“Haah…” Coop slowly exhaled, observing the shimmering horizon while acknowledging the feeling of reluctance that crept into his subconscious like a growing shadow.
Crossing through the Underlayer on his own felt lonelier than ever. Knowing that he was leaving such a supportive system behind made the sense of isolation that much more distinct. Coop already missed the uniquely helpful guides that had turned his trip through Europe into a personalized tour, complete with every amenity available to aid with his grinds, but there was nothing left for him to do there.
Pausing for a moment, he held his spear in both hands, arms straight out in front of his chest. He raised the weapon up before pulling it all the way behind his head until he touched his back. Rotating his shoulders, the exercise gave him a satisfying stretch before he went into his next mistjump.
Coop wasn’t naive enough to believe the representatives of the EEC had been helping him for entirely altruistic reasons anyway. Obviously, he was providing an enormous benefit by dealing with the Primal Construct invasions for them. He took on all the risk associated with the Underlayer Event on their behalf. Of course, that was what he had signed up for when he left Ghost Reef behind.
Still, the least they could do was hook him up with some snacks. He chuckled to himself, glad that they had recognized that much as he set his feet and sent his spear flying down the vast tunnel.
The EEC already had a policy to be friendly toward both Coop and Ghost Reef, just based on the reputation he and his allies had built with their presence on leaderboards. Once they actually met Coop, his demonstration of strength justifiably reinforced their commitment to staying on his good side. They knew as well as anyone that his support was invaluable, and they did their best to avoid seeming ungrateful the entire time Coop interacted with them.
Their behavior wasn’t forced by the system either. Regardless of his level, they made their own judgment, based on the disposition of their society. He supposed that was one of the problems with humans, having already established value systems that may or may not conflict with those of the galactic community. They had grown too independent to easily conform to the broader norms without asking questions and comparing them to their own principles. Whether there was an objective truth to morality didn’t really matter to someone like Coop. The fact was that if something seemed wrong to him, crossing some undefined line, he didn’t want to have to tolerate it.
Coop shrugged to himself, unwrapping a chocolate while assuming most people would feel the same way.
In any case, he had to admit that the EEC had done a good job getting on his good side, considering how much he would have liked to have them follow along and provide the same support elsewhere. He really felt appreciated, which was part of the reason why leaving was weighing upon his thoughts.
However, Marcus would be responsible for establishing proper diplomatic channels, not Coop. Coop was merely carrying a message regarding the Lighthouse and the Eradication Protocol while properly illustrating the depths of Ghost Reef’s power. They had received most of the message before he had arrived, just by watching the leaderboards, but a little reinforcement wasn’t a problem for Coop, and now they had some future threats to consider.
There were less regular citizens available to impress while he was in Europe, but there were enough regular low-level workers to have an effect. While Coop was polite toward them and always appreciative toward their offers to help, he was absolutely ruthless when it came to combat. He left no room for doubt that he was on a level that meant direct opposition would be absurd. Coop was sure they would talk about him after he was gone, and not always in official settings. Empress City had taught him the power of rumors, and he was more conscious of planting the seeds to build Ghost Reef’s reputation as he traveled the world.
After catching his spear, surveying his surroundings, then taking another running start before launching his weapon, he stretched his neck and sighed again, waiting for the weapon to travel through miles of pure mana. The emptiness he sensed within was like a migraine that grew in the absence of combat or comfort. Coop grunted at the observation.
His desire to hunt had grown more insistent ever since Dedicating his path in the abyss, though he was pretty sure it was psychosomatic. Once he had entered the Underlayer there were just so many potential grinds, he couldn’t help but feel a little greedy about them. That would have happened no matter what, but Coop snorted, chuckling at the idea that he was feeding a cute little baby Sethrak as he went.
“Good thing there’s plenty of experience to go around.” He jested before disappearing through the mists again.
The meditation that came from long distance travel was something Coop didn’t particularly enjoy. He needed something more strenuous to put him into his happy place. Exercise, combat, and manual labor all worked, but teleporting on what felt like a treadmill wasn’t it. The stop and go nature prevented him from settling into the mindless rhythms that put him in the zone while doing other things. Constantly forcing himself to be diligent in checking for landmarks, so that he wouldn’t miss meeting people or pass by places, weighed on his consciousness.
After a few hours of boredom and frustration, snacking on delicious chocolates to pass the time as he crossed the endless expanse beneath the Saharan Sea, he actually considered an alternative. What if he refrained from mistjumping?
“I could just run.” He innocently observed, popping another treat into his mouth as he considered his options.
