Their newly expanded island home had moved around a lot less in the past twelve hours since the attack, but ever since they started moving again they had begun passing some quite distinctive landmarks; ones indicating that they were much farther from home than anybody could have anticipated.
Namely, volcanoes.
They were crossing over an ocean of water now, surrounded by hundreds of other islands near and far, heading every which way, with only the huge volcanoes remaining stationary in the distance. The geological formations lent a certain ambience to the air, even on the days when they weren’t spewing peculiar substances brought up from the Earth’s crust.
Ken, Sarah and the others in the group remained vigilant after the losses they had suffered, what with only one of them having gained any significant levels so far. They used the opportunity provided by clearing out the remaining snakes to give anyone who wanted it their first Aspirant level, in case that helped with the Dao thing, although it did not lead to any immediate results. Then they moved the Beralumin weapons from the entrances and The Armory, over to the sleeping quarters where they belonged, in case anything else slipped past their reinforced defenses in their unguarded moments. But Ken remained their sole protector for now, alongside the absent Damon, who was kept busy with the operations, their one and only real attempts to invest in their future so far.
A decision which was ultimately accepted as strategically necessary, right up until the first moments when they came under attack, for the third time in as many days.
At least this time around the prepared defenses at the entrances served their purpose in delaying the enemy and to warn them well ahead of time. They had set up plenty of obstacles, but also an easily triggered Rube Goldberg machine that sent a small, heavy ball banging into a bunch of pre-prepared metal buckets in quick succession—leading their group directly to the source of the trigger; a last resort for in case anything made it past their look-outs on the roof.
Unfortunately, the invaders had struck at dusk while the light was low, arriving hidden out of sight behind another one of their ever changing, temporary neighbors which had docked but been confirmed emptied when it showed up several hours ago.
But this new attack was nothing to shake them, rather it was well within the scope of their planning. Ken had specifically warned them all to mentally prepare to face anything, and everyone heeded the warning after what happened to Tom and Sam. By now they’d all armed themselves with the strangely designed, blood-red weapons—most of which were made more for fun than to be useful in actual combat—then went to meet with the unknown home invaders head on, only to be faced with what was certainly an undersized threat if compared to the bull elephant which assaulted them earlier, yet even more infamous.
Scaling the obstacles and slowly forming up for a massed charge on the other side of the hallway was a pack of one of the largest reptiles you could still conceivably find roaming the planet. Not just a few either, but judging by the noises coming at them, it must be more than fifty of the oversized, hissing buggers.
“GODZI—Hmpf. It’s a pack of komodos. Prepare yourselves, remember to circle like I showed you,” Kenpachi obviously recognised the foe immediately, and so did the others at his mention of the infamous predator.
They had worked hard at stacking tables and chairs, loose bits of debris, and all manner of haphazard items, eventually blocking every entrance—all to prevent anything larger than a rat from getting inside. It was still working, sort of, but the lizards clearly knew they were in there, and the aggressive predators had already wrecked enough of the fortifications to create a path across the top, easily scaled in their unexpectedly agile forms.
These beasts acted just like the snakes, gathering in far too large a group, suddenly motivated to take on threats that would have normally had them fleeing. Except these creatures weighed about ten times as much, and were venomous to boot… in the long run… without help, they were fucked, with everyone aware how Damon was likely to be under the knife by now—or drained and in recovery. Yet this was it, what they had been preparing themselves for; they refused to act cowed. Under Ken’s leadership, everyone hefted the weapon of their choice, brought along for precisely this grim purpose, and then countercharged. They were still faster and larger as a group, not to mention armed to the teeth. Fighting together, no pack of mere beasts would take them down. Not when every kill would also empower them with new Aspirant levels.
Ken forced his 74-year old, reinvigorated body into a perfect lunge, spearing the frontmost dragon and breaking the power of their charge, the semi-enhanced humans all following suit, beating back and successfully dealing with the first few hungry lizards, who all got slain by the disturbingly sharp weapons, like pigs brought to the slaughter. It worked out fine, for a time. Until they tired. No matter how many were killed, the slavering wave of beasts remained completely fearless; forcing their way into the larger room where they could make the numbers work to their advantage, ensuring the inexperienced fighters had to back off to stay safe. Which did work well for a time, after what Ken had taught them, up until they saw Hector from the cafeteria suddenly get his leg grabbed from behind by a new dragon showing up out of nowhere, having unexpectedly made it past their line unnoticed—which was how they learned this was not the only pack that had arrived on the island, plenty more komodos were making their way up from the garage—which meant they were in even worse trouble than anyone had realized. Right by that back entrance was the stairs down to the basement, where Damon and Tyler were conducting the operation. Which explained why the komodos from that way came spilling in one by one, instead of the whole pack together.
The first one’s in must have gotten distracted.
They had smelled the blood.
----------------------------------------
Tyler was dreaming, and it was a good dream. He was a child again, and sparks were flying. He was removing the plastic chassis of their Video Home System, and taking apart all the little plastic and metal pieces within, taking great care to memorize how to put it all back together.
Then he recalled playing his first videogame, MechWarrior 3, and having the childish realization that that was the era which he should have been born into.
