> September 5, 2024 - Melbourne, Australia
It had been a chaotic and disorienting few hours for Pablo. Not only had Captain Goodfred and his team been abruptly reassigned—without so much as a briefing—but an entirely new crew had taken their place. And that wasn’t the strangest part. The most unsettling aspect was the rapid construction of a base, right before their eyes, with technology that felt like it belonged to another era altogether. This wasn’t some makeshift military setup, either.
Massive modular blocks had been airlifted in by helicopters, dropped with precision into place. Upon landing, they unfolded, expanded, and locked into one another seamlessly, transforming into fully functional compartments in minutes. It was like watching entire buildings grow from metal seeds, the blocks expanding silently into rooms, corridors, and communication hubs—all without the clatter of conventional construction.
Then, there was the mysterious young woman. She’d arrived under the cover of darkness the night before, stepping out of a chopper with her stark blonde hair and an odd, opaque mask concealing her face. She hadn’t spoken a word, just walked straight into the first of those strange, expanding modules and vanished inside. Pablo hadn’t seen her since.
The new personnel were unlike anything he had ever seen. Dressed in black from head to toe, they moved with precision and discipline, but they wore no insignia or identification of rank or squad.
It all felt surreal, like being caught in the middle of a high-budget sci-fi movie.
Who were these people? What kind of operation was this?
The only briefing he and Jack had received came from the man who had arrived with the mysterious white-haired woman.
His words, simple yet commanding, echoed in Pablo's mind:
“There’s been a change in personnel assigned to Sugarloaf’s Temporary Base. I’m Étienne, second-in-command. For most matters, I’ll be your point of contact. Your new quarters will be on-site soon; current tents are being dismantled as we speak. All necessary supplies will be provided—meals included. Compensation has been adjusted to $100 an hour, with an additional $10,000 bonus upon mission completion. You’re expected to maintain operational discretion. We’ll reach out if you’re needed.”
That was it. No explanations. No timelines. Just the cold hard facts—new rooms, better pay, and a clear expectation of silence. Étienne had left as abruptly as he arrived, leaving them standing there, unsure of what to make of it all.
And now he was here, in this sleek, white room, staring at the absurdly expensive supercomputer tucked neatly in the corner. It wasn’t just some fancy piece of hardware; this thing had specs way beyond anything he’d ever seen, and it wasn’t just for running programs. Integrated with MAI, the AI system seemed to have its hands in everything. From the room’s temperature to humidity, it could tweak even the smallest detail to create the “perfect” environment. Hell, it could even regulate oxygen levels depending on how much he moved or how long he stayed inside.
Pablo found it unsettling.
Why did anyone need that kind of control? Was it just for comfort?
He had never seen or heard of technology this advanced, not even in the military. This was decades ahead of anything the public—or even most governments—had access to. It felt like being watched by a ghost, one that could manipulate every aspect of the space around him.
And it made him wonder: who the hell were these people? This wasn’t just some military or government project anymore. The sudden focus on Alonso, the rapid construction of this high-tech base, the white-haired woman with the mask, the eerie level of control—none of it added up. Why all this effort for one person? Who exactly was Alonso to them, and why was the operation centered around him? Sure, there were only 65 people left in The Tower, but…
As his thoughts ran wild, he heard MAI speak to him:
“Pablo, you have been requested by Commander Étienne in compartment C2. Please head there immediately.”
Huh?
He noticed the screen on the PC suddenly displayed a small map of the base, highlighting his room and compartment C2, showing the exact route he needed to take.
He was slightly taken aback by the fact that orders were now being issued through MAI. It was a stark contrast to before, when MAI had been solely focused on his own needs and had no interaction with Captain Goodfred or the previous crew.
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In any case, he dared not be late. He stepped through the self-opening doors and into the corridor, where he saw Jack just emerging from his own room.
They exchanged worried looks but said nothing. Together, they continued down the hallway until they reached the so-called compartment C2.
