ME Cuartas
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Chapter 275 - Jurassic Valley (XXXII)
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 00:00:07 +0000 UTCI don’t know how long it’s been.
My arms scream. My back stiffens. Fingers barely respond.
The pressure never leaves. It just gets stronger.
But I keep moving. I don’t stop. I—What?!
My waves detect something different ahead.
Tiredness immediately fades.
I swim faster. The passage ahead widens. An open cavity? The end of the river?
I send waves in every direction.
The open space is massive. More than a hundred meters across every direction.
I calm myself and push upward. And—
Splash!
I inhale.
Air.
Finally! Fresh air.
Damn, does it feel good to breathe again. So good…
I scout the cavity. There’s an air dome—fairly large. An underground lake?
Good…
I keep scanning. Rock. Water. Nothing else—wait!?
What’s that?
I swim closer. Focus my waves on the irregularity.
Something’s embedded in the rock.
I press my hands to the surface. Feel along the edges. Metal. Smooth.
I start scraping, pulling, breaking away the outer layer of stone.
Slowly, it takes shape.
Is that…
Pipes?
I focus my waves on it, but they reflect straight back. I can’t penetrate it.
Fully reflective?
I look up.
Where are these pipes going? An underground facility? Ajnal?
There shouldn’t be one here… at least it isn’t showing on my mental map of the region.
Strange…
I scan the pipes again. One of them—larger than the rest—ends just above the waterline.
The outer layer is corroded. Old. A drainage line?
I float closer and inspect it.
The opening is narrow. I barely fit.
There's a metal grate inside—bent slightly. I grab it with both arms and force it aside.
It shifts with a grinding noise, rust breaking loose.
I squeeze in. Shoulders tight. Head tilted down.
The interior is slick. Coated in residue.
I crawl forward, using elbows and knees. The slope is mild but constant. I follow the decline.
After several meters, the tunnel widens.
A faint draft hits my face. Then space opens around me.
The pipe ends abruptly. I slip through and drop.
Metal under me.
I land in a shallow basin—open, circular, slick with stagnant water.
Several other pipes converge into the room, all sealed or broken off.
The one I came through is clearly the main outlet.
The room smells faintly. A layer of rot clings to the stagnant air.
I move through the shallow water, stepping over corroded debris.
There’s another grate at the far end of the basin. Partially broken.
I make my way to it and wedge my fingers between the twisted bars.
It’s half-torn already.
One good kick—
CLANG!
The metal gives way with a screech.
I crawl through the opening, entering a new segment of the pipe system.
This one is narrower. Dry. Dust layered along the surface.
I keep low, inching forward.
After about ten meters, it forks—two branching ducts sealed off, and one narrow climb upward.
A maintenance passage?
I scale it slowly. Every grip is sharp, and the incline is steep.
Then the tunnel flattens out.
Ahead—an access hatch, already open.
The metal around it is warped. Forced.
I push through and drop down into a second chamber.
I land on a metallic floor—dry this time.
My waves sweep the chamber—low resolution at first. The reflections come back uneven.
Irregular geometry, not just flat walls. There’s structure here.
Benches. Tables. Containment frames.
All metal. Highly conductive. Every pulse comes back clean and sharp.
I move slowly, sending shorter bursts, filtering the feedback.
Surfaces layered in residue. Some flaking. Some thick.
I get closer. Touch the edge of a bench.
It’s cold. Slightly corroded.
I shift to the side. There are some crates stacked in the corner. One has fallen open.
Empty.
Another is sealed shut—welded, not latched.
I approach a larger unit along the wall. Rectangular. About two meters long. Hollow inside.
A capsule?
I run my hand along the edge. No joints. Just one faint seam.
The surface near it is discoloured. A thick patch of residue.
I kneel. Touch it with two fingers.
The texture is rough. Organic.
Smells—
I flinch.
Rotten.
What the hell...
I wipe my hand off against my side.