Next he dreamed of his first amazing car, then all the even better cars that came by way of his first platinum credit card, the one that allowed him to suddenly live the life of his dreams. The power at his beck and call in those leather seats beckoned always, even in his sleep.
All the while he never noticed the giant reptile, posting on his chest and hissing at him from just a foot away. He never noticed the ticklish tongue taking his temperature, or the hot breath of rotting meat that kept blotting out the inflow through his nostrils.
He was fast asleep. Fully gone to the world, happily basking in the thrill of claiming his first Dao Vein.
Damon should have been in a similar state, but he was not. Instead he was lying on his belly on top of the office desk, caught in a rather nightmarish position. He’d been right on track to going out like a light, every muscle in his body exhausted past the point of human effort, still suffering the aftermath of the extensive operation. Damon knew he was delirious, and that surely he must be hallucinating the giant, hostile lizards that had entered imperiously into Tyler’s office, while the rest of their pack mates made a mess of the rest of the garage, then proceeded to run deeper inside of the building, likely hearing a commotion caused by their hungry rivals somewhere else. Which was the point where Damon realized they were real—with one of the largest specimens mounting Tyler already. He watched in disgust as the reptile started licking Tyler’s face. Is it making sure he’s really passed out?
Why’s it ignoring me, when I’m staring right at it?
There was no clear explanation, leading Damon to conclude that maybe he was still covered in too much dried up blood, causing the creature to assume he was dead, despite his disbelieving stare.
Tyler had washed up, then left Damon in his current state flopped on top of the desk. before passing out in the massage chair when Damon made it clear how he would rather just lie down and not be moved from his belly, despite having healed. The multiple consecutive sessions had really done a number on his pain receptors, now the phantom pains lingered in his spine.
Still, it was nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t cure.
As for the chances of that—along came the forgotten slumber party, to disrupt any odds of a restful recovery. The hissing creature had turned away for a second, but then suddenly resumed approaching the mechanic, apparently judging he wasn’t quite sitting docile enough. Damon watched with disgust as the reptile went back to licking Tyler’s face—craning his neck from the very awkward position—with the predator’s victim somehow remaining blissfully deep into whatever kind of perverted dream, or such, that prevented his waking to the menacing tickle.
Once Damon’s delirious mind slowly realized that the threat was all too real, he felt his thoughts focusing in, enough to start trying to work his healed up body awake for a fight. Damon was staring at the enemy as he lay there in… ambush, until he heard the rest of the dragons outside of the garage office finally leave the random objects alone to come waddling inside, where they smelled all the blood was coming from. The threat multiplying sent a shiver down Damon’s spine. All six lizards now slowly approached the two of them, prompting Damon’s body to finally panic enough to move, to rise and prepare to take them all on—only to proceed to make Damon fully lose his balance, ending up promptly falling off the desk like a dead bag of rocks.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The room was spinning, just as the whole pack spun away from Tyler to face him, now having realized he was no delicious, fresh corpse but an actual live opponent. At least the shock of real pain had jarred him awake, body feeling stiff all over. Still, Damon wasted no time making his way back to his feet, lurching upward like he was on the 11th second of a ten-count in some legacy title fight. He needed to rush getting out of here, even if he had to take a few licks himself, he’d be able to heal on the way upstairs as long as he won. The rest of their team was clearly in immediate danger, and here the two of them were laid out again, right when they were needed the most.
So much for the value of Sacrifice.
Damon summoned all that remained of his willpower and surged forward, catching the giant lizards snapping for his legs with both hands, snapping their necks in turn and swiftly reducing the numbers before they realized his Strength, but with the cost of being bitten by two of them in his left calf as he tried to dodge away, his tough skin not quite tough enough, but with Damon still able to shake them off, taking the opening to run out into the garage, ending up stumbling from the resulting dizzy spell. The remaining beasts tried to pursue, forcing them to finally back off of Tyler, with the first beast luckily not considering him even worth wounding, with being dead to the world and a perfect snack for later already.
Their heads are perfectly placed for a low-kick, but I can’t risk my balance. Damon rounded a car and tried to find the room to strike back at the remaining four, without getting bit in return. The tactic went to shit when they caught up and he instinctively kicked at the first snapping head that came into range, successfully breaking the jaw and nearly bashing its brain in, only for his vision to swim again, and his body to veer off track. Nevertheless he struggled onward, remaining on his feet, far from the first time he’d struggled with the sensation. As soon as his movement stabilized, he stopped creating distance and launched into another collision with his newly enhanced legs, before veering away from the charging animals yet again, leaping onto work benches and car hoods to avoid their biting fangs. He’d expected to be tapped from his efforts, instead his determination appeared to ignite some source of new energy which had previously been lying dormant within. Is this the Mana I’ve been supposedly gaining?
A blue flame surged along his limbs, barely visible to the human eye, refueling his mind and limbs—for the duration of a single attack—Damon used the burst to launch into another leap, flying across the hood of the Ford Bronco to land a stomp directly onto the head of the rearmost dragon at the back of the pack, the rest of the hunters far too intent scrambling to catch their prey to have noticed his not turning another corner but leaping over instead.
