Status
Name: Travone Lee
Class: Armoury Class
Integration Level: 11.3%
Rank: Zeta
Attribute Value
Strength 8>11
Dexterity 8>10
Constitution 8>11
Control 6>7
Perception 7>8
Skills:
Barrier(Level 5>7 ), Reflex Guard (Level 6>8),Spectral Arrow(Level 1>3) Bind (Level 1>4 )
Armoury Class Passives: Anchor Stance (Level 1)
Nothing in his status could help him, and his skills were useless as he put one leg in front of the other. Surprisingly, Rai was moving faster than him; his steps were solid, and his body moved with ease.
Travone and Rai sprinted through the shadows of the hive city, the adrenaline propelling them forward. They did not look back; however, their eyes darted among fallen pillars, dark passages, and endless dark holes before them. They ran from the horrors they had just escaped, and all the while, a green flashing beep came from their transponders.
The darkened alleys echoed with distant murmurs as they approached the entrance where they had used to come into the city. Thankfully, the ship the transponders were tracking was in a similar landing spot and had landed at the exact time interval. The seekers at the landing area checked their equipment and surroundings, making sure the area was clear and that there were no creatures that would trap the expedition teams from the rear.
The seekers milled around the transport, getting into groups, and some archaeologists could be seen waving devices around the area.
"It's coming; there is something coming," Travone tried to say, but he found himself winded. The only thing his body was capable of was gasping lungs full of of sulphuric air that his Astrovore nanites filtered into his blood.
"Hey, were those two in there all night?" a voice called out, barely breaking through the bustling noise around them.
Mumbles of disbelief followed, punctuated by laughter from a rotund man with a thick Scottish accent, his boisterous tone reverberating through the air. "Those lucky bastards—they survived a whole night down here!"
Travone looked around in disbelief, but there were no screams of pain or sounds of fighting; there was no headless suit. It turned out that the creature had not followed them.
"Hey, hey, stop," someone else called to them. But after a night in the dark city, they had only eyes for the transport craft. Although others ignored them, some of the seekers gathered, eyes wide with curiosity.
The pilot, a well-toned woman with sharp features and an air of authority, stepped forward, handing Rai a bottle of water as she surveyed them carefully.
The crowd pressed closer, each asking questions rising like a tide: "How did they survive? Was there a secret to what they did? What did they see? How did they feel? Why were they running?" The relentless barrage of questions nearly suffocated under the weight of their expectant gaze.
Some even offered money for any whispers of relics or hidden treasures. "Back off, everyone!" the pilot commanded, her voice cutting through the din. "We’re taking you two back to the space station."
"Yes, thank you," Rai replied, relief flooding through him. Travone remained silent, staring blankly at the prominent metallic sheen on Rai's skin, which clearly showed he was at the Epsilon rank. He looked down at his hands, then at the memories of suit and creature in the dark depths that etched themselves into his mind.
The suit—the creature that had nearly ripped them apart—lingered in his thoughts like a dark shadow, fueling a sense of dread. "What was it? Dangerous? For sure," he muttered under his breath, his heart racing at the thought of the monster that had haunted them through the night they had spent on the dungeon planet.
“The hole in the city… it was home to something larger than anything I’ve ever seen, " he muttered, his mind oblivious to the eyes of the surrounding people around him.
He looked up and was met by the interested faces of the seekers, some of whom held pitying looks as they looked at his horrified face. "Are you alright?" the pilot asked, her voice filled with concern and pity.
Her gaze was one of knowing and understanding, one that had seen the terror of seekers who had brushed too closely with unimaginable horrors and emerged forever changed. "Did you lose anyone?" she pressed, and the question hit Travone. Thinking of the two archaeologists they were with, he couldn't remember their names even now. His only hope was that they had bought enough time for the two of them to escape.
"No. I don’t think," he stammered, "We were escorting two archaeologists… I don’t know if they made it out."
"Well, that’s something," she said softly, acknowledging.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
"Are we going to head back?"
"Yes, we’re taking you to the station. There will be some reports to fill out." The mention of paperwork felt like something normal compared to the hours he had spent on this planet. He needed something to distract himself.
