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Chapter 245 - Jurassic Valley (II)
🕑 Added 2025-04-08 00:00:04 +0000 UTC“Any luck?”
“Only two more,” Chiara said, opening her eyes. “My waves should have reached them, but they won’t be able to reach me back. None of them are from the main squad.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be too worried about the rest of the Awakened,” Lukas replied, arms crossed, his eyes scanning the tree line below. “They should be able to handle themselves just fine. The others, though…”
His gaze fixed on the sweeping view ahead.
From where they stood, the terrain opened into a wide expanse of dense, uneven forest. Vegetation covered the hills and valleys in all directions.
The trees reached over sixty meters in height, thick-trunked and widely spaced. Some had moss clinging to their bark, others had a dull, metallic sheen across their surface. Ferns the size of people filled the gaps between them, along with thick underbrush and coarse vines.
The air was warm and humid. The smell of sap, soil, and distant vegetation clung to each breath.
Scattered across the clearings below, clusters of dinosaur-like creatures moved in loosely organized herds. Many resembled familiar species—some built like sauropods, though smaller, compact, with dense tails and visible armor plating along their flanks. Dim pulses of light shifted under their skin with each step.
Others bore duck-like snouts and ridged crests but were clearly something else. They moved in groups, heads low, antennae along their skulls twitching and occasionally sparking in synchronized bursts.
Overhead, flying beasts glided in tight formations. Similar in shape to pterosaurs, but leaner, faster, with jagged wings and narrow tails. They circled in groups of three to five, keeping low above the canopy.
To the northeast, more movement broke the rhythm.
A group of smaller, predatory types—sleek, fast—burst from the treeline. They resembled scaled-down raptors but were more angular, built for short bursts of speed. They chased a group of stocky creatures rolling downhill—round, armored, and thick-bodied, almost like oversized armadillos with heavy plated shells.
The raptors chased with precision. Two darted ahead to intercept, while the rest pressured the rear. One of the rolling creatures unfolded midway down the hill and slammed sideways into a predator, sending both tumbling.
The rest were quickly surrounded.
Chiara watched without speaking, her expression flat. Behind her, Wang kept his eyes on the edges of the scene.
“This place…” Chiara finally said, voice quiet, almost reverent.
“You know, I used to have dreams like this when I was a kid,” Lukas said with a grin, his gaze drifting out over the jungle. “Big fan of the prehistoric era. Still am, I guess. Dinosaurs, megafauna, whole ecosystems wiped from time… felt like fantasy. Now we’re standing in something eerily close to it. But that dream turned pretty damn sharp when that komodo-raptor thing nearly tore me in half,” he chuckled.
Wang nodded. “It’s all beautiful, but there’s no doubt—it’s dangerous. Everything here looks like it’s been fine-tuned to survive in a high pressure environment. Fast reflexes. EM wave control. Layered armor. Coordinated behavior.”
“The Tower didn’t just crank up the difficulty,” Lukas added. “It created a system. Like it wants us to figure it out. Maybe even fit into it.”
Chiara’s eyes didn’t leave the terrain below. “The shift from the last stage is too sudden to be random. This is an ecological simulation. Organized food chains. Varying intelligence levels. Social structures. It’s no longer one-dimensional enemies charging blindly. These things observe, defend, flee when needed. Some even communicate with each other.”
“Yeah,” Lukas muttered. “Which brings up the obvious point—how much should we interfere?”
Chiara looked at him.
“I mean,” he went on, “we can’t just start hunting everything that moves. If this place really functions as an ecosystem, then taking out one group might set off a chain reaction somewhere else. Predators migrate. Herds collapse. Alphas fall, hierarchies shift. And those shifts… might not go in our favour.”
“I was thinking the same,” Wang said. “We need more data before we act. Observe first. Track behaviours. Identify territories. Maybe even start mapping migration patterns.”
They fell into silence for a moment as, below them, a pack of raptor-like creatures sprinted in formation, chasing down a smaller herd of tusked quadrupeds through the underbrush.
“Do you think there are boss-like creatures here too?”
“Perhaps,” Lukas said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Hard to say. For now, we’ve seen some alphas—leaders within the herds or packs. Probably some sort of elite-tier. But I wouldn’t count on those dropping a red orb or handing over some fancy equipment.”
His gaze shifted suddenly, locking onto something farther off, near the tree line of a steep ridge.
“We do have some nasty fellows though,” he muttered.
