ME Cuartas
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Chapter 248 - Jurassic Valley (V)
🕑 Added 2025-04-11 00:00:06 +0000 UTC“I’m picking up a lot of background noise,” I mutter, narrowing my focus. “But no clear signatures. At this range, I think only those who’ve reached the First Pillar State could pick me up.”
“So that means Chiara, Lukas, Arjun, and Wang aren’t in this direction,” Imani says beside me, his eyes scanning the wide expanse below. “But others could be.”
The region stretches endlessly—dense forest, broken ridges, patches of open land. In the far distance, I spot a wide river cutting through the valley, and just beyond that, the glint of a lake catching faint sunlight.
“Yeah. I’ll stay here a bit longer. Try to filter the noise, adjust the sweep angles—see if anything solid shows up. If not…” I glance up toward the ridge. “We go higher. The mountain’s blocking a good chunk of the west from this position anyway.”
“Right.” Imani folds his arms. “Shame I can’t help. I haven’t trained the Pillar Path.”
“No big deal,” I say, still multitasking—switching frequencies, adjusting signal amplitudes. “Wouldn’t make much of a difference anyway.”
I pause, then add, “This stage is huge. If the last one was a mini planet… this one? Judging by the horizon curve—it’s close to Mercury’s scale.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him thinking the same thing I am.
Big stage. Big unknowns. And no signs of the others yet.
“How’s gravity treating you, by the way?” I ask, still tuning my wave spread. “You told me the Body State was interacting with your Awakening—further increasing your mass. Can you still move okay?”
“I can manage,” he replies, tone even. “Just a bit slower. And—” he chuckles, rare and dry “—I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to fly at this point.”
“Well…” I glance at him, smiling faintly. “This is the part where I say flying’s overrated—but that’d be a lie. A white lie, maybe.”
“Mm.” He smiles too—small, but real.
“Anyway, you hit harder than any of us. That’s got to count for something.”
He nods, silent for a moment.
“You ever think about your kids and wife?” I ask, voice a little lower. Not prying—just honest.
“All the time,” he says without hesitation.
The wind brushes past us. Cold. Quiet.
“I never asked, but… how old are they?”
“Oldest is eight,” he says, still scanning the horizon. “Then seven, five… and the little one should have just turned three.”
I glance sideways. His face stays still, but there’s a softness around the eyes now.
“Names?”
“Zara, Emmanuel, Adaeze, and little Ife.”
I nod slowly. “Strong names.”
“They are,” he murmurs. “Zara’s already taller than her mom. Wants to be a doctor. Emmanuel thinks he’s a superhero—never takes that cape off. Adaeze’s sharp. Doesn’t miss a thing. And Ife…” He pauses. “She just wants to hold your hand when she sleeps.”
A breath leaves him.
“They’re my strength. But also my weight.”
“You carry both well,” I say.
He gives a small nod. “We all carry something.”
I don’t reply. Just let the silence settle again, the wind sweeping the ridge like it’s listening too.
I extend my senses—waves rippling across the terrain, reading the dips and rises, scanning for signatures.
“Well, nothing out here. They might be using EM cloaks, though… In any case, I doubt we’ll pick up much from here.” I pause. “Looks like we keep climbing.”
Imani hums quietly. “Let’s move, then.”
We return to the others.
"How’s the cold treating you?" I ask, loud enough for the group to hear as we close in.
Camila adjusts the strap on her shoulder. "Manageable. For now."
"It’ll get worse the higher we go," I say. "Layer up and double-check your seals. The temperature drop isn’t natural—it’s too fast. And the sunlight’s fading the higher we climb."
Jun nods silently. Maurice frowns, checking his gear. Min’s already adding up another layer of cloth.
We start moving again. The path narrows as we push upward. Steeper. Colder. Rock gives way to ice crusting along the edges of the slope. Every breath fogs.
I take the lead, steps careful but fast. My waves sweep ahead in regular bursts, sensing the stone, the trees, the thin air around us.
Then, several minutes in—I stop.
Something’s off.
A flicker. Like a twitch in the wind, subtle, almost missed.
I raise a hand behind me, a silent signal.
Wait.
Then I push forward alone—quieter now, all focus on my senses. My waves flow in narrow, layered bursts. Nothing pings back.
And yet…
I push Overdrive—not all the way. Just enough to sharpen the margins.
Another ledge. I climb it slowly and reach a wide overhang above the slope.
A cave.
