System Administrator reviewed the knowledge with which every cadet was instructed during their first mission as they waited for their screen to connect with Sector Assimilator’s. Phase 3 was reserved for situations where an anomaly had become too powerful to easily dispatch in their current zone. It worked by transporting the anomaly to the Elite Zone, where they would be hunted by monsters many times their own strength. Without a means to Level Up, they would easily be defeated. In cases where they managed to go unnoticed, the powerful zone barrier, which was pure destructive energy several orders of magnitude stronger than the Noob Zone barrier, would ensure they remained until they met their demise. System Administrator reviewed all of this, and found peace in knowing that the Hive’s methods were tested over eons. They could trust in the protocols.
The calm they felt shattered as soon as the communications channel connected and Sector Assimlator’s face came onto the screen.
“Laud, The Queen!” System Administrator said with fervor before flattening all of their tentacles tight across their body as was protocol.
“May her spawn creep forth forever.” came the expected reply. System Administrator heard some brief laughter in addition to tinkling serving dishes before Sector Assimilator continued in an even tone, “For what purpose have you contacted us, Administrator 41356?”
“Our humblest apologies for interrupting you, but in accordance with the Protocols, specifically subsection IV, we are obligated to report an initiation of the Phase 3 for an anomaly on planet X5117.” The words were spoken stiffly, for even though System Administrator thrived on seeing forth the will of The Queen, they couldn’t help but hate that after all of these years, they were beholden to someone much younger than themselves–a spawn who had been made Sector Assimimlator purely because they originated from one of the more centralized nests.”
“A first for you if we are not mistaken?”
Are we being interrogated? System Administrator thought before responding, “Yes, as well as for many of the Hive aboard this vessel.”
“Was the unenlightened planet too hard for your veteran crew?”
“Your pardon, but we don’t understand.” The question was rude and definitely wouldn’t have been asked within the Hive proper, thus System Administrator’s confusion. It wasn’t until a brief moment later, when muffled laughter was once again heard that they realized they were being mocked.
“We are asking if you were too weak to be able to handle a world of non-cultivators, but reaching Phase 3 makes that obvious. No wonder you are still only an Administrator.” The mockery and raw condescension which had replaced the more formal tone that permeated and was even a hallmark of assimilation vessels was enough to push System Administrator over the edge.
“We are not to blame, but rather Junior Administrator, who assisted the anomaly and enacted treason.” The words came pouring forth before System Administrator could stop them and they instantly regretted it. Blaming someone of lower rank was a sign of weakness, and it didn’t help that Junior Administrator was from the same nest as them.
The distinct absence of any sound made System Administrator aware that their remark was heard by all on the other end, which meant that a full investigation would now take place.
“And where is Junior Administrator now?” Sector Assimilator asked at length.
“Under confinement in their quarters while we wait to know how to proceed.”
“You would punish one of higher rank than yourself?”
“We would follow the Protocols, which clearly dictate that we do so.” They replied in angry annoyance, which was met with more uncomfortable silence.
“Well, consider the Protocols properly reported. You will hear from us soon.” Sector Assimilator said before disconnecting the line.
System Administrator slammed their fists and spinal tentacles down on the seat in fury. That had not gone well. The rising generation have no professionalism and don’t deserve or truly appreciate the luxuries they possess.
Even as they thought the words, they realized that while true, they were just trying to justify their own behavior. They would have to walk more carefully in the future or they would be more likely to die than retire.
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Mike awoke after only a few hours. The temperature had diminished somewhat, but not enough to prevent the exposed skin on his back from sticking grossly to the Quicksilver through the holes in his shirt. As it was still too hot to leave his den, he took the opportunity to eat a small serving of fish while he watched the light slowly dampen. At length, the temperature was bearable enough that he scooted surprisingly gracefully from his nook, where he was greeted with a vista that surpassed his expectations. The sky was awash in reds, purples, pinks, and even a small hint of blue, all of which seemed to reflect across the golden sand dunes in a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of colors that caused him to whistle appreciatively as he took it all in.
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The dunes were linear, being marked by the regularly intervalled waves like a beach at high surf. From where he stood, nearly 1.5 miles above the troughs, he could only estimate that the valley between himself and the next dune was roughly a mile across. As far as he could see, the pattern repeated itself.
The height of the dunes meant that the valleys were already darkened by deep shadows, which gave him pause. He could either travel along the tops of the dunes, which would inhibit the distance traveled but also offered safety in that he would have a better view of any other monsters in the area. Or, he could travel along the valleys, which would increase his speed and make it harder for monsters to see him.