Albin, Athens platform Transport Station.
In the station where Albin waited, tension tightened in the back of his neck as he watched the clock tick down the minutes. If Travone didn’t show up in three days, all hope of finding him would vanish, and all hope of finding out how he escaped would be gone. If the boy was truly dead, then the good thing was he didn't have to worry about Natasha and the UNE questioning him.
Caught in his own thoughts, he was jarred by the sudden movements as he noticed a group of UNE medics rushing toward the landing port from nearby. Curios about the situation, he followed along behind them. This elite team, the best in their field and accessible only to the wealthiest, gripped his attention with their pristine uniforms and serious expressions.
At one landing port, the medics pushed through a throng of seekers, their urgency palpable as Albin watched intently. When the ship landed and the doors opened, Albin's heart raced. He saw them extract an Asian boy who seemed weary but not gravely injured, a visage of fear washed in exhaustion that only told him how bad the situation the Epsilon had gone through was.
"Did he not make it?" Albin pondered, concern knitting his brow as he continued to observe. Another boy followed, helped by a single medic who was less attentive than the rest, which was unlike the concern given to his companion.
Albin closed the distance between them without deliberation, pushing aside the low-ranked seekers.
"You!" he shouted, locking eyes with Travone, who froze at the sight of him, recognition igniting a spark of dread. "I’ve been looking for you." Travone stiffened, inching away from the medic as if he had seen a monster approaching him.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Albin asked, stepping into the boy's personal space and delivering a blow that sent Travone crumbling down to the floor with a gasp.
Before Travone could even hit the ground, Albin hoisted him over his shoulder, the weight of unexpected confrontation adding an absurd gravity to the situation.
Rai was caught off guard and struggled to push away the UNE elite medical team when he saw Albin's metallic-tinted figure approach them, his eyes glued on Travone.
"Hey! Stop! Put him down!" Rai shouted as Albin attempted to drag Travone away.
"And who are you?" Albin retorted, indifference thick in his voice.
"It doesn’t matter—put my companion down!" Rai pressed.
"Or what?" Albin taunted, his presence effortlessly intimidating. The elite medical team stiffened, prepared to intervene as protectors of their client.
"This boy is under UNE investigation. Interfere, and you’ll have to deal with Hector," Albin warned, and the medics visibly stepped down and relaxed their postures.
"And can I ask what he has done?" One of the medics cautiously inquired, concern in her voice.
"That’s confidential," Albin replied coolly, glancing at the medic team as if he could dismiss them easily.
"But with your resources, I’m sure you’ll find out," he said, looking up and down at Rai and the elite medical team surrounding him.
Rai’s mind raced with a glaring conclusion: Did this investigator know about Travone’s weapon class? What was the UNE planning? Would they attempt to extract his secrets or, worse, his power-class gem?
"Wake up!" The voice cut through the hazy sleep and headache, sharper and insistent every second. Travone jolted upright, struggling to clear the drawl and dried blood from his face.
"What is going on? Where am? Who are you?" he stammered as he tried to make out his surroundings. The last person he expected to see was Albin, who was looming over him, an intimidating figure defined by his metallic skin that glimmered in the dim light of the cramped space.
"Travone, that’s your name, right?" Albin's eyes burned with greed as he lifted Travone's head to meet his gaze, the edges of his lips curling into a sinister smile. "I’ve been looking for you."
Looking around the place, Panic flooded Travone’s senses, and without a moment to think about what he was doing, he tried to scream for Help, but the words turned into a desperate shout: "Help! Help! Anybody!"
Before he could finish his weak, frail yells, a forceful blow struck his jaw, the shock of pain cutting through the haze in a flash, the aftershock hitting him like a wave crashing upon the shore.
"Shut your mouth—no one will hear you," Albin hissed, his voice low and threatening, as Travone grappled with consciousness and the pain throbbing in his skull.
His mind was juried, and it took agonizing moments for his clarity to return. Travone gasped, "What do you want?"
"Everything," Albin replied, his words dripping.