The mouth is broad, dark, rimmed with frost. My waves sweep again—still nothing bouncing back.
Then my eyes lock onto them.
Eggs.
Three of them. Each nearly as tall as I am. Smooth shells. Frost collecting across their surface like breath held too long.
But that’s not what holds my focus.
Behind them, further in the cave, curled against the ice—
A creature.
Long wings folded across its frame. Talons buried into frostbitten stone. Its hide is dark blue, streaked with icy silver. Electric arcs dance faintly across its back. Antennae twitch like sensors, each breath drawn slowly through its jaws.
And with every inhale—
The air grows colder.
Not just chilled. Sapped. The warmth in the cave dims like it's being drained away, stolen. The floor around it is thick with ice—clear, cracked, slick. Some of the nearby stone is shattered, frozen mid-break.
A wyvern.
I drop into a crouch, just behind a slant of rock. Heart steady. Blades untouched. I don’t breathe loud enough to count.
I send a faint wave back to Imani, showing him the visuals.
He replies—Be careful.
I send a thumb up in response.
Then I shift slightly, adjusting my angle, eyes locked on the creature. Analyzing its structure.
Simply put—it shouldn’t be able to fly. Not under this gravity. Not with that size. The air up here is thicker, pressure lower. On top of that, it’s leeching heat from the surroundings—making the pressure differential worse.
So the only explanation left: its wave output is obscene. High enough to override natural limitations. Enough to force lift. Its body must be highly conductive too. Judging by the silver gleam of its hide, that tracks.
And it’s damn near invisible to EM detection. Lower frequencies? Canceled. Fully. Both it and the eggs. Only higher frequencies—like visible light—still reach me.
But everything I’m reading… points to one conclusion.
If this thing wakes up—
We will all die.
Even if it’s just a wyvern, my instincts tell me it could beat the crap out of the lava dragon from the last stage without even trying. They’re not even in the same league.
Now… what to do?
Do we risk passing it and hope its slumber is deep enough? But with that kind of wave output, wouldn’t it easily detect even minor disturbances? Unless…
I narrow my eyes, watching the way frost gathers near its mouth with every breath.
Maybe it’s in some kind of deep hibernation. Not just sleep—something denser. Intentional. Like its entire system is downregulated to near-zero, wave activity cycling inwards instead of scanning.
Could be the reason it hasn’t noticed us yet.
Or maybe… it simply doesn’t care. No predators. Nothing here strong enough to challenge it. Why stay alert when you’re already the top of the chain?
I slowly scan the cave again. The eggs are intact—undisturbed. No drag marks. No shell fragments. Likely not hatched. Which means this is a nesting ground. Maybe a breeding site. And we’ve just stumbled into it.
I was 99% sure this mountain would have a surprise—but not this kind of surprise. Not something we have absolutely no chance against.
Well… maybe that’s why The Tower has it in slumber.
I steady my breathing.
We can’t risk it.
“Imani, we’re turning back,” I send. “Reroute to the previous spot—we’ll take a detour west, stay as far from here as possible.”
“Ok.”
I give the wyvern one last look.
Maybe we’ll meet again someday…
I nod once, then begin retracing my steps down the ridge.
Ayu’s body dripped blood—hers and theirs. But mostly theirs.
She had lost count of how many she'd killed. Dozens, maybe more. They just kept coming. One after the other.
She didn’t want to fight. Not yet. She wanted to regroup. To find the others. Every time she carved through one creature, she sent waves out—wide arcs, long pulses, stronger bursts. She climbed ridges, hills, even trees for better line of sight. Nothing. No answers. No signals.
Instead, the creatures came.
Some alone. Some in pairs. Some in droves. As if drawn to the resonance in the air. To her. Like a challenge.
Only the larger herds in the far distance avoided her.
So she kept moving—forward, always forward. A crimson trail marking her path through the forested expanse. Her armor, dented and stained, clung to her like second skin. Her helmet cracked down the side, visor half-shattered. Useless now. She’d ripped it off hours ago.
The orbs barely gave her anything. SP was climbing slow—painfully slow—but she’d already passed 8.5%. Enough to feel it. Her frame tighter. Her steps firmer. Her senses sharper. The next threshold in her Body Path was becoming clearer—hovering just within reach.
But there was no time to sit down. No chance to focus on breakthroughs.
No rest.
They kept coming.
Were they tracking the blood? The scent? Her waves? She didn’t know. Didn’t care.
