Coop squinted through a curtain of sawgrass. Using the side of his hand to form a gap wide enough to slip his body through the fringes of the wetland, he ventured forward.
Strips of emerald blades rippled under the relentless Florida sun, presenting the only visible evidence that a breeze drifted across the environment. Waves swept across the region, formed by the flowing edged stalks of the glades rather than the protected water. In contrast to the grasses, the shallow waterways were untouched by the mellow winds, buffered as they were by the flooded meadows extending into the air.
The chill of the cool pre-dawn was gone, replaced by a harsh, humid, and sticky morning. Coop slowly waded forward, holding his spear above his head as he cautiously took the first steps into the unfamiliar danger zone. From a distance, he hadn’t detected anything out of the ordinary, so he was entering the quest area methodically, waiting until he found the first representative of the Infestation and measured their capabilities before he pressed farther beyond the perimeter. An ambush could come from any angle, but he was prepared to face the challenge.
Compared to his first real adventure on the Zombie Lord’s oil rig, he was a completely different person. Considering it was only the start of Day 117, it hadn’t really been that long, certainly not enough to actually transform his personality, but the assimilation had been a crash course in the cruelty of the galactic community. He doubted there was anyone on Earth that could claim to be unchanged. He was no exception.
That wasn’t to say all the changes had been negative. Even someone like Coop could recognize how confidence had seeped into his actions. He was certainly more assertive after a hundred days of the assimilation. He felt a lot less like a passive observer, anxiously being dragged along, than he did in the previous days.
Coop pressed into the marsh, welcoming the confidence that steadied his steps while remembering hard-learned caution. His eyes were active and he engaged all of his senses with Presence of Mind, ready to take on just about any opponent, big or small.
Beneath the endless powder blue sky, a symphony of natural sounds bloomed all around him. Great white herons spread their wings after roosting for the night, flying low as they crossed the grasslands with beats of their feathers. Their guttural calls could have been attributed to dinosaurs, echoing across the landscape while the grasses rattled together in the breeze. Frogs and crickets provided a steady backdrop along with the calm bubbling of flowing water. Coop kept an eye on the birds as they claimed their own sections of the wetlands for the day, but they behaved as if nothing was out of the ordinary, ignorant to the realities of the assimilation. Somehow, the natural environment had been preserved.
The air itself was heavy, thick with the scent of swamp flowers and moss, like a primal perfume unique to this particular section of the world. Rather than being unpleasant, the fragrance seemed wild and pure. Coop took a deep breath through his nose, staying relatively quiet, only adding the sound of water trickling against his legs as he traversed the marsh. The ambience gave him the feeling that he had been transported back in time, as if he was the first explorer to venture into the Everglades.
The vistas were only slightly spoiled by the occasional street light, covered in lichen, and with other vegetation hanging from the lamps. Small bits of human development managed to survive the assimilation long enough to be reclaimed by nature. From a distance, the street lights looked like branchless pine trees, but as he observed a roseate spoonbill nest nestled at the top of one, he realized the leaning objects were man made.
As he continued, the sawgrasses swayed, revealing glimpses of the vast hidden world submerged underneath. The stalks leaned out of his way, pressed by his weight, before bouncing back up once he was gone, letting the sun highlight his submerged feet as he went. The water was the color of weak tea and stretched out in an intricate network of channels and pools. It was a shallow, hidden labyrinth teeming with life.
Gnarled cypress knees rose through the surface of the water like monuments to the weathered history of the Everglades as a whole. Beyond the pioneering cypress, thicker stands of trees formed pockets of shade where thick mats of spanish moss hung from branches like the beards of ancient wizards. Coop followed the edge of a wider channel, taking an indirect path to the north and west as he sought enemies nearer to the perimeter of the zone rather than barrelling into the center.
There was a raw beauty to the untamed ecosystem that he couldn’t help but appreciate. Coop felt blessed to visit, but he found himself feeling curious as to what dared to actively establish a permanent territory in the swamp. For a regular human like him, the environment was actually less forgiving than the rainforests of the Yucatan. There was far less cover, seeing as trees were limited to their own smaller pockets where dry sections rose from the wetlands. Without mistjumps or a boardwalk, it would take months to casually traverse the distance from Empress City to the Placid Lake Outpost thanks to the shallow waters that defined the ecosystem. It was a testament to Gibson’s party and the Empress City residents that they had successfully pioneered a path so far north in the first place.
