Korl and his group had been in the middle of stalking three crabs for food, he hated the things but they did taste alright.
His friend Carlo was an ambush predator, he was fast but he had been caught off guard in a bad way when the announcement had come through from every speaker in earshot. He had completely frozen in the middle of the hall, distracted from the crabs right in front of him.
The man’s words didn’t have the same effect on the crabs. It was a starting gun that launched them into a frenzy. They leaped on Carlo, and shredded him beyond what Korl had thought impossible at such speed. The crabs then halfheartedly attacked the rest of the group and blew past them, down the hallway.
He had checked Carlo, it was too late, even if Korl had tried to use the last of their Medjel. Tule’s hand on his shoulder had brought him back to the present. If there’s one thing all Humans in the Lab understood, it was that grieving is best done very quickly, much later, or not at all.
The man on the speakers, named Jack, had put out a call to take the Core. It wasn’t the first time this had been brought up but it had never been done like this. He remembered the direction the crabs had run to. They were heading to the Core. It was really happening.
While his group of 4 journeyed to the Core they had picked up and merged with stragglers from other groups; they meshed well, none of them had any major prior feuds. There were now 4 different groups that had joined together and each of the 11 sported some type of injury although nothing serious.
It had taken a bit of maneuvering and a few close calls but they had, to their moderate surprise, managed to place themselves right behind the fastest swarm. The group had figured that the roaming Hordes had merged into Swarms. The crabs were being called to the Core. They could occasionally see the larger swarm on the primary road to their right having trouble maintaining top speed as open doors and corridors stripped off pressurized crab swarm.
Keeping directly behind the swarm was helping them make great time. It cleared out any obstructions as well as handled the navigation for them. The primary problem were the Swarms and Hordes that had been trying to join up with the swarm in front of them. Slowing down wasn’t an option. If they didn’t arrive before the big Swarm in the middle they’d be screwed.
The last one to join had been alone. He said his family had been ambushed by crabs before even the announcement and had been wiped out. He had a pink gauntlet that was extremely useful even if the shield on it was on the small side, like a buckler. The most important thing about it was that the crab’s claws couldn’t pierce it, at all. The young man, Devin, had put it to good use once they convinced him to take a position in the back. Their feet continued to beat down the hallway.
Tule, his closest companion, called out. Korl caught a flash of another horde before the metal walls closed around them again.
Korl’s eyes widened as all the paths lead through a single room. Three main roads led to the beginning of the Core run, the center one, which was the largest, and another one, like theirs, on the far side. All three poured into a wide storage space at the same time. The ground crawled. It was going to be a photo finish.
Tule continued, “I don’t think, whoever is going to be there, is going to be expecting all these crabs coming down on them.”
“What can we do then?” They were all injured, if they made it there after the swarms had picked the area clean; well, they would shortly follow those poor souls to the After.
“We have to start working through the mass ahead of us and breakthrough. If we arrive after the three swarms we’ll be trapped between them and however many other things that are out there.”
“Shit,” Tule gave him a reproachful look, “well damn then.”
He did make a good point though. Korl saw him take out Horn’s Toothpick. It was an odd blade, definitely not his style and definitely not Human-made.
He had no idea where the Lab was, much less where the blade could have come from. The Terminal Store’s description was weird too, it didn’t sound like the words were originally Human tongue. the grammar was all off.
The Toothpick was sharp on both sides, a length and a half longer than his forearm and with a forward bend at roughly the 2/3rds point. It also cut spectacularly well. The harder the material it was put against the more the blade would vibrate. It would either cut or it would send a backlash through the wielder’s arm.
He smiled, he had helped Tule save up for it, his status had give him the opportunity to chip in Chits. He was surprised when it happened but Tule had managed to scrap together the 600 Chits that were required. Korl would have preferred a blade that was longer and straight but he put in enough time with the art of the sword with his own straight blade to be able to appreciate Horn’s strengths.
Korl and Tule looked at each other with a grin. “Somebody watch our back.”
They pushed further ahead and started cutting through the mass ahead of them.
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“That was another Wandering Horde, these are… unfamiliar patterns. Nothing that should concern us though.”
“So it is.” A chorus of ‘so it shall be’ came back, not loudly but backed by steady hearts. Nods and firm stares met his eyes.
His entire Clan was OTM. When he first heard the announcement he had pushed to immediately prepare to depart for a Core Run, as the Youth called it, its proper name was the “Path of Heaven or Hell.”