Now, primed with adrenaline, Damon faced back around towards the two remaining beasts, who yarred in pleasure at the sight of their prey giving up the escape. Blistering fangs, which would have easily savaged him pre-System, went snapping for his femoral artery, the ravenous mouths instinctively striking at the nearest vulnerable limb—only to catch Damon’s surging fists coming down like hammers instead.
The twin blows squelched both of the small, aggressive brains of the remaining predators, and gave Damon the room to finally fall down in a heap, able to catch his breath at last, before he went over to make sure that Tyler was actually unharmed.
Two scrolls appeared, hovering nearby as the encounter finished.
But there was no more time to waste, than that, not with the crew upstairs so clearly in trouble.
With the promise of his newfound Mana to boost him in case he ended up drained, again, Damon headed for the stairs with a hobbled but determined stride—having only stopped to make sure he was leaving the passed out Tyler in relative safety.
Thankfully, the System was willing to lend a hand along the way; apparently slaying a pack of dragons was sort of a big deal.
[Aspirant level collected: +4 Str, +1 Per +3 Mana.]
[Aspirant level collected: +4 Str, +1 Per +3 Mana.]
[Your Aspirant Class has reached Level 6.]
[Congratulations, Damon Bishop.]
It did not help him recover his lost energy, or heal his wounds quicker, but it did add another boost to his strength and durability. He could move again, finally, and he was late as usual.
Wait, why aren’t my wounds healing?
Damon was too tired to think, and had no time to do so anyway. He headed straight for the sleeping quarters hallway where he knew the others must be battling with their lives on the line, but now that the rush of the fight was over, Damon’s body was back to barely responding to his will. He crashed into objects, dented walls, and altogether made a mess of things along the route upstairs.
Damon did his very best to focus up, at first, but his body’s usually unlimited reserves were depleted from the outset already—it was no use.
His efforts were not enough, not in his current state, his willpower not enough to change the reality. At least his body knew the way despite his consciousness drifting, and when he considered his condition and saw how his blood was still draining from his wounds—realizing what he might be faced with ahead—Damon decided to allow his mind to go wayward, just this once.
Instead of keeping a check on his surroundings, Damon's mind turned over their whole situation and contemplated the nature of sacrifice, and how useless it was at certain times. If you had no strength remaining, that is. If you lacked the means to make your sacrifices bear some meaning to the struggle you sacrificed in, then all you were doing was investing in a future you or your loved ones would no longer be a part of. You needed strength, first and foremost, in order to make your sacrifices matter. Even if sacrifice was an important part of how you personally acquired that strength; the use of your full power, at the correct time, was still required to make that lifetime of sacrifices worthwhile in the end. Boldly fighting at your pinnacle, at the end of your rope, all of it still mattered, even when you failed; if only as an example for the next generation to watch and see that struggling was never useless, that even someone's failures could serve as inspirations or hints at another important step along the Path, for those who would follow.
Damon’s whole body pulsed in agreement, his every muscle responding to the call. His mind felt like it was connecting to something, a something which was trying to communicate a Path forward. In the moment he was too tired to care, but the force felt alien and strange—yet appreciative of, his unwavering passion? He saw a vision of a seed taking root and budding, but the root was metallic in nature and far too vast, more like a mountain’s mineral vein, and before it, Damon was small. The force of Strength did not mind, he was still needed to make use of its tremendous power. He was a point of leverage, one naturally needed to bring strength to bear. Alien or not, their goals aligned—when he accepted this, he saw how a sapling would spring up, making space among the mountain’s roots, and that was what ultimately mattered when all the weight of the world came crashing down, but you remained determined to still rise, to earn your stripes.
To make progress.
He timed his entry into the sleeping quarters with this realisation, and proceeded to slay dragons.
The group of scientists and engineers stuck in such an insane situation as a System Integration had done surprisingly well, with having been caught between two unnaturally large packs of apex predators, but some of them were still being dragged off by the time that Damon arrived, in spite of Ken and all the rest’s best efforts.
“Hector!”
Hector was lying chewed up on the floor, with his brother Felipe having lost his weapon and remaining stuck among the others, getting desperate with no way of reaching the body. Hector had clearly failed to get away for long enough to trigger the healing, and now he was lying dangerously still, leaking blood, despite how the dragons had moved on to focus on bringing down the others. The healing still wasn’t triggering. Must be some venom, is he still considered under attack?
There was no time for further analysis.
Damon gathered himself for one final effort, then launched himself into the room like a homemade rocket—whizzing in a spiral—crushing his way through, aiming fists and kicks at snapping jaws; wherever a lizard foolishly entered inside his reach. Bones were left broken in his path. Damon was moving nearly as fast as he had versus the snakes just this past morning, but despite the forceful movements powered by a blue flame, in between attacks he was still stumbling. Damon tried shouting, to attract more attention and have the creatures bite onto him rather than anybody else, but it was futile when they had no need to choose. They kept eating his friends. The moment Damon slowed in the slightest, three more dragons were on him, chewing and bleeding him from the legs up, the blood loss and venom reaching fatal amounts.
They were in hell, and nobody was coming to save them.