"I—I have nothing." Travone stumbled over his breath, his chest heaving. He glanced beyond Albin to examine the dim walls closing in around him. Perhaps he could identify where he was and escape.
"Where am I?" he croaked.
"Somewhere nobody can find you," Albin replied, his tone matter-of-fact as he leaned in, seemingly savouring his power over the boy.
"Why are you doing this?" Travone wheezed, blood and phlegm threatening to choke him.
"Because you have something I want," Albin said, his voice cold and devoid of empathy.
"I have nothing! What could I possibly have that you want?" Travone's voice was desperate.
Albin's eyes narrowed. He grabbed Travone's jacket and lifted him out of the chair the boy had been tied to. "How did you survive? How did you get off the planet? Was it a relic?"
Panic again, what does he know.
Travone replied faintly, "I don’t know!"
Albin yanked him closer by his jacket, lifting him higher in the chair, causing Travone's hands to stretch painfully. His face was inches from Travone’s. "What is it? Where did you hide it?"
Travone’s heartbeat was in his chest as he struggled, his eyes tied behind his back. He met Albin’s gaze, and he was filled with an unsettling mixture of fear and anger. Then, he lowered his eyes. Trying to break free was impossible.
Albin released him suddenly. He looked at his hands covered in blood and gave a disgusted look. Albin thought through all the possibilities of how the boy could conceal such power, and to his dismay, he could only think of a few ways. Could it be a skill of his class?
Still, something gnawed at him; "Was it a skill?" Albin asked sharply, tightening his grip once more.
"What skill?"
"So it’s not a skill," Albin muttered in realization. "It must be a relic, then.
With a flick of his wrist, Albin conjured a vivid blue barrier around Travone’s head, watching as despair filled the boy's eyes.
Travone struggled against the shield, his hands clawing at the bindings on his hands. He tried to grab a lug full of air against the invisible walls, and horror settled in.
"I can't..." he gasped, feeling the pressure close in, his vision darkening as he tried to fight the encroaching unconsciousness. All Travone could think about was what was worth surviving the dungeon city or being subjected to this torture.
Just as he felt like he was teetering on the edge of oblivion, the shocking sensation of cold water splashed over him, snapping him back to reality. Startled, Travone opened his eyes to see Albin looming over him once more, pouring water from a bottle with a twisted grin.
"Nice place you got here," Albin sneered, and the sarcasm did little to ease Travone’s fraying nerves as he looked at the apartment. "Where is it?" Albin leaned in too close, whispering in a voice that dripped with menace.
"Wh-what?" Travone managed.
In a fit of frustration, Albin swung around, angrily knocking over Travone’s haphazardly arranged clothes that lay scattered on the floor. "Is it in here?" he asked, pointing at the bed before kicking it apart, splintering wood flying as he vented his anger.
"What about the fridge?" he demanded, sending the door swinging open and hurtling toward Travone, the metal slamming painfully onto his foot, leaving a bruise forming on his leg.
"I-I will tell you where it is," Travone stuttered, groaning as he bent over the chair in pain.
Albin pressed him, "Tell me where it is!"
"I think it's still on the planet," Travone babbled.
."What is it, it's on the planet?" Albin's hands tangled into Travone’s hair as he pressed for answers.
"The artifact! The one that brought me to the planet!"
A triumphant grin spread across Albin's face—a gleam of insatiable greed showing within him.
The thought of such power, an artefact capable of transport at such distance he could only imagine, thinking of tantalizing in its potential. For a moment, Albin’s mind whirled; even the founders didn’t possess such a powerful device. "Who else did you talk to about this? Was it another seeker?" he pressed, his grip tightening with all the strength of gamma rank on Travone’s shoulder; the boy winced at the pain.
"It was a Xanthian!" Travone exclaimed.
Albin's face was initially surprised, then twisted with fury at the thought of a monster possessed by that kind of power.
"A monster? It doesn’t deserve that kind of strength! I will find it, and then I will kill it," he seethed, his grip tightening even more around Travone's neck. "And you," Albin hissed, determination etched into his features, "I will kill you too. Then I will take your power stone and give it to my son."