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Chapter 209 - Second Ascent (XIII)
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 01:00:03 +0000 UTCOctober 24, 2024 - Gashaka, Nigeria
“They’re making their move—that precision, that speed—unbelievable!”
The TV flickered in the dimly lit room, standing out against the otherwise modest home. Imani’s wife sat stiffly, her hands clutched tightly. The children were motionless, eyes wide, the youngest gripping onto his mother’s sleeve. A man in a crisp suit stood behind them, arms crossed, unreadable.
“Oh my god—Imani took a direct hit! He—”
She inhaled sharply. Her grip tightened.
The screen blurred with the impact. Imani—struck, launched, swallowed by the ocean’s depths.
“We can’t see under the water—no visuals! Is he alright? Wait—Alonso! Alonso is diving in! He’s going after Imani!”
A flash of movement. A lone figure slicing into the abyss. The darkness swallowed them both.
“What’s happening? No way to reconstruct any image from inside! The water’s too murky—no feedback, no tracking, nothing! But the others—they’re moving! They’re closing in on Alonso and Imani’s location—”
A ripple. The ocean surface breaking.
“That—IMANI?! He’s been blown out of the water! He’s bleeding—shoulder torn through—”
The screen shook as the camera zoomed in. Blood trailed through the sky. His massive form twisted midair, uncontrolled, spiraling from the force of the attack.
“They’re in! The team is in! Impeccable timing—the execution—flawless! Wang and Chiara intercept Imani! Ayu rushes in after Alonso! Lukas and Arjun, covering fire—”
A sharp inhale. The camera locked onto Imani, cradled in Wang and Chiara’s grip as they pulled him toward the squads.
“They’ve got him.”
A slow exhale from Imani’s wife, her grip loosening just slightly.
October 24, 2024 - Jaisalmer, India
“The shots just keep coming—they aren’t giving it a second to breathe.”
Arjun’s wife sits stiffly, her small daughter nestled in her lap, hands pressed over the child's eyes. The little girl peeks through her fingers, whispering her father’s name. Behind them, the family stands in tense silence, eyes glued to the screen.
“I’ve just received data—31 of the creature’s eyes have been taken out by Arjun alone! Even at this distance, every shot lands with impeccable precision and speed. What a sharpshooter! Even mid-air, dodging those monstrous octopuses trying to take him down, he just makes the time to keep firing, again and again—unshaken!”
A gasp ripples through the room. Arjun’s father nods once, arms crossed, his grip tightening. His mother clutches her scarf, murmuring a prayer.
On-screen, slow motion—Arjun mid-air, releasing a bullet. A tentacle slashes past, missing by less than an inch. Water explodes around him, droplets suspended in time.
October 24, 2024 - Johnson Space Center, Houston, Texas
Stephen stood in his office, arms crossed, eyes locked on the massive screen. His fingers drummed against his bicep, his breath steady—too steady.
“Chiara Lin—my goodness, look at that speed! She’s clocking in at 128 km/h, weaving through the air like a missile. No hesitation, no wasted motion, just pure control! She’s dodging those tendrils like they’re moving in slow motion—look at that roll, just skimming past a spike by less than an inch!”
His grip tightened.
On-screen, Chiara shot forward, dipping and twisting in midair, her trajectory shifting in the blink of an eye.
“All Climbers maintaining formation—this is insane! Projectiles flying from every angle, but they just keep going! Wang banking left, right through a storm of spikes! Alonso ducking just in time, his sword deflecting one mid-flight! Arjun—still firing mid-dodge, still landing his shots! The coordination, the reflexes, this is next level! They… they’re in complete control of the battlefield!”
Stephen exhaled slowly. His gaze never left her.
October 24, 2024 - Isan, Thailand
“Alonso is dropping Ayu—and look at that! No words needed. Just a look, a nod. The kind of understanding that doesn’t need words. That’s trust and confidence.”
Santi exhaled through his nose, eyes locked on the screen. He knew that look. Knew that stance.
He grinned.
His girl… she was no damsel waiting to be saved. She had never been.
“Time is slipping away—Ayu’s already on the move! Look at that footwork, running over the water like it’s solid ground! She’s weaving between the octopuses, barely breaking pace! But—wait, sudden attack on Lukas!”
Santi’s brow twitched, leaning forward.
