Jack ran a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his head around it. "Yeah, it doesn’t add up. Something that advanced, and it’s just... there, ready for rollout."
Pablo sighed. "Even if they had the technology hidden away, there’s no way you can mass-produce something so complex in a matter of days. We’re talking about billions of units if they plan to reach everyone, and it’s not like we’ve seen any sign of that kind of industrial effort before this announcement."
Jack narrowed his eyes. "So either they’ve been working on this for a long time in secret... or there’s something we’re not being told about how they got this tech."
Goodfred, who had been silent through the conversation, finally spoke up, his voice low. "Maybe it’s both."
Jack and Pablo immediately fell silent, turning their attention to the captain.
Goodfred leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as the other soldiers in the tent, sensing the shift in tone, began to listen in on the conversation.
"Whatever humanity has in store," Goodfred said calmly, "they’re being forced to bring it out now. They don’t have a choice if they want to survive this. They have to conquer The Tower. At this point, it’s not about cost or politics—it’s about how far they can push themselves to get it done. This isn’t just about showing off technology or maintaining national interests. This is about survival. Every resource, every bit of hidden tech—everything gets thrown into the mix when the stakes are this high."
The captain’s words hung in the air heavily.
"They’ll pool everything together," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "Because that’s how humans are. We fight, bicker, and screw things up in times of peace, but when we’re faced with a common enemy, we come together. Doesn’t matter if it’s countries, companies, or whatever power struggles were going on before. When survival’s on the line, they’ll bring out all the toys. Every secret, every advancement that’s been kept under wraps—it’ll all come out now."
Jack, still unsettled, pressed further. "But what about that ‘both’ part you mentioned earlier? You said it could be both—they’re hiding things and something else is going on."
Goodfred let out a dry chuckle. "You’re getting more annoying by the second, brat," he said, shaking his head. "But yeah, you’ve got a point. Look, I don’t claim to know as much as Pablo here when it comes to the tech side, but even I can see there’s something off. The leap they’ve made—it’s too big. It could be that they’ve been sitting on something extraordinary, but it also makes you wonder…"
He paused, his gaze distant for a moment before continuing. "Where did it all come from? Did this breakthrough happen because of the returnees? Did the research on those who came back from The Tower unlock something we didn’t know existed? Or… did they know about The Tower long before they told us?"
Goodfred leaned forward, his eyes sharpening. "Think about it—this Tower didn’t just pop up out of nowhere. The world’s reaction, the resources, the technology—all of it feels too prepared. What if there’s been knowledge about The Tower for years, decades even? What if some governments, or powerful groups, were already studying the anomaly in secret before it even became public? That would explain why they’re suddenly rolling out tech that feels decades ahead of where we should be. They’ve been preparing for this, and now they’re forced to reveal everything because it’s too big to hide anymore."
Pablo nodded, his voice thoughtful. "The Neuro-Enhanced Helmets, the AI systems, this seamless global coordination—it’s almost like they were waiting for this moment. Waiting for The Tower to become a public crisis so they could deploy what they’d been developing all along."
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Jack took a deep breath, then laughed. "This sounds like the kind of conspiracy theories my auntie used to rant about at family dinners," he said, his grin widening.
Goodfred chuckled too, shaking his head. "Indeed. Sounds wild, but hey, at least it makes for an interesting conversation," he said, leaning back slightly. "But yeah, let's see how fancy these new toys of the A.S.C.E.N.T. system really are.”
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
Alonso crouched low, his eyes flicking between the two massive scorpions circling him. Their metallic exoskeletons gleamed under the blistering sun, their tails twitching in unison, poised to strike.
"Alright, Houston. Two scorpions this time," Alonso said with a grin, his EM Domain vibrating with energy as he felt their movements ripple through the sand.
"You really are enjoying this, aren’t you?"
Alonso chuckled, his body instinctively shifting as one of the scorpions lunged forward. He sidestepped, letting the pincer snap through empty air, and swung his sling, launching a projectile at the creature's exposed joint. The sharp metal hit its mark with a loud clang, chipping away at the armor. But before he could follow up, the second scorpion rushed him from behind.
Without missing a beat, Alonso rolled to the side, narrowly dodging the tail as it slammed into the ground where he had been standing. The impact sent a shockwave through the sand, but Alonso was already on his feet, weaving between the two creatures as they closed in.
