Space Colony Huachipato XIV
Chile-Sigma Solar System
Year 2499
Lautaro’s Omni-Wheat Farm
- "Shutting down the energy grids is our only hope if we want to prevent the invaders from consuming the entire colony. However, with the overwhelming power they possess, it’s impossible to face them head-on. We’ll have to be stealthy," Mateo said, his face more serious than I had ever seen before.
Lautaro, overwhelmed by the situation and concerned for the fate of his colony and his friends, quickly planned out which grids each of them should disable.
- "I’ll go to grids A, D, and G. Mateo, head to grid C—it’s protected by a code that only the foreman in that sector knows. Find him or hack it, it’s your call. Elena, go to grid D—it should be the furthest away from the invasion."
While this plan seemed the most logical, it had one significant flaw: grids A, D, and G were visible from the team’s current position, and the view was terrifying. The invaders could be seen in the distance, and Lautaro felt a deep fear in his core. He was in the presence of beings that his mind couldn’t comprehend—his eyes could barely process the invaders' forms.
- "Lautaro, you can’t go alone—you’ll die. You saw what happened to the omni-wheat when those things touched it," Elena said, clear worry in her voice.
- "Lau, let’s go together to grid C, and then we’ll hit A, D, and G. It’s too dangerous to go solo," Mateo said, locking eyes with Lautaro, knowing that if his best friend went alone, he might not make it back.
- "Guys, I know it’s risky, but there’s no other way. We won’t cover enough ground if we stick together. Grids A, D, and G are practically next to each other, and I can use the underground tunnels that connect them. It’ll be quick," Lautaro said, trying to sound confident, even though doubt was gnawing at him, wondering if he’d make it out alive.
- "Trust me. Everything will be fine. After we’re done, we’ll meet at the south bunker!" Lautaro added, giving his best confident look as he gave one final instruction.
Elena’s lips pressed into a thin line, her sharp green eyes scanning Lautaro’s face, looking for any hint of uncertainty, but all she saw was determination. She sighed, shaking her head, knowing there was little chance of changing his mind.
- “Alright, but be careful, Lau. If anything goes wrong, you call us immediately. No heroics,” Elena said firmly, gripping his shoulder as she prepared to leave.
Mateo hesitated, his analytical mind already running countless scenarios, each more dangerous than the last. He adjusted his glasses and gave Lautaro a slow nod.
- “I’ll head to grid C, but you better stick to those tunnels. If you try to face those things out in the open, we’re all dead. You get it?” Mateo’s voice was calm, but there was an underlying urgency in his tone. He wasn’t just worried about Lautaro—he was calculating the odds, and right now, they weren’t good.
Lautaro forced a smile, but deep down, he felt the weight of the mission. He was trying to stay calm, trying to keep that thin thread of hope alive, but the invaders were unlike anything they had faced. Their very presence warped reality itself, and Lautaro’s mind struggled to even grasp their form—shifting, ethereal creatures made of pure energy, their tendrils lashing out and consuming everything they touched.
As he watched his friends prepare to move out, the weight of responsibility sank deeper. He had to succeed, not just for the colony, but for them—for Elena and Mateo, who had always been by his side.
The tunnels beneath the colony were cold, damp, and narrow, lit only by the faint emergency lights that flickered overhead. Lautaro moved quickly, his footsteps echoing in the confined space. The plan was simple—reach grid A, disable the energy source, then move on to D and G. But in the back of his mind, doubt crept in. What if the invaders found him before he reached the grids? What if he couldn’t shut them down in time?
As he approached the first junction leading to grid A, the ground trembled. Dust and debris fell from the tunnel’s ceiling, and Lautaro froze, heart racing. He could feel them—above ground, drawing closer, their energy distorting everything around them.
He pressed on, his breathing shallow as the tunnel opened up to the first energy grid. Grid A loomed ahead, a large, mechanical structure covered in conduits and control panels. It hummed with power, and for a moment, Lautaro hesitated. Disabling it would leave parts of the colony defenseless, but he knew they had no choice. If the invaders consumed the energy, the entire colony would be lost.
He rushed to the control panel, his fingers moving swiftly over the buttons. A red light blinked, signaling the grid’s shutdown process. Just as the last sequence activated, the ground trembled violently, nearly knocking Lautaro off his feet.