His stats had exploded to such an extent that even without using his skills, he could chew through the distance and maybe find his happy place in exercise, staving off the void within. He could even cast Inheritance of the Mists for a non-combat purpose, right? Maybe Hermes could hook him up with an upgrade to his gladiator sandals, pushing his speed up to more acceptable levels.
It was a nice thought, but unfortunately, no matter how fast he was, there was no way it would compare to his mistjumps. Unless he had Camila’s Interceptor class, running wasn’t a good enough alternative to his teleports. The fact that peoples’ lives were still on the line meant that he would have to eschew the comfort of activity in favor of efficiency.
“It is what it is.” He mumbled as he mistjumped forward and repeated the process, watching as wisps of abyssal mana prettily mixed with the ghostly aquamarine spectral mana.
The Underlayer beneath Africa was exactly as it had been throughout Europe, Canada, the East Coast of the United States, and Ghost Reef. Empty dirt, smothered with energy. It was all the same.
Coop thought about decorating with some vegetation to spruce the place up. The sterile environment had already been contaminated as soon as the place opened to humans, so he was happy to imagine turning it into an enormous garden. Otherwise, how long would it take for pioneering species to make it down?
“Would the plants even grow?” He wondered as he threw his spear, doing anything to distract himself from the repetitive travel.
The underground layer may have been thoroughly illuminated, but it wasn’t sunlight filtering deep into the Earth. There were also zero fluctuations in the mysterious light source. No night time, no sunsets or sunrises, just steady illumination.
“I kinda hate it.” Coop mumbled as he reappeared at the end of another jump.
The lack of variance made him imagine decorating even more. If only they could overcome the erosion caused by the flow of pure mana in the ley lines.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
The corals of the mana well outside of Ghost Reef came to mind, proving the adaptability of life. They were thriving in a sunless environment based on high concentration of mana alone, so it seemed possible to add a little something to the dirt plains. The Underlayer could also be the first place they really innovated with mana, building without the system’s structured guidance, assuming they could overcome the corrosive effect of ley lines.
Coop thought it would be nice, but in the back of his mind, he was worried if enough people would even survive the Eradication Protocol for it to make sense to imagine expansions beyond Ghost Reef’s fort. Visiting other places had him getting ahead of himself when it came to his other priorities. Worse was coming. The thought was sobering.
He focused up, searching for the distinct rings of illumination that marked the objectives like a heat seeking missile.
Mistjump after mistjump took him closer and closer to the equator, and he passed the time by doing his best to envision his battles, planning his quick swap rotations around casts of Inheritance instead of snacking. If there were enough enemies, he could settle into a steady five minute rotation where the bursts of power would land with emphasis while he set up an infinite grind. The multi-minute crescendos were quickly becoming his favorite tactical cadences.
When he finally spotted something new, he was genuinely relieved to step off the treadmill. He caught his spear and squinted at the profiles in the distance, wondering exactly what it was, and if he could fight it.
What Coop spotted wasn’t a fork in the path, nor was it a set of control points guarded by Primal Constructs. Instead, it looked like some kind of fence that spanned the entire width of the underground. Each of its posts were separated by relatively large gaps, but the fact that it extended across hundreds of miles was noteworthy, like some faction had decided this was their border, and they wanted the whole world to know.
Coop stood still, assessing the structure from what could have been miles away before realizing that large posts were actually individual people wielding tall oval shields. The shields were decorated in a variety of ways, bunched in groups of matching patterns, like they designated specific affiliations within a larger conglomeration of people. The protective equipment doubled as banners of affiliation.
“Hm.” He hummed to himself, not entirely sure how he felt about such an endeavor.
As simple as it was to have a bunch of people stand in a line, Coop recognized that it was a massive show of force. Coop got the message loud and clear; they had so many soldiers to spare, they could have more than 50,000 just standing around while the event was ongoing.
If they went through the effort in this tunnel, he figured they had done the same on their other sides. Maybe they didn’t have any forks in their section of the Underlayer, but he could at least assume they had to have at least one other shield wall. That meant having as many people idle as Empress City had residents, at a minimum.
“Insane.” Coop muttered.
It wasn’t a posture that offered the same type of hospitality that he had found from the EEC. They couldn’t send a signal that said ‘stay away’ any more blatantly, but it was certainly impressive.
Coop shrugged to himself, figuring he would introduce himself anyway. What was the worst that could happen? Most of the consequences would be on their side.
He planted his spear in the ground, disarming himself to avoid the most obvious misunderstandings, and just walked. It was impossible for him to make himself any more unthreatening than a lone unarmed wanderer, though even in that state, he thought they would be wary. His level wasn’t something he could leave behind.