A massive figure emerged from the shade—thick-set, six-legged, standing over eight meters at the shoulder. Its body was low and broad like a tank, coated in layered, fractured plating that shimmered faintly under the light. A jagged, spiraled horn jutted from its forehead—dense, ridged, and sparking at the tip.
The creature lunged.
It hit a smaller one—a long-necked, deer-like grazer—square in the ribs, impaling it mid-stride with such force the body lifted off the ground, twitching. The horn lit up.
Then came the crack—an electrical discharge snapped through the impaled prey, its limbs seizing violently.
And before the voltage had even stopped, two more limbs unfolded from the predator’s sides—sleek, blade-like appendages that locked like pincers and clamped down.
There was no elegance in what followed.
The predator twisted once. Flesh tore.
The grazer’s body hit the ground in pieces as the rest of the herd scattered, crashing through brush in full retreat.
Wang blinked slowly. “We’re definitely not at the top of the food chain here.”
Chiara didn’t look away. “Not yet.”
“Well, alone we aren’t,” Lukas said with a small grin. “But I’m sure if we team up, we can give that reptilian arachnid—or whatever it is—a run for its money. Which brings us back to our top priority: regrouping.”
“But which direction should we move?” Chiara asked. “This is the highest point in the immediate vicinity, and my communication range is the furthest, yet even counting the two I just contacted—who should hopefully be making their way here—we’re only eleven right now.”
“Good question,” Lukas said, leaning back. “But I think it’s best if we don’t move. Not yet. Wang, you should head toward the two Chiara located and escort them back. We’ll use this point as our gathering spot. Wandering aimlessly might split us up further—and we’ve already seen how easy it is to get ambushed. We still don’t know if it’s just large creatures out there. Insects, smaller predators—they could be hiding.”
“I’ve scouted with my waves and haven’t detected any small moving targets,” Chiara noted.
“Maybe,” Lukas said, “but everything here seems to have some kind of EM wave control. That makes me think it’s likely some have adaptations to counter detection—EM cloaking, masking, something like that. Or maybe not. Either way, let’s not take chances.”
He glanced around the hilltop. “We’ll set up a temporary shelter here. The canopy gives us decent protection from aerial threats, and we’ve got high ground and excellent visibility.”
“Alright,” Wang nodded. “I’ll start moving.”
“Wait—before you go, one important thing,” Lukas said, his tone shifting just enough to catch Wang’s attention. “Avoid flying. Even if your enhanced body conductivity allows it, you’re facing two problems: the 49% added weight from reaching the First Body State, and the 70% increase in gravity. Aerial maneuvering in this environment puts you at serious risk—especially since we don’t know what’s waiting out there.”
“Got it,” Wang said with a small nod. Then, without another word, he leapt off the ridge. “I’ve already got the coordinates. See you soon.”
“So,” Lukas said, turning to the others, “let’s start setting things up.”
Ayu didn't think.
She moved.
The moment the first of the three predators lunged from the treeline, all muscle and jagged teeth, she was already airborne—blade out, knees tucked.
The creature was big. Not tall, but long—like some sort of tiger, lean and low to the ground.
Its black hide shimmered with oily green ridges, jagged and uneven. Plates of armor curled over its joints and flanks like warped bone. Antennae flared from its skull, twitching with faint EM bursts. Its claws were metallic—sharp, hooked—scraping deep, uneven grooves into the earth as it charged.
But Ayu was unfazed.
She twisted midair. Her feet landed square on its snout. Her sword didn’t swing—it stabbed, plunged between the creature’s ridged eye sockets with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across her helmet, streaked her plated arm.
The second one was already on her.
She didn’t see it—didn’t need to.
Her body moved.
Armor twisted. One foot kicked against the skull of the collapsing first, launching her sideways in a blur. A scythe-like tail snapped where she’d been a millisecond earlier.
She hit the ground hard, rolled—came up low.
Then surged.
The second beast reared, mouth wide. She was inside its reach before it finished the motion. Her elbow cracked into its throat—metal on flesh, cartilage crunching. She pivoted, low again, then exploded upward with a rising knee into its jaw.
The sword came last.
A flash.
A scream.
Its head tore open. Clean. Final.
Ayu didn’t stop.
The third one had waited—smarter, bigger, a bit slower. It moved sideways now, circling. Gauging her.
She turned.
Breathed.
And charged.
It leapt, claws out.
Her body dropped—not by choice, by instinct. Knees hit dirt, back arched, and the claws passed inches above. She sprang up inside its guard, blade dragging across its belly. The creature shrieked.
Blood sprayed across her shoulder.
It lunged again.