After thinking it over for a few moments, he realized that the arrow which guided him actually pointed somewhat perpendicular to the dunes, meaning that he was once again dealing with a worst case scenario, as travel would be slow and he would be easily spotted. However, he couldn’t help the excitement building in his chest as he stored up his Quicksilver den, a process which took close to 20 minutes since he wanted to be sure he didn’t leave any of the substance behind him. That accomplished, he strapped some rawhide across his stomach and chest, created a sled of Quicksilver, and whooped boyishly as he launched himself headfirst down the dune while activating Stomach Surfing. It likely wasn’t the safest possible way of descending, but it was definitely the fastest as well as the most fun–and any true danger would be in the form of other monsters, due to the desolate emptiness of his surroundings in addition to the amazing amount of control he had thanks to the Stomach Surfing skill.
After only a few seconds, his body was moving much faster than a man could run, and after a minute of his unabated, headlong luge, he was moving faster than he could even with Footsteps of the Wind activated. Yet still he continued onward, until the rushing of the wind became almost deafening and the sand particles struck his exposed face with biting force.
Suddenly, the light around him vanished and his acceleration slowed as he approached the trough of the dunes. Only a handful of seconds later and his body had fully leveled out, skimming across the valley’s floor in 20 seconds or so before he was ascending the other side. The sharp change in angle caused his head to jerk forward, and he very nearly smashed his nose on the sled beneath him, an occurrence which he felt would have been guaranteed if it wasn’t for the extra control afforded him by his skill set.
He couldn’t be sure how high he had started on the previous dune, but he didn’t come to a complete stop until he was almost 20 yards past the line where the sun ended and shadows began. With slightly shaking knees, tearfilled eyes due to the flying sand particles, beard and mustache askew, and a huge smile on his face, Mike climbed to his feet and began ascending the dune in front of him. That was better than his first time jumping out of a plane.
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His progress continued through the night, the tall mountains causing even his reinforced stats to be exhausted, until he was using Tactics to funnel his Dexterity into Strength and Toughness to help increase his endurance. The exhaustion he felt wasn’t the exhaustion of an old man however, but the exhaustion of youthful play. Each time his sled came to rest, he wasted no time getting to his feet, excited to do it again. If Mother could see me now, she would say that I haven’t changed at all from that 12 year old boy who would spend an entire day climbing and sledding down the big hill behind our house.
In addition to simply being fun, the constant exertion of climbing, combined with the friction between his sled and the sand as he slid down each hill, meant that he was able to keep the cold from getting to him. A cold which continued to deepen with each hour that the sun wasn’t shining.
Other than the cold, and a brief instance where he got bold and attempted to catch some air off of a small ridge, he faced no real difficulties for the first 6 hours or so of darkness. It wasn’t until he was halfway down the last hill of the night that danger struck. A thunderous noise, like firing the main artillery round of a tank, was his only warning before a huge creature emerged from the sand. It was pellet shaped, with a diameter that Mike guessed to be around 15 feet, at least as far as he could tell from hundreds of yards away while riding downhill in the middle of the night. He reflexively tried to Analyze it, but received only a series of messages instead.
[Warning: Analyze failed due to level disparity]
[Overridden: Boss status]
[Warning: Underdeveloped skill usage can lead to catastrophic failure]
After the confusing messages ended, during which time he had continued to approach the bottom of the dune, and subsequently the waiting monster, he finally was able to see what it was.
Name: Islthin
Monster Type: Greater Sand Wurmlet
Level: 75
Strength: 800
Dexterity: 40
Intelligence: 15
Charisma: 2
Toughness: 75
Luck: 30
Abilities: Entrancing Song–Uses vibrations of the earth to sway the minds of its prey, forcing them to come to its mouth. Sand Excavation–Consumes sand at a rapid rate to pull objects closer to it.
“A wurmlet? How can that thing be considered a baby? And why is the System misspelling things now?” he screamed into the wind. The fact that it had higher Toughness, almost 20 times as much Strength, and nearly equal Dexterity was almost ignored as he saw how much higher the wurmlet’s Luck was.
At the very least, the creature was Level 75, which was the lowest possible in this Zone according to the notifications he read earlier. He briefly thought about how big the fully grown wurm must be to birth such a large baby and shuddered. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to find out tonight.
Not knowing what else to do, and hoping that his current speed was enough to avoid the creature, he angled his sled as far to the side of the creature as he could without causing him to lose momentum or fall outright. The front of the creature's body lifted slightly as if sensing the change in direction, but made no move to follow him, and he ended up passing beside it with over a hundred yards of clearance.
As his streaking form continued to increase the distance between himself and the monster, his worries began to abate. Just when he thought he was past the danger altogether, he felt a deep vibration in his bones and a faint rush of energy, before his body turned, much to the protests of his panicking brain, angling the sled straight towards the awaiting jaws of a creature that was larger than a school bus.