She froze, scanning the words as her pulse began to steady. Whatever this was—whoever was guiding her—it wasn’t done yet.
New Achievement: Curb Stomping.
“CONGRATULATIONS, TECHNAV!” The voice blared suddenly, mechanical and distorted, as if filtered through a failing comms unit. Zaria jumped, her heart pounding against her ribs. The disembodied voice carried on, oblivious to her startled reaction.
“You have earned your first Technomantic Enhancement: Worn Out Boots. These boots grant increased agility and reduce energy loss during rapid movement. Use them wisely! You have kicked the scrap out of a minion using only your lower appendages. You have received a pair of Worn Out Boots: A pair of old, scuffed boots that have seen better days.”
A snarky, disembodied voice echoed in her mind: “Please refrain from kicking any of your fellow TechNavs in their genitals. They don’t all keep them in the same place.”
New Achievement: Alive and Kicking.
“Congratulations, TechNav. You have completed your first encounter. Your reward is granted, but its secrets will only be unlocked by a Game Mentor. Seek your mentor and progress.” +1 Problem Solving (creative solution), +1 Luck (because let’s be real, you needed it).
Zaria’s breath hitched as the glowing text before her eyes flickered and dissolved, leaving a faint blue afterimage in its wake. She blinked rapidly, trying to ground herself, and instinctively glanced down. Her jaw fell open.
Her boots—her dependable, regulation-issue Sol Coalition Forces boots—were gone. In their place, a pair of scuffed, battered boots clung to her feet, their soles uneven and their laces fraying like they’d seen more battles than she had. The leather was cracked and weathered, and a faint metallic sheen clung to them, almost as if they were alive.
“What the…” she muttered, lifting a foot to inspect the bizarre footwear. A distinct sense of unease settled over her as she wiggled her toes. They felt sturdier than they looked, yet utterly foreign. There was no way these would pass the rigorous standards of her Sol Coalition inspections—not even on laundry day.
The cavern was silent except for the faint hum of energy still clinging to the air after the explosions. Zaria spun around, searching for some explanation, but there was no one. Nothing but the bioluminescent fungi pulsing softly along the cavern walls.
Her fingers twitched at her sides as she forced herself to think logically. This had to be some kind of system reward, right? Some Nexus Trials gimmick? Before she could dwell on the absurdity of it all, a sharp crackle cut through the quiet, the sound bouncing off the cavern walls like an echo in a tin can.
The words hit her like a sledgehammer. Her bewilderment deepened as she stared down at the boots, their worn appearance now taking on a surreal significance.
“Worn Out Boots?” she said, her voice rising incredulously. “You mean these ancient things?” She gave a tentative stomp, half-expecting them to disintegrate. Instead, they responded with a strange, almost imperceptible vibration under her heel, sending a tingle up her leg.
Before she could process what that meant, the voice cut in again, louder this time, filling the cavern with its commanding tone. “Prepare for your next challenge, TechNav. The Nexus waits for no one.”
Zaria’s head snapped up, her pulse quickening once more. The walls seemed to tremble slightly, as if alive with the energy of the announcement.
“Well,” she muttered to herself, adjusting the boots with a resigned tug at their fraying laces. “Guess I’m stuck with these until I figure out what fresh hell is waiting for me now.”
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Attention: The final TechnoNavigator has entered the Nexus Arena. The Training Level is now open to all new TechNavs. You have 364 galactic standard pulses to complete the training before the training dimension returns to the Great Void. To exit, you must locate a Game Mentor and complete all training tasks. Only a Game Mentor can certify training as complete. Once certified you must then locate a portal off of the dimension.”
Game Mentor? Zaria’s mind spun, but the System AI voice continued, its tone shifting into a bizarre, upbeat pitch.
“To find a Game Mentor, follow the illuminated markers in the arena. You’ve got this! Keep pushing forward, TechnoNavigators. End of transmission.”
Zaria sighed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as she crossed her arms and scanned the cavern. “Fantastic,” she muttered under her breath, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for all the guidance, mysterious disembodied voices. Truly enlightening.”
Her eyes swept over the jagged walls, searching for anything resembling an exit. She froze, realization settling heavily on her. The battle with the Scrappings had left her completely disoriented, every direction blurring into an indistinguishable mass of shadows and glowing fungi. Her stomach twisted, a familiar pang of irritation prickling at the edges of her thoughts. Of all the challenges she could’ve inherited, why did it have to be spatial dyslexia?
She frowned, muttering to herself. “A lousy sense of direction. Couldn’t be something useful or curable, could it?” Her fingers brushed the hem of her lab coat in a subconscious attempt at comfort, but even its familiar texture did little to ease her annoyance.
Squinting into the gloom, her gaze caught something—a faint glow, pulsing softly in the distance. She took a cautious step forward, and another flicker appeared, slightly ahead of the first. A series of subtle markers, leading to what appeared to be a narrow passageway. She hadn’t noticed the exit before, and now it almost seemed to beckon her.
Her lips twisted into a wry smile. “Have you been talking to Master Sergeant Reynolds?” she asked the empty air, her tone edged with reluctant amusement. The resemblance to the guidance lights Reynolds had insisted on installing aboard the Horizon Seeker was uncanny. Zaria could almost hear her no-nonsense voice barking an explanation about safety and efficiency.
Reluctantly, she stepped toward the trail, her boots crunching softly against the cavern floor. The lights pulsed in response, dimming and brightening in a steady rhythm, guiding her forward. She shook her head, the familiarity of it all settling uneasily in her chest.
Just as she reached the first glowing marker, a soft chime echoed in her mind, halting her mid-step. Blue text materialized before her eyes, floating with an eerie calmness that made her stomach drop.
“Great,” she muttered, staring at the notification. “Now what?”
Lootable Scrappings: Collect rewards for defeating the swarm of Scrappings.
She hesitated, glancing at the pile of scraps. Curiosity got the better of her, and she kneeled, picking up a small, glowing void capsule from the remains.
Lootable: Low-Grade Energy Core:
Usable as a power source for small devices or as an emergency energy supply.
Fascinated, she inspected another piece.
Lootable: Patchwork Plating:
Light armor with basic damage resistance (rare).
Zaria’s fingers closed around the strange items, their surfaces cool and unfamiliar against her skin. She quickly stuffed them into the folds of her lab coat, her eyes flicking toward the faintly glowing exit. Another noise shattered the relative silence—a sharp clatter, metallic and echoing, like the Scrappings had multiplied in the shadows.
Her pulse jumped, and without hesitation, she spun on her heel and sprinted toward the light. The dim, bioluminescent glow of the cavern walls blurred as she moved, her boots pounding against the uneven ground. Each breath was a quick, ragged draw, the stale, mineral-laden air burning in her lungs.
There wasn’t time to linger, to analyze the strange loot or ponder its significance. She didn’t need to look back to feel the weight of the darkness pressing in, its ominous presence urging her forward. The nagging itch of unanswered questions buzzed in her mind, but she shoved it aside.
Find the Game Mentor. Figure out the rules. Survive.
The passage narrowed, forcing her to duck under jagged outcroppings. The glowing markers seemed to pulse faster now, guiding her steps, their rhythm