Her feet never stopped moving. Each step a pivot, each dodge a blur. Her sword moved with her—not in perfect form, but brutal purpose.
Slash. Step. Elbow. Knee. Twist.
She didn’t think. She didn’t plan.
She just moved. And she moved fast.
And the beast couldn’t keep up.
Another gash opened along its side. A stab to the joint. A crunch as her armored shin cracked into its head mid-turn. Its antennae twitched violently—last signals in a broken system.
And then—
Ayu flipped forward, over the creature’s lunging body, and drove her sword straight down between its shoulder blades as it stumbled past.
It spasmed. Twitched. Then collapsed.
Breathing heavy, shoulders rising and falling, Ayu stood still. Her armor dripped blood. Her hands were steady.
This was the second batch of creatures that had come for her. But honestly? They didn’t feel like much. Not to the current her.
She could feel it now—how much she’d improved. Not only was her body faster and stronger, but she could push Overdrive much further now. Her Awakening resonated with her Body State and Overdrive like they were made for each other.
Her reaction time dropped so low, it wasn’t a fight anymore—it was her playground.
But she knew not to get too confident. After the seventh boss, she understood just how ruthless The Tower could be. Even with her Awakening keeping her safe, caution was still necessary—especially until she regrouped with the others.
And speaking of them...
Ayu sent out another wave, reaching for any familiar signal.
Nothing.
This stage was different—she could feel it. Not only was the gravity stronger, but the wave transmission range was shorter. Much shorter.
But she’d already covered plenty of ground.
So where were they?
No answer.
She looked down at the corpses, blades still warm from the kill, and crouched to start scavenging the orbs.
Arjun’s breath was steady.
The creature dove—beak open, claws forward—but to him, it was crawling.
Time moved slow. Very slow.
He shifted his stance, one foot sliding back over moss-covered stone. His palm opened, sending three projectiles into the air.
Highly concentrated EM pulses formed at his fingertips—dense, needle-shaped, humming with compressed force.
His waves surged—channeling into the projectiles, wrapping them in controlled eddy currents. Variable flow. Tight acceleration windows.
They caught, sharpened, launched—darting through the air like spears of thought.
One slammed through the glider’s wing joint with a wet snap of cartilage and membrane. It spiraled down, thrashing.
Another followed—course-corrected mid-air by a last-second pulse. It clipped the second creature’s shoulder, knocking it off balance.
Arjun didn’t blink.
He fired again.
Controlled. Cold. Clean.
The first struck true—wing joint. The creature screamed—something between a shriek and static—and dropped, spinning out of control through the canopy in a scatter of broken leaves and blood mist.
Another swept in from the left—sleek, long-winged, membrane taut like an insect’s. Almost like a pterosaur, but wrong. Antennae twitched in tight arcs. Its body twisted unnaturally midair.
Slower.
Slower.
Slower.
He aimed. Fired.
The bolt caught the edge of its shoulder. Not a kill, but enough. The thing flailed and veered off course, flapping hard to escape.
Behind him, Ishaam shouted, ducking under a diving shape. Arjun didn’t look—he turned his palm sideways and snapped another shot into the air.
The glider jerked, screeched, then retreated.
The others followed.
The swarm broke and fled—wings slicing through mist, disappearing into the dense cloud layers above.
Silence returned.
A few breaths later, the others began to gather behind him—five in total, each moving with a mix of caution and awe. Ishaam was the first to speak, still catching his breath.
“That was awesome, si— Captain!”
Arjun turned his head slowly—intentionally. His gestures, measured. His voice, deliberately paced, so he wouldn’t seem too fast or odd from the others’ perspective.
“No more signatures in the area,” he said.
His waves swept the canopy again—broad, layered, efficient. Always scanning.
“Let’s finish off those still alive and scavenge the orbs. I’ll head to a high point and try to contact the others.”
The group nodded. Ishaam gave a firmer one, standing straighter, eyes wide with admiration.
To Arjun, every nod, every breath, every word came stretched—drawn out like echoes in a slow-motion film. He was used to it by now. Trained for it. His world moved in half-seconds. Theirs, in frames.
So he adjusted.
He always adjusted. Slower speech. Deliberate motion. Just enough to pass for normal. To put them at ease.
But his mind was already ahead.
His gaze drifted upward, scanning the cloudline again. The winged creatures were gone, but the pattern had changed—the way they attacked, the way they retreated.
Since when did creatures flee in The Tower?
Something felt off. And it worried him.
He was the only one from the main squad here, pushing himself to keep the others safe. If stronger enemies appeared before they could regroup with the rest...
They needed to hurry.