Coop split his attention between watching the horizon through swaying blades of grass in front of him and watching his feet through the clear freshwater. He disturbed small turtles as he went, sending them diving off soggy logs and mats of fallen leaves where they were sunning themselves in the morning light. Anhingas watched him from a distance, holding their wings out as they waited for their feathers to dry after hunting fish, perched on rare islands of dirt or coral rock, or more frequently on the leaning branches of pioneering trees. An enormous wood stork led a flock of smaller species of wading birds down the edge of another channel, hesitating as Coop crossed their path. Despite its size, it was just a regular bird, reminding Coop of the variety that existed even before mana activated. They watched him for a moment, long enough to decide he wasn’t going to bother them before the mixed flock resumed foraging.
An hour of wading through the Everglades and Coop hadn’t seen a single creature with a level. Thousands of birds, conspicuous against the backdrop of grassy vegetation, hundreds of frogs, lizards, snakes, and turtles, and limitless insects from dragonflies and butterflies to beetles and spiders crossed his path. Fish, molluscs, snails, and an unbelievable number of flowers were everywhere, but nothing that felt like a big enough threat to rise to an Infestation.
The main, notable absence in all of the creatures was in the Primal Constructs. He hadn’t seen a single example of the planetary sponsor’s manifestations. The most likely culprit of the Infestation was missing. Every movement had Coop anticipating one of the metallic invaders, but thus far, he was disappointed by their lack of presence.
When ripples appeared in a lane of clear water, formed between columns of sawgrass that led to a particularly thick cypress stand, Coop was immediately put on high alert. Back on Ghost Reef, the Mangrove Forest harbored a population of Primal Serpents. The Primal Constructs had already trained him to be wary of ripples in shady water.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The water had been gradually deepening as he drew closer to the cypress trees, trading the shallow grassland for a section of lake-like habitat covered in broad-leafed lily pads. The wide trunks of the cypress trees gathered enough soil to establish their stand on the other side of the deeper water, but that left Coop on the edge of a section that was too deep for him to properly fight within.
Coop avoided striking first, quietly shifting his stance while holding his spear forward and watching as whatever was hidden in the water angled toward him, pinning him against the even deeper section. If it was an animal, he expected to ward it away, but if it was a monster, he was ready to fight. Fish tended to flee with splashing turns as soon as they recognized his presence. However, he’d never seen a Primal Construct retreat.
The tip of his spear gleamed in the sunlight, just a few inches above the surface of the water, extending his melee range with its length. Coop’s legs were slightly bent and both of his arms flexed as he braced for a potential charge, the water rising nearly to his chest. Whatever was creating waves was larger than most of the species of fish he had already encountered, and he doubted one of the agile diving birds, like a cormorant, would fail to notice him as long as this specimen had.
The ripples stopped a mere 20 feet away, suddenly sending tiny waves scattering into the floating grasses from the submerged creature’s now stationary position. Coop remained as still as a statue, feeling the sun beating down his shoulders, the heat contrasting with the cool shaded water. His muscles were coiled in anticipation of action, but he was left waiting. The water completely stilled, reflecting the sky like a perfect mirror, but Coop stayed vigilant, staring into the tea-colored water, straining his eyes to pierce the surface.
A moment later, a bubble timidly broke the glassy water, preceding the reveal of the submerged sentry. Two unblinking yellow eyes breached the still water afterwards. A broad, bumpy snout followed, and a leathery hide of olive green scales emerged, scarred with long-healed slices, as if a propeller had crossed its back. An alligator floated to the surface with a primordial growl, presenting eight feet of ancient evolution in all of its glory. Its nostrils flared at the waterline as it surveyed Coop with slitted pupils in golden orange eyes that contrasted its deep gray-green hide.
For all of Coop’s developing confidence, coming face to face with the hidden predator lurking beneath the water’s surface while feeling exposed by the environment made him swallow hard, feeling uneasy with the encounter. Coop identified the alligator, guessing that he had discovered the first creature with levels based on its aura alone.
