Alonso lowered his weapons, his muscles aching from the intensity of the fight. He had given everything, but Chiara had remained in control the entire time. She had overridden his EM senses, stripping him of his greatest advantages: Simulation, Domain, and Fake Reality.
While he was confident in his technique, it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap against someone like her, who was effectively running Simulation, or an equivalent, and had a higher stage progress than him, giving her superior physical stats.
And that last move—that was terrifying.
Chiara’s ability to speak directly through telepathy showed an obscene level of skill, both in manipulating EM waves and understanding how the brain worked. But what truly made his skin shiver was what she did at the end, hijacking his senses of sight and hearing, just like what had happened in the white room. While he could probably replicate that given enough time and preparation—half an hour, at least—doing it mid-fight? Impossible. He had no idea how to reach that level anytime soon.
He had lost. Completely lost.
He stared at Ayu, the Asian woman who was now watching him closely. She sent him a flurry of images: a thumbs up, followed by an image of her motioning for him to follow. Then, a large red cross showing him trying to escape the Oasis, immediately followed by a literal skull emoji. Next came an image of orbs, a shark, a spider, and then a middle-aged Indian man with a bald head—Siddharth, he assumed.
Alonso's mind scrambled to translate the rapid sequence of images into something coherent. Following her seemed obvious. As Chiara had mentioned, Ayu had taken responsibility for him in front of the others, and it was clear now that she would be guarding him until Siddharth returned.
The cross and skull were equally clear: escape wasn’t an option unless he wanted to end up dead. The orbs likely referred to his need to acquire them to increase his stage progress, and the shark and spider... well, he had already seen a shark, and the spider might be in the tunnel they mentioned. Both appeared to be the new creatures lurking in the Oasis. And finally, the bald man—Siddharth. His future opponent and the key to his survival.
He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves as Ayu gestured for him to follow. His thoughts churned—orbs, creatures, Siddharth. Everything pointed to one thing: he had to get stronger, and fast. According to what Chiara said, he had two days, at least, which was a very short time, but it could be worse.
Ayu began walking, and Alonso followed her. The Oasis was oddly serene, with the sounds of distant water and the occasional murmur of voices drifting in the humid air. Yet there was an underlying tension. Every glance cast his way carried a mix of curiosity and suspicion. A prisoner. Not just any prisoner—a marked one.
They eventually reached the edge of the lake. It was tranquil, and the weather seemed perfect for a swim, but Alonso knew better. He had already seen how it took a group of three to fish out one of those pitch-black sharks.
Ayu looked at him with a smile and then sent him a series of images: him killing several sharks and collecting their orbs. Then, the number 49 appeared above them. And… that was it.
Alonso stared at her, confused, but she just smiled and stepped back, sitting on a rock a few meters from the lake. She pulled out her canteen and took a sip of water, her gaze steady on him.
Alonso remained standing, unsure of what to do. Was no one going to help him? What about the system of three for fishing? Where was his harpoon?
“You came to a peaceful community, cold-bloodedly killed three people, and now that you're a death-sentenced prisoner, you want what… people to help you hunt sharks? Just for you? Come on, you should be thankful Ayu is even lending you a hand. Maybe that naked maneuver back then was the best move of your life.”
Alonso groaned inwardly at Houston’s sarcastic voice echoing in his head. But… he was right. Then again, he didn’t completely regret his actions. Perhaps instead of following them here, he should have just escaped back to the shore. Now he was in the middle of the Oasis, surrounded by highly skilled warriors—and monsters like Chiara. There was no escape now.
Maybe I could’ve talked it out. Maybe I could’ve risked it and just knocked Oleg and the others down instead of going for the kill. Was the promise of gaining an orb tempting? Yes, it was. He couldn’t deny that deep down, after feeling confident he could win, seeing how the others wanted him to surrender, he saw the perfect chance to gather three valuable orbs for himself. But now… he might pay for that decision with his life.
“Hey, hey, no long face,” Houston chimed in. “Be a man and pump it up. You’re not dead yet, and surely Siddharth isn’t as much of a freak as Chiara… hopefully. But even if he is, you’ve got two days. A lot can happen in two days. For now, figure out how you’re going to hunt 49 sharks in record time.”
He glanced at the lake and then over at Ayu, who seemed completely relaxed, sipping her water without a care in the world, as if watching some leisurely entertainment. She had offered him a way forward, but the message was clear: he was on his own for this trial.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
It was fair. She had gone out of her way, and now she had to follow him and guard him, wasting her valuable time. He owed her.
“Then survive this and make up for it.”
Alonso closed his eyes for a moment, centering his thoughts. He put his backpack down and rummaged through it, pulling out the little meat he had left. An idea began to form—a risky, but potentially effective way to take down the sharks.