I scan again. My wave passes through what looks like a containment rack. Something narrow and vertical.
Slots. Also empty.
I scan again. Finer resolution this time.
In the corner—something different.
Lower reflection density.
Not solid metal.
I step closer.
Box-shaped. Cabling along one side. Partially buried under debris.
I clear it carefully.
What is this?
No interface on the exterior. But there’s a faint difference—slight irregularity.
I press my palm on it. I send a pulse into it.
Faint light.
A glow—just a flicker.
It responds. Still functional.
I follow the conductive filament and get a sense of the overall structure.
It’s slightly similar to…
Perhaps…
I focus on several points and send targeted pulses.
The system flickers.
Once, twice...
Lights come on.
My eyes react, blinking as they slowly adjust to the light I’ve been deprived of for hours.
I take a proper look around.
So indeed…
What the fuck…?
I shake my head.
A research facility. An underground, seemingly abandoned research facility.
Electronics. Remains of biological matter. Infrastructure more advanced than Ajnal’s. Heck, it even looks slightly similar to an Earth-based lab.
Where the hell am I? And why is this present in this stage? Is it a glitch in The Tower’s system?
I walk around, studying the place more carefully.
I grab a table from the corner. It’s much heavier than I expected.
I grip it between my legs and push hard with my arms, trying to break off one of its legs, but the damn thing doesn’t even twitch.
I curse and throw it across the room, slamming it against the solid wall. Not even a dent.
I look around, searching for a tool. A weapon, maybe.
My eyes lock onto the scattered boxes.
I go through them.
Most are empty. But some are not.
I grab a cylindrical object. It’s odd, with patterned etchings across its surface.
I send my waves.
It reacts.
Huh?
Words flash in my mind. The language is slightly similar to Ajnal’s, but not quite. I can make out vague meanings—life, death, weapon—but that’s it.
I set the cylinder aside and check the rest.
I find several more. Same patterns. Same reaction.
Maybe I could crack the language with enough data… but not now.
Staying here isn’t an option. I have water and oxygen, but no food. Worse, I’m alone.
What would Imani and the others think? Are they searching for me right now?
I need to get out.
I continue scanning the room and find something.
A pole. Metallic. Solid. Around a meter and a half long.
Highly conductive. I can’t bend it, even with full force.
I swing it around a few times.
I would have preferred a bladed option—but this is better than nothing.
Okay. That’s something.
I lock eyes on a structure that looks like it could be a door.
It’s slightly bent at the top.
I grip it and pull.
Clang!
I inhale deeply.
Still too tight for me to pass through.
I go at it two more times.
I study the opening, measure the gap.
I can squeeze through now.
I brace myself and slide in head-first.
I scan ahead before dropping to the other side.
My pole floats behind me under my wave control. I guide it into my hand.
The new space is dark, lit only by the sliver coming through the gap.
It’s a corridor—plain, narrow.
Dust everywhere, but the structure is intact.
I move forward.
Faint scratches line the walls as I go.
A fight?
I reach another feature on the left—looks like a door.
It’s sealed tight.
I channel my waves, try to budge it—nothing.
I leave it and continue.
Farther along, more scratches.
Light is too faint now.
I scan around me and find the same type of devices as in the previous room.
I focus my waves on them and manage to bring light into the corridor.
And then…
I stop.
My grip tightens around the pole.
On the ground, not far from me… bones. Human bones.
I walk closer and crouch.
I touch them with my hands. Still solid.
Given the size of the skull and the femur length… Ajnal?
I examine the ribs—shattered. A clean cut.
Blade wound.
This person was killed.
I check the clothing.
Faint traces of shattered armor. Metallic fragments.
But it doesn’t match standard Ajnal gear—not entirely.
I pick up what looks like a bracer.
Thin conductive filaments run along its surface.
I focus on them.
Visuals flood in.
Diagrams. Names. Symbols I can’t fully interpret. But the visuals—
Machines. No… not machines.