[Elite American Alligator (Level 152)]
[(Strength)]
[Minion]
Coop noted that not only was the gator an Elite, but it was also a minion. As far as he could tell, that put the alligator at the top of the list for the culprits of the local Infestation. It was the only possibility he had discovered. The fact that it was just watching him from a distance placed the onus of making a decision onto Coop.
After a few more seconds of the two staring at each other, Coop was the first to move. He stepped to the side, moving perpendicularly between the gator and the island, keeping the deeper water on his side rather than venturing through the watery barrier on his previous path toward what appeared to be dry ground. He kept his eyes on the gator as he went, alert to a potential attack. The animal kept the distance between them exactly the same, slowly drifting forward with slow side to side movements of its thick tail. It matched Coop’s cautious speed, not getting any closer, but also not letting Coop put distance between them.
Coop narrowed his eyes as the feeling of being stalked by an ancient predator settled in. He wondered if he should just kill it. An elite opponent with 150 levels was certainly a favorable matchup for the Champion. A minion of an Infestation should also be something that could respawn or otherwise be resummoned, but attacking the animal went against a part of Coop’s personality that had gone unchanged since before the assimilation.
Instead of fighting, Coop decided to escape from the slow pursuer. He threw his spear over the lily pad decorated water, straight into the cypress stand, and mistjumped away from his stalker. A small puff of mist settled in his place on the surface of the water, spilling into the thick bands of grass before disappearing.
When Coop reappeared, he was firmly secured in the crook of a large tree, shaded by the thick elevated canopy and braced by carpets of tillandsia that covered its bark. Coop doubted that the alligator would know where he went, so he stayed still a few dozen feet above the ground and observed how the animal responded.
To his surprise, the alligator knew exactly where he was. So did 50 more of the reptilian creatures that had been hidden in the nearby waters where he had explored throughout the morning.
Alligators of various sizes converged on the cypress stand, leaving splashing wakes as they precisely tracked Coop’s teleport into the shade without any problems. They came from all directions, revealing that Coop had actually been completely surrounded as soon as he entered the swamp. His attempt to investigate the Infestation without making any commotion until he encountered the first monster had been for naught.
The alligators settled in a loose crowd, with only their yellowish eyes and dark nostrils breaking the water, but from Coop’s perspective above them, he could see their bulky and scarred bodies suspended inches beneath the surface like the shadows of imposing dinosaurs.
Coop shook his head to himself, still wanting to lose their attention. He threw his spear further into the unexplored territory, aiming for the next stand of trees in the distance, retreating from the potential challenge no matter how favorable it was for him.
He mistjumped a full hundred yards away, leaving a splash of mists to cascade down the large cypress tree and linger in the leaf rosettes of the airplants. He timed his teleport so that he landed in another tall tree when he reappeared, bracing himself against the trunk with one arm, with one leg on a branch and the other suspended in the air, like he was hanging out the side of an elevated trolley.
His sudden movement triggered what must have been hundreds more gators, spread evenly throughout the swamp as if each had claimed its own small pond in the flooded grassland.
They abandoned their scattered positions and splashed toward him, flattening sawgrass, and leaving white water wakes as they bee-lined to his new hideout with hisses and bared teeth that silenced the bird calls. In the moment that he reappeared, they were already made aware of his position, like they were completely in tune with the swamp itself.
As he watched their trajectories from above, feeling impressed, he noted that one of the lanes of water was clear enough to reveal the pavement markings of a highway. White lines separated lanes where rhizomatous aquatic herbs dominated the vegetation. On the side, a massive billboard had toppled over, leaving just its upper corner exposed to the humid air while the rest was covered by a foot or more of the gently flowing water.
Coop read the submerged advertisement, unhurried, thanks to his confidence that alligators couldn’t climb trees. The sign announced “Airboat Rides! Skunk Ape Tours! Gator Wrestling! Fun for the whole family! - Next Exit” in brightly colored expressive letters.
“The hell is a skunk ape?” Coop muttered, glancing in the direction he believed the road would have gone. It was just more swamp, with thick scattered patches of either pine trees or cypress, depending on the water level, on either side.
As he decided where to go next, staring into the distance, the sound of nails scratching on wet bark drew his attention back down to the alligators. Some of the smaller specimens, still upwards of six feet, were climbing up the side of the cypress. They were making easy progress, and Coop made an important discovery. Alligators could definitely climb trees.