An overwhelming pressure filled the air, so thick he felt like he was breathing through water. He froze, his gaze snapping toward the tunnel’s entrance as the walls rippled unnaturally, warping in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. And then he saw it.
A tendril of energy slid through the air, flickering, ethereal, its form barely visible in the dim light. The invaders had found him.
Lautaro’s pulse raced, his body instinctively backing away from the control panel. His mind screamed for him to run, but he knew it would be futile. The tunnel was narrow, with little cover. The tendril moved with unsettling grace, twisting through the space as though it were alive—searching for him.
It came closer, brushing the tunnel walls and leaving a shimmering, distorted trail in its wake. Lautaro felt a tightening in his chest, the pressure from the tendril’s presence making it hard to breathe. His muscles tensed, and for a moment, he couldn’t move—paralyzed by the sheer incomprehensibility of what he was witnessing. These creatures, their very existence, was an affront to the laws of nature as he knew them.
The tendril drew nearer, its movements slow but deliberate, as if savoring the hunt. Lautaro gritted his teeth, refusing to let fear take hold. His mind worked quickly, scanning the area for any advantage. He spotted a set of pipes running along the tunnel’s walls—old infrastructure that connected the power grid to the deeper sections of the colony.
Without a second thought, Lautaro dove toward them. The tendril reacted instantly, lashing out, barely missing him as it struck the ground where he had stood. Energy rippled through the floor, sending shockwaves up through his legs as he rolled out of the way.
His heart thundered in his chest as he pressed his back against the pipes, trying to catch his breath. The tendril swayed, momentarily confused, but it wouldn’t be long before it found him again. The air crackled with energy, and Lautaro knew he had only seconds.
He turned his attention to the pipes—ancient, rusted things that had been neglected for years. But maybe, just maybe, they could still serve a purpose. His hands fumbled at his belt, pulling free a small multi-tool. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to loosen the bolts holding the pipes together.
The tendril flared, sensing his movement. Lautaro’s hands moved faster, unscrewing the last bolt just as the tendril surged forward, striking toward him. In a final desperate motion, he ripped the pipe free from the wall, twisting it toward the tendril with all his strength.
The invader’s energy met the pipe with a blinding flash. The force knocked Lautaro back, but the metal—old as it was—served as a conduit. Sparks flew as the tendril’s energy was absorbed, redirected into the pipes, which groaned and shuddered from the overload.
For a split second, the invader’s tendril flickered violently, its shape distorting as if it was struggling to maintain its presence. Lautaro pushed forward, using the momentary opening to scramble toward the control panel once more.
The red light blinked steadily on the panel. Grid A was offline. He had done it.
But the invader wasn’t finished. As the tendril writhed, still fighting the energy surging through the pipes, it coiled itself tighter, preparing to strike again.
Lautaro didn’t wait. He darted toward the nearest tunnel exit, his muscles burning as he sprinted, each step echoing in the narrow passage. The tunnel twisted and turned, the air growing colder as he descended into the underground pathways that connected grids D and G.
He hadn’t stopped running when he heard the unmistakable crackle of energy behind him. The invader was following.
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Lautaro pushed himself harder, his lungs screaming for air as he navigated the maze of tunnels. The glow from the invader’s tendril lit the passageway behind him, casting eerie shadows that seemed to stretch and twist with every step.
There was no time to think, no time to plan. His mind was focused on one thing: survival.
The tunnels began to widen as he neared grid D, the second of the energy sources he needed to disable. He could see the control panel in the distance, bathed in the same ominous red glow that had signaled the shutdown of the first grid. But the invader was close—too close.
Lautaro skidded to a stop in front of the panel, his hands shaking as he began the shutdown sequence. The hum of the grid faded, replaced by the low growl of the invader behind him. It was almost upon him.
Without hesitation, he slammed his fist against the panel, initiating the final sequence. The second grid flickered off, plunging the tunnel into near darkness.
But the invader was already there...
The tunnel plunged into darkness as Grid D powered down, leaving only the faint glow of emergency lights casting long shadows. Lautaro’s breath caught in his throat as the low hum of the grid was replaced by an eerie silence. But the silence didn’t last long. Behind him, the faint crackle of energy intensified, growing louder with each passing second.
He turned, his heart pounding in his chest. The invader’s tendril had returned, glowing brighter than before, coiling through the tunnel like a predator that had finally cornered its prey. Its movements were more erratic now, almost agitated. The invader could feel its grip on the colony slipping, and Lautaro was the one who had caused it.
