ME Cuartas
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Chapter 279 - Jurassic Valley (XXXVI)
🕑 Added 2025-05-31 00:00:06 +0000 UTCChiara focused on the 3D image in her head.
One of her minds mapped every moving element around her—every Xok’al, every twitch in their muscles, every wave they emitted, the EM domain surrounding them, each crack in the ground their feet produced, every twist in the wind caused by their blades.
Another mind analysed the incoming data. It processed the signals, filtered them, applied a Fast Fourier Transform to the spectrum, identified key frequencies, isolated components, extracted relevant features, and used that data to generate an optimal response: a counter-signal, a construct movement adjustment, or a disk deflection path if necessary.
Her third mind handled the output. It controlled all of her constructs—from K-1 Vanta to K-4 Splay—while simultaneously disrupting the domains of the three-tailed Xok’al and intercepting projectiles using her EM-sensitive disks.
To her, Wang in his battlesuit, her constructs, and those of the other Azcoyatl shamans—all of it—was data. Numbers, dimensions, arrays.
Pure input.
Data to be analysed. Data to be processed.
All her minds operated at full capacity, the boost from Lukas' link accelerating throughput by nearly 50%. Her adapted mastery of the Azcoyatl multinodal emission technique—refined and optimized for her triple-threaded cognitive architecture—had elevated her beyond the standard model.
A three-tailed Xok’al pressing Wang back suddenly froze mid-charge.
Just for a fraction of a second, an instant.
It was enough.
A hole opened in its throat—an EM-accelerated round from one of her constructs had pierced clean through, then continued on, redirecting toward secondary targets.
Wang sent her a quick thumbs-up and pushed forward with his charged blade.
His mech-suit—customized by Lukas to amplify his unique body conductivity—allowed for instantaneous high-speed bursts. He wove through the battlefield, neutralizing the two-tailed Xok’als with surgical efficiency, while the three-tailed ones were eliminated by Chiara under Lukas’ enhanced link and the coordinated assault from the other shamans.
This was her third proper battle.
Her position had steadily risen, and she was now on her way to becoming an elite shaman—a rank in the Azcoyatl second only to the primal shamans, known as the Atlachinolli, and the Meca champions, called Ixiptla Tonatiuh.
But for Chiara, that meant little.
This whole civilization was just part of this stage of the Tower. That was it. Nothing more.
After this stage would come the next—and then another—each granting more knowledge, more power. So for her… all this was a stepping stone. One she would gladly step on to pursue her goals.
In this stage, all she cared about was that knowledge—and her few friends: Lukas, Ayu… and the rest, she supposed.
As for everything else, it was just flavour to the challenge. Books to be opened and read. Treats to her Stage Progress. Raw material for her continually refined mental models.
And so… the battle went on.
Mecas were occasionally destroyed here and there. Even a shaman fell to an elite Xok’al. Wang’s armour was splintered near the ribs, but nothing serious.
And just like that… it was over.
“You were in top form today,” Lukas said as he stepped forward, scanning the remains of the battlefield, resting his EM-based shotgun on his shoulder.
“Every battle I will be better than the last, Lukas,” she said, looking at him with a faint smile. “That’s how data-driven optimisation works.”
“Eh… I’d appreciate it if you treated yourself a bit more… human, Chiara. You have your style, and that’s okay, but…” His face shifted slightly, a rare seriousness crossing it. “Don’t lose yourself in the numbers.”
Chiara stared at him but said nothing.
Wang slowly approached. His breathing was haggard, sweat dripping down his brow.
“How did the new adjustments feel? Did the new coating mitigate the interference from those three-tailed freaks?”
“Absolutely. I could still feel the resistance, but it was leagues better than last time. Thanks a lot,” Wang said, bowing slightly.
“Glad to hear that, but let’s skip the thanks,” Lukas replied with a grin. “Send me the data in a pulse and let's see if we can push it even further.”
Wang nodded, taking a moment to construct the info before sending it over.
“I see… ingenious creatures… layering to create a band gap. I underestimated these Xok’al,” Lukas muttered, then pulsed Chiara. “Any thoughts on this part?”
Chiara frowned. “What about it? It’s a basic penetration trick. Just double-coat the system with an isolating layer in between. Based on the materials you’re using, make it exactly 1.68 millimetres thick. That should be enough to block the max pulse I registered from them—assuming a one-metre proximity.”
Lukas scratched his chin. “Yeah… unfortunately that won’t work because of the secondary discharge looping back through the internal coil array. Interference builds up in the junction points—long story. Anyway, Wang, I’ll think more on it.”
Wang opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again and shook his head.
“Those bastards are strong,” he said quietly. “Even with your links active and the suit, I still can’t face them one-on-one… I…”
“Hey, take it easy man,” Lukas said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re already an official Meca warrior. You’re holding the front lines, your kill count’s higher than any shaman’s, and yeah—maybe they’re stronger now. But give it time.”
He smiled.
“You’re gaining Stage Progress fast. Once you hit the Second Pillar or Body State, the story’s gonna change completely.”
Then he sent Wang a private pulse.
“And don’t compare yourself with Chiara. She’s not a standard. She’s above the whole scale. And… she’s also gaining a bit of weight.”
Chiara twitched in the background.
Lukas grinned as he turned to look at her. “If you’re gonna spy on signals, at least keep a poker face next time.”
“You—!”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one in the wrong here.”