But it wasn’t going to be easy. He would have to rely on Fake Reality in ways he hadn’t before, and any mistake could mean his death. These sharks weren’t just strong; they were apex predators in this lake, relying on the slightest disturbances to track their prey. Movement, vibrations—anything would give him away.
He carefully tied the meat to a length of rope, but he didn’t throw it far. He couldn’t risk moving or making too much noise. Instead, he kept the bait close, just a few feet from where he crouched, barely allowing it to dangle in the water. He had to be perfectly still—even breathing could betray him. His plan hinged on making the shark believe the Fake Reality decoy was the real Alonso, while he remained invisible to its senses.
And this wasn’t without reason. Alonso had experimented with Fake Reality on other creatures across the island. He had discovered that all of them relied primarily on EM senses, as they had no eyes or other sensory systems. Now, he was literally betting his life that it would work with the sharks, too.
Activating Fake Reality, he crafted an illusion of himself—not standing far from the shore, but right next to him, only inches apart, as if he were leaning over the water. The key was to blur the line between where the decoy began and where his real body ended. This wasn’t about keeping distance—it was about total stillness.
Alonso lowered his heartbeat, consciously slowing his breaths to almost nothing. Not even the faintest ripple could come from him. He had to become part of the environment, letting the decoy do all the work. The fake Alonso appeared to shift slightly, making subtle movements, just enough to draw attention to itself while the real Alonso was nothing more than a shadow.
For long minutes, nothing happened. The water remained eerily calm, and the only sounds came from the distant wind and the rustle of leaves.
Then, a ripple. A faint, subtle shift in the water. It was coming.
The shark’s shadow appeared just beneath the surface, enormous and menacing. It circled cautiously, sensing something. It was drawn to the decoy.
The beast struck.
The water exploded as the shark lunged, its jaws wide, aiming for the illusory Alonso crouched beside him. The force of its attack sent waves crashing toward the shore. In that split second, as the shark locked onto the decoy, Alonso made his move.
His muscles screamed as he exploded into motion, raising his sword with both hands and driving it down with precision toward the shark’s head. But he had to strike perfectly—there was no room for error. He aimed directly for the spot where the orb should be, thrusting with all his strength.
The shark shifted just as Alonso struck, and the blade grazed its thick skin instead of penetrating deep. Dammit. The shark thrashed, sensing the real Alonso now, and its tail whipped around violently. Alonso barely dodged, his foot slipping on the slick rocks by the shore as he struggled to keep his balance.
The decoy was still there, flickering slightly, but the shark wasn’t fooled anymore. It turned on Alonso with terrifying speed, giving him only seconds to react.
He gritted his teeth and lunged again, this time aiming for the soft spot just behind the shark’s jaw. The sword pierced through, the blade sinking deep into the muscle. The shark’s entire body convulsed in the shallow water, blood pouring from the wound and spreading in thick, dark clouds around them. Alonso felt the force of the creature nearly tear his weapon from his hand, but he held on, using his weight to keep the blade lodged in place.
The thrashing continued, the water turning into a frothy, red-streaked mess, and Alonso fought to stay upright as the shark's blood painted the surface. His grip faltered for a moment, but he pressed harder, twisting the sword until he felt the blade grind against something hard. The orb.
He pushed the sword deeper, and the shark gave one final, violent spasm before it went limp, a gush of blood spilling out, staining the water around him. Panting, his body soaked in both water and the shark’s blood, Alonso let go of the sword and dragged himself away from the water's edge, barely avoiding the flailing tail.
There was no time to rest. He quickly moved to the shark’s head and began cutting into its skull, his hands shaking from adrenaline and exertion. The work was gruesome—blood smeared his fingers, and the shark’s tough hide resisted him. Fortunately, more than half of the work was done; he just had to widen the wound enough for his hand to fit and reach the orb.
He yanked it free, the glowing orb slick with blood, and felt the familiar surge of energy as it was absorbed into his palm.
> Stage 1 - 2.365%
0.030%? Same as the scorpions, it seems.
One down. Forty-eight to go.
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
September 2, 2024 - Yarra Ranges, Australia
"What?! Three suddenly died? At practically the same time?" Pablo asked, wide-eyed as he stared at Jack. Both were having their breakfast.
"Yep, and one of them was Oleg, the Russian astronaut."
"What?! The astronaut?! But the death rate was steadily decreasing, right? I mean, yesterday not even one died, and now three all of a sudden. How many are left?"
"Sixty-eight," Jack replied as he took a big bite of toast.
Pablo opened his phone and logged into his ASCENT account. Instead of continuing, he spoke directly into the phone, "MAI, what's the report on the latest three returnees?"
"They are currently under SRP. The report is not available right now."
"Hey," Jack suddenly said, "We agreed—no phones during brekkie."
Pablo scratched his head, embarrassed, and put the phone away. "Did we?"