Mechs? Suits?
What the hell is this?
I keep parsing.
Blades. Symbols that stretch into longer forms—no, not just symbols.
Equations.
Advanced. Complex. Embedded into the design.
The rest is blurry. Corrupted over time.
I keep the bracer and strap it onto my arm.
I also take the boots and clothes.
Plain, dry.
Better than the wet, torn cloth I’ve been wearing.
Not proud of taking from the dead, but… he won’t need them anymore.
I keep walking.
Along the way, I find the remains of another—but this one is far less intact.
Mostly shattered pieces.
I search for the bracer, but it’s completely torn.
However…
I crouch and pick up a bladed piece of metal.
Small. About the size of my hand. Sharp. Conductive.
I slide it under the bracer on my arm and keep moving.
No more remains ahead.
But there’s another door to my right, a few meters away.
I head toward it.
It’s… half torn. Ripped open by force.
Given how solid these structures are… whatever did this—
Even those three-tailed bastards couldn’t.
I angle my body and slip through the gap.
My waves scan the room.
And—something scans back.
CLANG!
An impact.
I raise the pole just in time to block the incoming strike. The force throws me backward—my back slams into a reinforced panel.
Another strike follows instantly, carving fast through the air.
I throw myself out of the impact zone just as metal crashes into the wall, leaving a faint dent.
I land, pivot on my heel, and accelerate the pole with a pulse burst—low, sharp swing to the knee.
Impact.
It stumbles.
I take the moment to properly analyze it.
Humanoid frame. Reinforced plating. Exposed servo lines at the joints.
A… robot?
No time to think.
I press the attack.
Nodes flare.
I bring the pole down in a diagonal arc.
CRACK!
Contact with the head.
It recoils.
Suddenly—it shifts. Faster than expected.
Bladed arm sweeps in from the side.
I launch off the ground mid-air, wave-assisted propulsion through the pole stabilizing my body.
I twist, redirect, land several meters back.
It’s struggling—limb coordination is misaligned.
Its movement is unbalanced. Damage evident.
Good.
I charge. Sidestep a clumsy swing, rotate my hips, and convert the torque into a direct thrust.
The pole punches into the leg joint.
Structural failure. The limb collapses.
It falls—but counters during descent.
Wide arc. Predictable.
I twist my torso out of line, follow through into a spinning motion—momentum carries the pole into another head strike.
CRACK!
Louder this time.
Sparks.
A brief sizzle.
That sound—fried circuits alright.
I exhale. I lower Overdrive.
"The fuck was that..."
I walk toward it. Faint filaments run through the inner structure—similar to modern Earth electronics. The exterior is hardened metal.
I stare at the bladed limb. Doesn’t look too shabby.
I manage to tear it out after breaking a few connections here and there. It’s heavy—more like a scimitar than a sword. The grip isn’t great, and it’s heavier than I’m used to, but… still feels better than the pole in my hands.
I study the rest of the frame, noting the intricate construction of the automaton.
How long has this thing been running for?
There’s a central power unit located beneath the chest plate—large, reinforced. Several conduits run outward, branching into multiple energy points that—
Wait.
I narrow my eyes. The storage layout is eerily similar to the path to Stone Jaguar.
So the base is definitely Ajnal… right?
I stand and scan the room again. More panels. Broken chairs. Tables. Sections of the walls stripped or bent.
I spot a weird, long circular plate and pick it up.
A battery of some kind. Nearly empty.
I send a pulse into it and watch as it begins to recharge—slowly, but it reacts.
Interesting.
Maybe I should fashion a backpack before I leave this place. Some potentially useful stuff.
I move around the room, careful, searching.
More cylinders. A few still functional.
Some contain data—fragments of text, language I don’t fully understand. But more samples mean more context. Cracking the language might be possible at this rate.
But among all the sources of information, one stands out.
“So that’s how it is…”