“Wrong in what? I’m not— I… the weight change is from the Stage Progress!”
Lukas and Wang laughed as Chiara’s lips pressed into a thin, furious line.
The laughter stopped when one of the shamans approached her—the only elite shaman in this group, and the leader of the unit.
Chiara turned to face him, while Lukas and Wang stepped aside to give them space.
“You are growing quickly, Child of Nan.”
“Thank you, Elder,” Chiara said, forming a triangle with her hands and leaning forward slightly.
“Your contribution to our empire will not go unnoticed. The elders have approved your formal induction as one of us, and we invite you to our sacred city, Teohuacan, to meet our High Priest and Lord,” he paused. “Will you accept our invitation, Child of Nan?”
Chiara repeated the gesture, bowing this time. “It will be my honor, Elder.”
A week has passed since I got stuck in this damn hellhole.
The Xok’al is nothing but bones, and I’m starting to get hungry again.
I breathe in.
My eyes are closed, and I’m in the holographic view of my body inside my head. More than 99% of the capacitor nodes are now blue, integrated perfectly with my First-State mental nodes. Only two remain. Two last motherfucking, bloody asshole nodes—damn, disrupting the—ahem… calm. Calm.
I exhale.
It’s hard being calm while hungry.
The blade lying nearby floats toward my grip, and I stand up.
Right now, my progress in the Xayen body-mind capacitor node integration technique is at a true bottleneck. No matter what I shift, what I change, how many simulations I run, how much I feel around—there is no pattern that retains stable equilibrium with those last two nodes included.
As for my progress toward the Second Pillar State, it’s even further behind. While my swordsmanship—or should I now call it scimitarship?—has improved through constant practice, and I can perceive a shadow of intent, I still can’t tap into it. I can’t materialize it. It’s still no more than a good feint. And that, in itself, limits my approach toward the mental subnode resonance state.
As for the Body Path… haven’t even tried it. It depletes my energy reserves, and my current available… food—or lack thereof—doesn’t allow me the privilege of delving into it.
I exhale sharply.
Just fuck it.
I walk out of the room, turn left, casually passing over the skeletal remains of the Xayen decorating the floor, and reach the door at the end.
I extend my bracer and send a signal.
The door opens with a bang.
My scimitar rests over my shoulder as I step forward, my boot crunching on the organic, red tissue that covers their putrid underground nest with a sickening crunch.
“Alright guys, daddy’s here,” I shout with a grin.
But even before the sound of my words travels far, vibrations reach my boot from the ground, muffled by the material.
I crack my neck to each side.
Alonso’s Xok’al Butchery is now open. Free express delivery.
And so they come. One after the other. I even spot a one-tailed Xok’al. So the workers too? Am I that appealing?
I send my waves out and redirect all incoming projectiles with EM force alone.
Yeah… I may not have reached that level yet… but that doesn’t mean I’m the same as last week.
Their round projectiles come in quick succession, but they all miss—passing next to my neck, shoulders, ribs—the wind of it blowing my hair back.
“Come on guys, the hair dryer isn’t working. Just come at me,” I open my arms wide, my stance full of openings.
And just like that, the first comes. Then the second. The third right after.
They aim their waves at me, trying to interfere with mine, but I overpower them easily, slowing them down instead—their limbs stopping short of me as I casually chop their heads off one after the other.
I kick the corpses back toward the corridor behind me.
So that’s one, two, three, four…
Keep it coming, guys. The grill is waiting.
But after the seventh kill, the ones in the back suddenly stop.
They no longer shoot.
They no longer step forward.
I stare at them for a moment, then take a step back myself.
I guess this is it for today. Can’t risk an elite—
Then I feel it.
A stable, strong EM domain extending across the space.
I leap back without a second thought and send the signal through my bracer to the door panel.
It doesn’t come down.
I send another. Then another.
And… it’s already here.
It aims its three tails and—
CLANG! BANG!
I send my waves, but they only slow the projectiles down slightly. My blade deflects two. The third grazes past my jaw, close enough to burn.
I stumble back, ribs aching from the recoil. I taste blood.
Still nothing from the door.
I send pulse after pulse into the panel. Nothing.
Come on.
Come on.
“Fuck!”
Dual Overdrive.
The world slows.
My perception expands. The corridor sharpens. Everything pulls into focus.
My pulse hammers in my chest. Steady. Loud.
The air reeks of rot and iron. Dead flesh. Burned oil. Blood drying on skin.
I fix my gaze on its eyes.
They’re void of emotion.
Cold. Calculating.
My arms begin to tremble.
My legs feel too light, too far from the ground.
I try to breathe—but my chest tightens.
Those eyes—
Images crash into me.
Ixchel’s head falling.
The bloodied scythe.
That whirring sound before the strike.
The helpless moment as I dropped.
The silence after.
The nightmares. The sweat. The weight.
And now it’s standing there again.
Coming at me. Closer.
I can't move.
But then—I see her.
Her face. Her smile.
Promise me you’ll always fight to live.
I breathe in—sharp, hot.
The visions shatter, like brittle stone under my will.
My fingers still shake, but I tighten them around the grip.
I push my wave into the field—hard—throwing everything I have to cancel its momentum.
The scimitar meets its bladed limbs.
The clash sends sparks.
My body jolts from the force. My feet slide back, knees bent just enough to stay standing.
And then—
BOOM!
The door slams shut behind us.