Lautaro didn’t have time to think. He dove to the side as the tendril lashed out with a vicious crack, missing him by inches. The force of the impact sent sparks flying, the heat from the tendril singeing the air around him. His body screamed in protest, his muscles aching from the exertion, but he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t slow down.
He scrambled to his feet, eyes darting toward the tunnel leading to Grid G, the final energy source he needed to disable. It wasn’t far, but the invader was relentless, the tendril now twisting and striking with a fury that sent tremors through the ground.
As Lautaro sprinted down the tunnel, the narrow passageways gave way to a larger chamber. This was the heart of the energy grid, the source that powered the last defense of Huachipato XIV. The control panel for Grid G stood at the far end of the chamber, glowing faintly in the dim light.
Lautaro didn’t have a choice. He had to disable it, no matter the cost.
He dashed toward the control panel, his hands reaching for the familiar buttons that would initiate the shutdown sequence. But just as his fingers brushed the surface, the tendril struck again—this time faster, stronger.
It hit him square in the chest.
The force of the blow sent Lautaro flying backward, his body slamming into the cold, hard ground. Pain shot through him, radiating from the point of impact as the invader’s energy surged through his veins. He gasped for air, his vision blurring as the tendril wrapped itself around him, its energy coiling tighter, hotter.
Lautaro’s mind screamed for him to fight back, to move, to do something—but his body was frozen, paralyzed by the sheer power of the invader’s attack. His skin burned, his muscles locked in place as the tendril pulsed with life, invading his very being.
For a brief moment, everything went silent. The pain receded, replaced by a strange, weightless sensation. Lautaro’s mind drifted, floating in the void, detached from the world around him. He wasn’t in the tunnels anymore. He wasn’t in the colony.
He was somewhere else.
Visions flashed before his eyes—cities made of shimmering light, towering structures that pulsed with energy. He could see the invaders now, not as twisted shapes but as beings of pure, vibrant energy. They moved through this alien city with purpose, their forms shifting and morphing like living currents of power. And in the distance, at the heart of it all, a massive figure loomed—a king. The invader king.
The vision gripped Lautaro, pulling him deeper into the alien world. The king’s presence was overwhelming, its eyes glowing with a cold, calculating light. Lautaro could feel it—this was the source, the mind behind the invasion. The king wasn’t just consuming the colony; it was absorbing it, feeding off its energy, pulling it into its own reality.
And now, it wanted Lautaro.
The king’s essence flowed through him, merging with his body, his mind. Lautaro’s vision flickered, the line between himself and the invader king blurring. He could feel the power, the raw, unrelenting force of the king’s energy coursing through his veins. It was intoxicating, consuming. It whispered promises of strength, of dominion, of becoming something more than human.
But beneath the seductive pull of the power, Lautaro felt something else—fear. A deep, primal fear that if he gave in, if he let this energy take him, he would lose himself completely.
No. He wouldn’t let that happen.
With every ounce of strength he had left, Lautaro pushed back. His body shuddered under the weight of the invader’s energy, but he fought it, clawing his way back to the surface. His fingers dug into the ground, the cold, hard reality of the tunnel grounding him, pulling him out of the alien vision.
He gasped for air as the vision shattered, his body collapsing onto the ground. The tendril around him flickered, its grip loosening as Lautaro wrenched himself free. He scrambled to his feet, his body aching, his head pounding, but he was alive. He was still himself.
The tendril thrashed violently, its energy surging in frustration. It wasn’t done with him yet.
But Lautaro was faster.
With a desperate lunge, he slammed his hand onto the control panel, initiating the shutdown of Grid G. The tendril convulsed as the grid’s power went offline, the chamber plunging into near darkness. The invader’s energy faltered, its form flickering, unstable.
Lautaro staggered backward, watching as the tendril twisted and writhed, struggling to maintain its hold on this reality. And then, with one final pulse, it collapsed, disappearing into the void from which it came.
For a moment, the chamber was still. The only sound was Lautaro’s ragged breathing, the echoes of the invader’s energy still thrumming in his ears.
He had done it. The grids were down. The invaders’ power was weakening.
But the battle was far from over.
Lautaro leaned against the cold tunnel wall, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breath. His body ached from the tendril’s attack, but he had survived. The energy grids were down, and the invaders’ power was waning—but he knew this was only the beginning.