When he had heard the voice over the speakers he had wanted everyone to take what was necessary to fight and to depart immediately. The other Elders were shocked at his brazenness, they had tsked, hemmed, and hawed until the doors to their HQ had been flung open and made impossible to close again.
He had led his Clan for over 25,000 cycles and he was tired. Each day wore on him a bit more than the last. Each day there was less of everything. It had been getting worse since before his Elder’s Elder’s Elder.
He was just the most recent person to catch the “hot potato.” That was an old saying that each Clan Head would say to the next to emphasize the role’s importance. As Clan Head, it would be the height of impropriety for him to not be able to recite the entire Honored Kintu Clan’s Complete History.
The Kindu Clan had been larger before their departure, much larger; every Elder, except him, had chosen to take the Right of Sublimation, an honored act of sacrifice for the growth potential of the Clan.
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The other Elders, those old fools, at least found some outlet for their cowardice that wasn’t completely self-serving. There was a reason he had risen from orphaned Cryo-child to Clan Head, past all those half-wits and their spawn. To think he spent all those years and all that effort outmaneuvering them.
In the end, of course, any clan member who had refused to hold a weapon when the Right of the Phoenix was called could be forced to take the Right of Sublimation. This was upheld in the application and Judgement of The Clan’s Ritual History.
Some Elders had chosen to make the journey difficult by taking the easy Path, Sublimation. No one said he had to make it pleasant for them.
Sick, pregnant, young, old, strong, weak, no one who couldn’t fight had stayed behind. No one stayed behind.
He knew them all by name and took in every face that looked to him now. A total of 134 in the Battle-Group, active and reserves, not including the 45 elite Sentries, operating in pairs and small groups that ranged out from the main body. In the middle of the Battle-Group was the Strength of Our Youth; 25 of their Youth, from 5 of their youngest, unnamed who couldn’t yet speak, to those on the cusp of adulthood that carried the unnamed on their backs. Everyone who Ran today carried a weapon, no exceptions.
199, ready to fight.
This. Now. The Clan was stronger and leaner than they had ever been in the Current Era, it relit a fire he long thought burnt to ash. From the ashes will rise the Phoenix of The Clan’s Rebirth, a sacred time of peril, death, and opportunity. A memory of his youth floated to the front, of the sector-wars and fighting for control of the Cryo-Bays. Hand-to-hand combat against the crabs and against other Humans.
“Sentinel,” her name was Leanne, he remembered her as a child, always a serious one, even then. She was a Cryo-born child like him, a rarity, and now leader of the Sentries, “I want us moving faster, much faster. We have wasted too much time.”
“Aye, Clan Head.” Their pace quickly built back up and grew faster still. He smiled. It was the first time in countless cycles that he was something more than tired. Finally, that impetuous kid “Jack” had given him an opportunity to stop the slide, if he had been Clan he would be running at his right hand now.
He knew the lessons of the past Rights of Rebirth, he was ready for whatever was next, whatever the cost. Things would change or he would be dead and it wouldn’t be his problem anymore. This Path or the Next, Death was not the End.
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They had kept it quick at the Terminal, neither too keen on staying in the haunted-cryo-bay. As they traveled down the hallways their path darted through turns and intersections. From every corner came the echo of claws scrabbling on metal. It had gotten louder and louder before they couldn’t avoid the crabs any longer and found themselves fighting through random hordes.
Jack had managed to get to level 16 after placing Magno-Tube after Magno-Tube into the Terminal. He smiled, the Terminal had sounded smug as it ate through his first three Magno-Tubes to recoup his “debt.”
Instead, he shoved that smug attitude right back up its Tube input by the time he had finished stuffing it with Tubes 5-8. He had waited on inserting the last two until the screen had started to populate.
He had been testing if the Terminal AI could actually see him so he had kept a smirk on his face the entire time. He didn’t care how he looked taunting the Terminal, it felt good.
Apparently, Yuma had found a few Magno-Tubes for herself along the way, he thought that she had gotten up to 14 or 15.
He could have sworn that he had spied her dropping a few points in EQ. It didn’t seem like an optimal choice but it was her Allocation.
They were keeping a solid running pace through hallways and larger corridors, killing crabs and avoiding others. She was calm but there were still flashes of edginess to her personality when it came to him, he hadn’t asked about her Personnel Level or Skills because he didn’t want to push as they had finally started to approach the home stretch. If he needed to know he’d ask at the time.