“Lukas barely evades! A split-second leap—no room for error! The others—there they go, diving in! But Alonso—he’s not dodging, not weaving—he’s going straight for it! Oh my god, those strikes! The speed, the angles—look at the way he’s cutting through! That swordsmanship! I… I almost feel sorry for the monster.”
Santi’s eyes narrowed slightly. He had seen world-class fighters before. But this… this was something else. A brutal efficiency. Superhuman reflexes. A relentless, honed instinct. Even among the others, it was clear—Alonso was in a league of his own.
He gave a small nod of approval.
His daughter had a good eye, alright.
October 24, 2024 - Shanghai, China
"Wang comes in—WOW! What a display! Look at that movement in the air, the way he spins through the attack, slicing clean through—absolute mastery with the blade! Just beautiful. I could watch this all day!"
In the grand mansion—modern, sleek, yet carrying echoes of tradition—a refined middle-aged woman sat stiffly, watching the screen with sharp, unblinking eyes.
Beside her, a young girl, no older than twelve, shot up in excitement, hands raised high. "Mom! The spinny move! He did the spinny move!"
Her mother barely reacted, her lips pressed into a tight line. A hand clenched against her arm, nails digging in, a silent tell of her unease. Still, she gave a small nod, her gaze never leaving the screen.
"They are tearing through it now! Alonso—ruthless, attacking with everything he's got! But look at the teamwork! Wang, Ayu, Chiara, Arjun—no hesitation! And another shriek! Wait—hold on—it's going under! It’s escaping again!"
A sharp breath in the room. On-screen, Wang hovered mid-air, his sword dripping with thick, blue blood. His armor glistened, soaked in seawater, his stance steady, unwavering.
The girl’s eyes shined in awe.
Her mother exhaled, in slight relief.
October 24, 2024 - Melbourne, Australia
Jack’s breath hitched, his chest tight, hands gripping his knees as he sat forward, unblinking.
This… this was beyond anything he had imagined.
Alonso—his best friend—was flying! Not just flying, but battling like a warrior ripped from the pages of myth.
This wasn’t an exaggerated movie. It wasn’t some high-budget CGI spectacle.
This was real.
And then—
“Wait, what is happening? Alonso is rushing through the air—straight for Imani and the others. But… that urgency… Oh no.”
The screen flickered.
The creature rose.
Its grotesque form, slick with blood and seawater, towered over the battlefield. But it wasn’t just rising.
It was preparing something.
All around it, the tentacles spread wide, forming a jagged, pulsing spectacle. A cage of spikes. Its entire body trembled with sickening anticipation.
And then, in an instant—
They were launched.
More than a hundred spikes. Dozens of jagged fangs. A death storm aimed directly at the Climbers.
“They… they can’t dodge that! That’s—!”
And then, like a flash of light—
Alonso.
There.
In front of them.
Swords raised.
A shield of flesh and blood against an unstoppable tide of death.
“Wait! Alonso is there. He—”
Silence.
The first impact.
The sheer force sent shockwaves through the screen.
Another.
The ground cracked beneath him. His body shuddered from the strain.
Another—
BOOM.
A spike slammed into his guard, his arms trembling from the impact. His chest plate shattered. Blood sprayed.
Another.
A fang sliced across his ribs.
Another. And another…. and another.
And still—
He stood.
Silence.
The world froze.
The image lingered, the aftermath clear.
His mask cracked. It broke. It fell with a soft thud.
Alonso stood, chest heaving, skin slick with blood and seawater. His arms hung like broken steel, trembling—yet still holding.
His mask—gone.
His face—bare.
No words.
No movement.
Then—finally—the other side.
Bullets ripped through the air. Arjun. Ayu. Chiara. The final eyes burst, dark blood spraying into the churning sea.
The beast trembled. A brief, violent shudder.
And then—
Nothing.
The massive form collapsed inward, vanishing as if it had never been. The water roared, surging to fill the void it left behind.
Gone.
The world erupted.
The sheer magnitude of what had just happened broke the silence like a dam bursting.
“THEY WON!”
“HE BLOCKED THEM ALL!”
“HOW—HOW IS HE STILL STANDING?!”
“This—this is beyond strength! This is WILL! This is RESOLVE! This is—!”
A break—sharp inhale—Emilia’s voice barely kept steady.
“That is a human standing before death… and winning.”
The screen flickered—zooming in on the battlefield, on the destruction, on the bloodied figure standing amidst ruin.
"That… has to be the strongest display of defiance I have ever seen."