It took a while for them to notice him, but their reaction was relatively predictable. Coop was hoping they would send someone out to speak with him, but instead a portion of them grouped up, forming a simple two-layered phalanx with their decorated leather shields, clearly prepared to fight, no questions asked.
Coop kept walking, undeterred, but as he drew closer, it grew more obvious that they weren’t interested in anything he would have to say. He put his hands out in the most non threatening manner possible and they responded by launching javelins in his direction.
Coop didn’t flinch, but he did stop walking, frowning at the projectiles instead. He was still far too distant to actually communicate with words, though attacking him was enough to fully get the message across. They weren’t particularly welcoming to outsiders.
He briefly considered knocking some sense into them, but it would have only been to satisfy himself. He wasn’t traveling through the Underlayer with the intention of fighting humans. It was the alien invaders he was after. Coop could turn back and help other groups that might be more appreciative, but the thought of doubling back through the empty Underlayer beneath the Saharan Sea made him annoyed.
“Nah.” Coop shook his head, refusing to be turned away when it would waste his own time to such an extent.
Coop mistjumped back to his spear, disappearing from their view. The only trace of his presence was a small puff of mists that disappeared into the Underlayer’s empty breeze. He wouldn’t be surprised if they thought they had imagined his approach, lulled as they must have been by the emptiness of the Underlayer. The image of them glancing at each other and trying to understand the mass hallucination made him chuckle.
Safely, from a distance, Coop lobbed his spear high in the sky, repeating the process several times as he mistjumped higher and higher before he was satisfied with his altitude. He was brushing into the vaporous clouds, making it impossible to discern the individual soldiers that had blocked his way. From there he pushed forward, sticking closer to the ceiling than the floor.
The movement was slower, but more frantic, his throws necessarily shorter, so that he wouldn’t fall while waiting for his spear to fly. He figured temporarily moderating his pace was fine. He couldn’t be too far from some settlements, given the presence of such an organized force. Besides, he’d rather take the extra precaution to avoid bumping into any sort of barriers or arrays they managed to install to keep people out. Remembering the turtle shield that protected Ghost Reef encouraged him to play it safe.
Coop didn’t come back down until he spotted the red illumination of objectives controlled by the Primal Constructs. The invaders received a nasty surprise when he crashed into them, already calling upon Inheritance of the Mists, in order to continue with his self-imposed mission of defensive conquest.
If he was honest with himself, this was a much more appropriate strategy for his style. Rather than raise the Ghost Reef banner with his presence, he actually was like a ghost, haunting their territory, while killing the invaders. He hoped the additional intrigue would create a real legend that could pierce their obviously hostile approach to outsiders. The Revenant’s hunt couldn’t be discouraged by mere mortals.
Coop let the relief wash over him as his stress and anxieties disappeared into the song of battle. Finally, a satisfying rhythm to go with his physical exertion. The Primal Constructs melted away, ultimately disappearing in a time that was too short to completely satisfy the Champion. A quarter of a million enemies wasn’t enough for him. It was an appetizer at best.
Surprisingly, he only made it halfway through capturing the third of the four freshly liberated control points before a squad of human soldiers appeared on the horizon, rushing toward him. They were equipped in a similar way to their shield wall, presenting patterned decorations on their gear, though they had a variety of roles based on the items they carried.
Coop sighed as he realized the objective spotlights didn’t help him remain incognito, working against him by advertising his accomplishment, though the words he carved in the dirt would have done the same. This time, with the leverage of a cleared set of control points, he thought he might have a chance to properly introduce himself at least.
He wasn’t exactly wrong, but the reception still wasn’t friendly. Coop was able to declare who he was, where he had come from, and what he was doing: killing monsters, but that wasn’t enough for the human soldiers to change their stance. They didn’t have the authority to change their own mission, it seemed. Conversation was out of the question.
They took up a hostile posture, behaving like experienced combatants, with formations and roles that weren’t entirely dissimilar to the standards of the galactic community, though they were arranged into larger squads. They had obviously taken some inspiration from some alien factions while maintaining their own human identity in their organization.
A quick inspection of their auras revealed that none of them were associated with any alien factions, regardless of if they had been influenced by them or not. He supposed at least that much was similar to the EEC, where humans had ultimately decided to abandon the factions that had made them Chosen in favor of taking responsibility for themselves. If they were going to be left alone to fend for their lives within the assimilation, why should someone else get all the credit? He figured they could find common ground on some level.
When the squad of 20 soldiers shouted their belligerence toward Coop, he simply left, moving to the next settlement. Their levels weren’t enough to force him away, but he figured he could use their aggression to his advantage.
“If that’s how it’s gonna be, you can capture your own control points.” Coop muttered under his breath.