Taking his focus off of her; he had guessed right before, his throwing ability had leveled to v.2, it gave him overall better hand dexterity mostly directed towards the muscles responsible for releasing projectiles. Not much but he would take it, anything that improved fine muscular control without requiring him to place extra Allocation towards Dexterity was fine by him. Even if it didn’t specifically give him any bonus Allocation to Dex.
LumberJack improved to v.2, Hack was stronger. If he Hacked at something and his strike was completely blocked or stopped, the kinetic energy would rebound back into his arm and allow him to launch another Hack immediately. He tested it several times as they ran, but no crabs were able to stop the increased momentum of the first swing, much less a second. He tried to aim a Hack at the pincer-claws but he couldn’t hit it flat. Whenever it hit at an angle his claw-blade would break or shatter.
He didn’t want to waste time finding the perfect angle. He would remember to try it later.
Consecutive successful Hacks would decrease the strength by roughly half each time. For his arm muscles to reset and build up tension again he wouldn’t have to stop swinging completely but regular attacks still slowed down the overall reset rate, and repeated Hacking would extend the total reset period.
He could tell that there was more under the surface of the skill that he didn’t know and probably wouldn’t know until he used it in some specific way; despite the unknown aspects, he was very ok with its upgraded power and utility. It stressed his arm muscles at best and he could tell that messing it up in a big way would injure him much more seriously.
Electric Affinity added better electrical transfer speeds and according to the Terminal AI, “based on Personnel Usage Statistics,” it would focus on the development of higher capacity and faster-discharging cells in areas that frequently experienced transfers and discharges.
EA also had some sort of “cross development” that gave significantly increased transfer and discharge speeds while he was in Take You to Hell With Me. V.3 of TYHWM also gave him a developing “threat detection matrix,” he was still trying to parse that out completely but his working theory hoped that it meant he wouldn’t try to hunt down Yuma. Or at least she would be lower on the priority list.
He also got a new Skill called “Moving Equilibrium,” it wasn’t much but v.1 it helped him maintain a better sense of mental equilibrium while moving. Something about increased blood circulation and purification properties when blood flow was increased to the brain by exertion. It also said something about the blood-brain barrier and interactions with his other Skills. As far as he understood it, as long as he was running he would be less likely to lose control.
Cold Blooded was weird and not completely unwelcome. Finger dexterity improved in the state. It also Reinforced nerve relays in the forearm, wrist, and palm meaning better brain signal quality to the hands and forearms as well as redundancies. His hand or arm up to his elbow would have to be completely severed for no brain signals to get through. His personal experience with severed limbs told him that it was a valuable upgrade.
After both of his “state” Skills had gone up to v.3, he was really trying to not think about it even despite the useful upgrades. He liked Upgrading but leveling up those skills still made him feel uncomfortable. In an odd moment, he idly watched his subconscious take a look at the unpleasant thought and then toss it to rest underneath a mental blind spot.
The best part was the Allocation, he had gotten 5 points when he hit 10 and then another 5 at 11. It had decreased at each level so Personnel Level 12 gave him 4 Allocation, Personnel 13 gave him 3, until 15 when he got 1 Allocation automatically assigned to all stats. That was welcome. At 16 it went back up to 1 Allocation. So by Personnel 19, his Allocation would get back up to 5. He briefly wondered how much Allocation level 20 would give.
With 20 total Allocation, it felt kind of ridiculous. There almost weren’t enough things to improve. Almost.
Since everything got an extra Allocation, Strength got 5 and Endurance got 4 to max them both at 20. He had been somewhat distracted by where he was and what he still had to do after so the glorious waves of heat had caught him off guard. Upgrading Strength and Endurance were his favorite feelings. Strength hadn’t made him look particularly more muscular, although it did a bit. He did notice that he felt “heavier,” or maybe it was “denser.”
When Endurance had hit 20 his body heated up and started to pour sweat, it felt like he had suddenly felt the accumulation of running and 200 miles of fatigue. On the brink of passing out an intense sense of ecstasy had him floating on a cloud until Yuma shocked him back to reality.
He noticed that after the Terminal room Yuma had been acting weird along with her bouts of edginess but he chalked it up to the Terminal AI doing or saying something weird. Had she leveled up Cannibal? Would she level up Scaredy Cat next?
Despite her reluctance to talk with him, which Jack did not pick up on, he blew through her silence. He figured it was probably painful for her to speak, but he still had questions.