The visuals rewound, slowing to a near crawl, capturing Alonso in motion—deflecting an unending stream of attacks.
“Even… even at ten times slow motion, his arms are still barely visible. How extreme are this man's reflexes? I just received data—156 projectiles in 0.48 seconds. Not even half a second! Just… how?”
Jack sat frozen, eyes locked onto the screen. His breath was shallow, his fingers clenched into fists.
The camera zoomed in, Alonso’s torn body coming into focus—blood, bruises, exhaustion. His chest rose and fell raggedly, his face pale, stained with blood.
Yet that feeling…
Jealousy. Pride. Awe.
The others were shown briefly, but the broadcast kept returning to Alonso. Again and again, his moment of defiance replayed from every possible angle.
Jack leaned back, finally exhaling the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Then—he laughed.
A quiet chuckle at first, then more. A deep, raw laugh, one he hadn't let out in weeks. This military base. This sugarcoated captivity. What a joke.
He shook his head.
Show them, Alonso. Show them.
His grin sharpened.
“MAI, load up the training simulation.”
His eyes burned with renewed fire.
Wait for me… my friend.
October 24, 2024 - Madrid, Spain
"Madre mía…"
The massive screen in Barcelona's Plaça de Catalunya bathed the gathered crowd in cold blue light. Thousands stood shoulder to shoulder, eyes locked on the battlefield unfolding before them.
Then—impact.
A silence stretched across the plaza, the world frozen in time as Alonso deflected the monstrous barrage. Strike after strike. Every hit sent shockwaves rippling through his body, yet he did not falter. Bruised, bloodied, soaked in seawater, he stood his ground, his swords a blur of motion.
The sheer defiance sent shivers down their spines.
“Dios santo…” someone muttered.
And then—his mask cracked.
A faint click.
The metal fell, landing with a hollow thud against the shattered stone.
For the first time, Barcelona saw the face behind the masked warrior.
Not a legend. Not an untouchable force of nature.
A young man.
Emilia’s voice returned, cutting through the noise like a blade.
“I need everyone to understand something.” A pause, just long enough for the weight to settle. “This first generation of Climbers… they do not know that if they die, they come back.”
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap. The plaza, the world—silent.
“This isn’t a game. There is no reset button. No second chances. No do-overs.”
The screen flashed back, slowed to a near standstill—Alonso, standing alone, taking the full force of the onslaught. His swords a blur, his body breaking under the impossible pressure.
“He could have let it attack! He could have stepped aside, let that thing take someone else and struck it down while it was busy!”
The footage rewound, the creature’s grotesque maw opening wide, its jagged spikes surging forward.
“And yet—he didn’t.”
A breath. A moment stretched in time.
“He stood.”
The slowed footage replayed—Alonso’s feet crushing the stone beneath him, his arms trembling but unyielding, his body refusing to give in.
“Because that is who he is.”
Her voice sharpened, fire behind every word.
“Because that… is what it means to climb.”
The screen lingered on his face. Just a young man.
The silence stretched once more.
Then—a single clap.
Another.
And then—cheers erupted.
Loud. Fierce. A surge of voices that filled the entire square, echoing off the buildings. Flags waved. Fists rose into the air. People embraced, overwhelmed with pride, with emotion.
"¡VAMOS, ALONSO!"
"¡JODER, QUÉ GRANDE!"
Tears shone in the eyes of some of the older men, the ones who saw not just a hero—but a boy.
A Spanish boy. One of their own.
And that boy had just defied death itself for the sake of others.
October 24, 2024 - ???, India
Siddharth watched the massive screen, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“So, they finally made peace with each other,” he murmured. “Good. That is very good. They have all grown tremendously.”
His gaze lingered on the final moments of the battle, the colossal abomination disappearing into nothingness.
“But I must say… that was spectacular. A battle of that scale, and they completely dominated that giant abomination. And that Alonso at the end…” The General chuckled. “What a monster.”
Siddharth leaned back, exhaling.
“I expected no less. Someone with eyes like those… he will not fall easily, General.” His fingers tapped idly against his chair. “But more than strength, what reassures me most is that he accepted working with the others. He has grown in many ways.”
A brief silence. Then, a sigh.
“A shame, really.”
The figure behind him stirred. “Siddharth?”
“Nothing,” he waved it off, already rising from his seat. “I suppose I should get ready.”
He turned, stepping toward the exit.
“At this pace… the Third Ascent shouldn’t be too far away.”