The door to compartment C2 slid open silently as they approached, revealing a spacious room with minimalist design, cold and clinical. In the center stood Commander Étienne, his posture rigid, flanked by two other figures Pablo didn’t recognize.
“Gentlemen,” Étienne began, his voice as calm and controlled as ever, “we have new orders. Effective immediately, you’ll be assisting with the next phase of the operation.”
Pablo and Jack exchanged glances.
“Your primary objective remains unchanged,” Étienne continued, “but we’ve received intelligence suggesting that Alonso Shemson’s return may be imminent—within the next 1 to 2 hours.”
What?! Alonso was coming back? But… how did they know? Was it from information gathered from other climbers that had died? Had Alonso gotten into trouble? A fight? Monsters? Other climbers?
“You have your instructions,” Étienne said, snapping Pablo out of his thoughts. “Prepare for his arrival. And remember—this operation is now classified at the highest level. Any breach of protocol will be dealt with severely.”
The instructions had been simple enough: as soon as Alonso appeared, they would be called in to interact with him normally. Their job was to reassure him that everything was fine, keep things calm, and mention to him the Standard Returnee Protocol. They were to explain that nothing had changed and that his return was expected. A standard procedure for any climber coming back from The Tower—but this didn’t feel like any standard situation. Not with the secrecy, not with the sudden change in personnel, and certainly not with the eerie, futuristic tech they were surrounded by now.
image [https://i.imgur.com/EPU265m.png]
Ayu felt her heart tighten as she passed by, catching sight of Alonso in a heated argument with Chiara. She couldn’t understand a word of English, but she didn’t need to. The tension was obvious, the sharpness in their voices unmistakable. Alonso was fucking out of his mind.
Defeating Siddharth? That was a fantasy. A complete delusion. It simply could not happen, especially not for someone like him—a newcomer to the Oasis, with barely enough time to train under a higher stage progress.
She watched from afar as Alonso walked away, a serious expression on his face. He went straight to her place and shut the door behind him. And then… nothing.
Five long hours passed. He was still inside, and for reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she couldn’t bring herself to go after him.
Why… why are you so stubborn, fool.
The time had come. She could see the people of the Oasis gathering at the small circular space in front of the rocky path, where this kind of duels were held.
Her heart began to race, pounding harder and faster with every passing minute. Anxiety clawed at her insides, tightening her chest.
Why does it feel so harsh? Why do I care so much for an idiot who refuses to listen?
She inhaled deeply, trying to regain control over herself. Her emotions were all over the place. If she didn’t calm down, she wouldn’t be able to make any good decisions. She had to pull herself together, march up to Alonso, and knock some sense into him—even if it meant beating him senseless to make him understand.
But no matter how hard she tried, the calm never came.
“Dammit!”
The hell with it. She charged toward her cabin. She would make him understand—the good way or the bad way.
But just as she neared the door, it opened.
She froze, unable to react as Alonso stepped out.
He wore nothing but softened hide pants, and a sheath at his side with the sword in it. That was all. No shirt, no armor—not even his buckler.
But it wasn’t the lack of protection or his sculpted, bare chest that made her heart race. It was his eyes. The moment he looked at her with that piercing gaze, a chill crept up her spine, and for some reason, she felt… fear?
Alonso nodded to her and offered a smile, his gaze softening, and only then could she breathe again.
What had just happened? What the hell was that?
He walked closer and sent her a mental image of a happy face, a thumbs-up, and then an image of himself raising his sword in victory.
He moved beside her, staring at the arena not far ahead.
Wait! What am I doing? she thought, panic bubbling up. I have to tell him—
But before she could finish the thought, she felt a hand on her shoulder. Strong, yet gentle. The weight of it… it felt just like her father’s arm when she was a child, right before he stepped into the ring for his Muay Thai matches.
Alonso looked at her, and his gaze said everything she needed to hear.
Trust me, Ayu. I will win.
And without a word, he walked away.