He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to push the lingering sensations of the invader king’s presence from his mind. It had been more than just a vision—he could still feel the king’s essence deep inside him, like a shadow waiting to resurface. The temptation of power, the seductive promise of becoming something beyond human, still echoed in his thoughts. But he couldn’t let it take hold. Not now.
There wasn’t time to dwell on it. He had to find Elena and Mateo.
Pushing himself off the wall, Lautaro stumbled forward, his body screaming in protest with each step. He navigated through the winding tunnels, his mind racing. He wondered if Mateo had successfully disabled Grid C and if Elena had made it to her grid without encountering any invaders. The thought of either of them facing the same horrors he had just endured sent a chill down his spine.
As he neared the rendezvous point at the south bunker, the air grew colder, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint crackle of static from his communicator. He pressed a button on the device, hoping to reach the others.
"Elena? Mateo? Do you copy?" he whispered into the device, his voice barely audible.
For a moment, there was nothing but static, and Lautaro’s heart sank. But then, a familiar voice cut through.
"Lautaro! We’re here. We made it." It was Elena, her voice strained but alive with relief.
Lautaro let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. "I’m on my way. Stay there."
As he pushed through the final stretch of tunnel, he emerged into the open air near the south bunker. The landscape before him was a stark contrast to what he had left behind—where once the omni-wheat fields had stretched to the horizon, there was now little more than charred earth and twisted remnants of the colony. The rifts in the sky still loomed, but they seemed weaker now, less chaotic, as if the power fueling them was slowly fading.
Ahead, he spotted Elena and Mateo standing near the entrance to the bunker. Elena looked battered but strong, her dark hair loose and wild from the battle, while Mateo had his back to the wall, his face pale but focused. Relief washed over Lautaro at the sight of them.
"You did it," Elena said as he approached, her eyes scanning him quickly, as if making sure he was truly okay. "We disabled the grids. What about you?"
Lautaro nodded, though his face betrayed the exhaustion he felt. "I shut down A, D, and G. The invaders—they found me. I barely made it out. But there’s something else... something I need to tell you both."
Mateo stepped forward, concern etched into his features. "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Lautaro hesitated for a moment, his mind racing with how to explain what he had experienced in the tunnels. The visions, the king’s essence, the way the invaders had tried to merge with him. He didn’t know how much they would understand—or if they would even believe him.
"It’s not just the invaders’ energy," Lautaro began, his voice low. "When I was disabling the grids, I came into contact with one of their tendrils. But it wasn’t just an attack—it was something more. I think… I absorbed part of their essence. And not just any invader’s. I saw their king."
Both Elena and Mateo stared at him, wide-eyed, as Lautaro explained the visions—the alien cities, the king’s towering presence, and the power that had tried to take hold of him. As he spoke, he could see the mix of disbelief and fear flicker across their faces.
"You absorbed the invader king’s essence?" Mateo repeated slowly, his analytical mind trying to process the implications. "Lautaro, that could explain why the invaders were drawn to you. You might be connected to them now."
Elena crossed her arms, her expression conflicted. "Does that mean they can track you? That you’re somehow... part of them?"
Lautaro shook his head, but the doubt was there, gnawing at him. "I don’t know. All I know is that I fought it—I didn’t let the king take over. But I can still feel it inside me. It’s like a shadow, waiting."
The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, and for a moment, the three of them stood in silence, the distant rumbles of the rifts the only sound in the background.
Finally, Mateo spoke, his voice steady. "We need to figure out what this means. If you have part of the king’s essence in you, there might be a way to use it against them. But we have to be careful. You’re walking a fine line, Lautaro."
Elena stepped closer, her hand resting on Lautaro’s arm. "We’ve got your back, Lau. Whatever happens, we face this together."
Lautaro nodded, grateful for their support, but the uncertainty still lingered. The invasion wasn’t over, and with the king’s essence inside him, he didn’t know what the future held. But one thing was clear—he couldn’t let the invaders win. The fate of the colony, and perhaps more, depended on them now.
"Then we move forward," Lautaro said, his voice resolute. "Whatever happens, we fight. We take the battle to them."
As the rifts continued to pulse weakly in the sky above, the three of them turned toward the heart of the colony. The final confrontation was coming, and they had no choice but to face it head-on.