She’d already moved more than two hundred miles—maybe more. She had no map, just instinct. Just her gut. She’d seen things—creatures in forms she couldn’t even describe properly. Some fast. Some brutal. Some smart. One had feinted injury to bait her. She tore its spine out on the second pass.
Even with her reflexes—her body’s subconscious dodge, her predator’s instinct—she’d still been pushed. The arachnid had been the worst. Massive. Armored. Lightning blooming from its arms. Her chestplate had caved from one strike, ribs bruised. She’d nearly passed out when the current hit.
But she didn’t fall.
Didn’t slow.
Her blade moved before her thoughts did. Her knees crushed stone. Her elbows broke bone. She cut, crushed, clawed—nonstop.
She was small, yes. But she was built for this. Flexible. Fast. There was no fear left in her—just rhythm. Attack, kill, move.
She wouldn’t die here.
She wouldn’t stop here.
And if this stage wanted to drown her in blood—
Then fine.
Let it drown.
“I found water. Sending visuals and location.”
Lukas replied almost immediately. “Good. Bit far, but manageable. How’s the route?”
“Some small raptors along the way. But the closer I get to the river, the more it seems dominated by herbivore packs. I have visual on at least six different groups. Their numbers grow further upstream.”
“Makes sense. Herds mean safety. Predators avoid the bulk. We’ve got enough water for now—no need to rush. We’ll move to refill in two days.”
Wang hesitated for a moment before sending again. “How long are we staying in this spot?”
“A week, at least,” Lukas said. “We’ve got almost half our force here. The others won’t stop moving—I know them well enough. So we do the opposite. We hold, dig in, and scan. We’ll be their anchor.”
He let a breath out before continuing. “Chiara’s already optimized the scanning net. Over thirty kilometers, full spherical range. Layered to avoid attention.”
Wang’s answer came a second later. “Alright. What else should I handle?”
“Follow the river,” Lukas said. “Trace where it leads. Look for elevation—hill crests, ridgelines, anywhere that offers view or defensibility. And keep an eye out for patterns. Paths, broken foliage, repeat movements. If anyone else is heading for water, that’s where we’ll see it first.”
“Understood,” Wang sent back. “I’m on it.”
“Stay sharp,” Lukas added. “You’re our eyes out there.”
Lukas disconnected, took his helmet off and leaned back with a quiet breath. The shelter had grown since the first day—dug deeper, wider, with separated chambers carved into the earth. Reinforced walls. Camouflaged exits. Nothing fancy, but it worked.
There wasn’t much to do here. They rotated between conversation, digging, and training—Body Path, Pillar Path, wave control. Just enough to keep minds from rusting.
He made his way toward Chiara’s space. A modest alcove, marked by a makeshift wooden door wedged into a dirt frame for a little privacy.
He stopped just outside. “Can I come in?”
A few seconds passed.
“Yes,” came her voice, calm, muffled slightly through the door.
Lukas stepped in.
The room was bare—dirt walls, reinforced with a simple wooden frame. A small pack in one corner. No bed. Barely any light.
Chiara sat cross-legged on the ground, dressed in casual wear, her helmet still on.
As Lukas stepped in, she looked up and set the helmet aside.
“How’s Wang?” she asked. “Any news from outside?”
“He found freshwater. A river.”
Chiara nodded. “That’s good.”
Lukas mirrored the gesture. “How’s the training going?”
“Not bad,” she said, adjusting her position slightly. “I still need a bit more time. If I’m lucky, maybe a breakthrough in a day or two. If not… a couple of weeks.”
“If you could raise your SP, it’d surely help,” Lukas replied, then sighed. “But you leaving the base is a big risk for the rest of us.”
Chiara smiled faintly. “It’s alright. No hurry. I’ll get there eventually. And honestly? This place is surprisingly peaceful.”
A brief silence passed between them.
“I’m sorry for putting most of the work on you,” Lukas said quietly.
“Well,” Chiara said, brushing a bit of dust from her pants, “the best skill a leader can have is knowing how to assign tasks to the right people.”
She leaned back, resting her arms on her knees.
“And trust me—being told what to do and not having to second-guess everything? Way better than the alternative.”
Lukas gave a small chuckle. “Fair enough.”
Comments
Silver Beard
Can't help thinking a Zian's return POV would be interesting. Still can't get over the irony that everyone wants to leave the tower; but the most obvious way out isn't climbing but losing. That said Zian did get the knowledge download. I wonder if it made the transition back to Earth.