He leapt sideways, narrowly evading a swipe from the tail of the first scorpion, the ground trembling beneath him. The vibrations resonated through his EM Domain, feeding him information about the timing and angle of the strikes. He spun, swinging his sling at the exposed joint on the second scorpion’s leg. The projectile flew through the air with a satisfying whizz, striking the target with a sharp metallic crack. The scorpion stumbled but kept moving.
Alonso’s feet barely touched the sand as he ducked and rolled, a gleeful grin spreading across his face. He was a blur, weaving through the chaos of pincers, claws, and tail strikes. The Simulation was in full gear, running dozens of scenarios simultaneously, narrowing them down to the most optimal path. Every twitch of the scorpions' bodies, every tremor in the sand, was mapped out in his mind.
The first scorpion lunged again, its claws coming from both sides, a deadly pincer maneuver. Alonso’s body reacted before his mind could fully process, muscles driven by instinct and calculation. He jumped into the air, using the creature’s own momentum to propel himself up and over its back. For a split second, he found himself riding the massive metallic beast, its segmented tail snapping wildly beneath him.
The desert wind whipped through his hair, and Alonso couldn’t help but laugh. The thrill of the fight, the raw exhilaration of outmaneuvering something so massive and powerful, was intoxicating.
The scorpion bucked beneath him, trying to shake him off, but Alonso held on just long enough to drive his sword into the joint where the tail connected to the body. Sparks flew as the blade bit into the exposed metal, severing vital components. The tail twitched once, then fell limp, slamming into the sand with a heavy thud.
Alonso launched himself off the scorpion’s back, rolling through the sand just as the second scorpion lunged again. Its tail struck where he had been a second earlier, sending up a spray of sand. Alonso sprang to his feet, muscles coiled, his mind racing with anticipation. The second scorpion was faster, its claws snapping dangerously close to his side.
The Simulation flashed in his mind: a pincer coming from the left, a tail strike from the right. Alonso moved like lightning, dodging to the side and sliding through the sand, his sword flashing as he severed another joint on the second scorpion's leg. The creature wobbled, its balance faltering, and Alonso didn’t waste the opportunity. He dashed forward, spinning through the sand, loading his sling with practiced ease. With a quick release, the projectile flew straight at the scorpion’s head, striking it with a sharp crack.
The impact disoriented the beast, its claws swinging wildly as it tried to regain control.
In that split second, Alonso felt the world slow down. His EM Domain pulsed, feeding him every vibration from the ground, every shift in the scorpions’ movements. He could sense the exact moment when the first scorpion, now tail-less and furious, would strike again. He saw the trajectory of its claws in his mind before they even moved.
He smiled.
Alonso dove forward, slipping between the two scorpions just as their attacks collided in mid-air. The sound of metal clashing against metal rang through the desert as the creatures’ pincers locked together, their bodies momentarily tangled.
In the chaos, Alonso sprang upward, his sword slicing cleanly through the already damaged joint on the second scorpion’s leg. The limb fell away, and the creature crashed into the sand, its movements becoming slower, more erratic.
Still grinning, Alonso jumped back, just narrowly avoiding the first scorpion’s desperate strike. He pivoted on one foot, using the momentum to hurl another projectile at the weakened joint on the second scorpion’s tail. The rock hit with a satisfying crunch, and the tail spasmed before falling limp beside the creature’s body.
The second scorpion was done. It collapsed, its legs twitching weakly in the sand.
Now, only one remained.
The first scorpion, tail-less and enraged, charged at Alonso with terrifying speed. Its claws snapped furiously, aiming to crush him in its grip. But Alonso was ready. His EM Domain predicting the scorpion’s every move. He danced around its strikes, each movement calculated, each dodge executed with perfect timing.
The creature lunged again, claws slamming into the sand where Alonso had been standing just a moment before. In one fluid motion, he ducked beneath the scorpion’s body, his sword flashing as he sliced through the final vulnerable joint. The creature shuddered, its remaining leg giving out as it collapsed into the sand.
With a final flourish, Alonso drove his sword into the scorpion’s underbelly, severing its last functioning limb. The massive creature let out a metallic screech before going still, its body slumping into the sand, lifeless.
Alonso stood there for a moment, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling with each breath. The heat of the desert pressed down on him, but the smile never left his face. His muscles ached, but it was a satisfying ache—the kind that came after a hard-won battle.
“That was the fifteenth, right?”
“And what, you wanna brag to me, really? Any slightly wrong move and you would be meat paste by now.”
“Why worry about wrong moves when I see them before they happen? The real satisfaction, Houston, is knowing every move I make is the best move.”