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Chapter 122 - Pangea (I)
🕑 Added 2024-11-23 05:23:43 +0000 UTCThe ground under Alonso’s boots was rough, almost coarse, dotted with fractured stones and patches of cracked earth that flaked at the edges.
A faint layer of dust clung to everything, stirred only by the occasional soft gust that whispered through the empty expanse. The air was heavy, carrying an earthy scent laced with sulfur and metal, sharp and biting at the back of his throat.
The air sat somewhere between tepid and damp, clinging to his skin and thickening with each breath. A low, simmering heat rose from distant pools of bubbling mud and narrow veins of molten rock winding through fractures in the ground, their dim glow barely piercing the gray haze above.
Alonso could feel the dampness seeping into his clothes, prickling his skin as if the very air was saturated.
He walked forward, his steps sinking just slightly into the uneven ground. Each step kicked up a thin layer of ash that hovered momentarily before settling again. In the distance, faint plumes of steam rose from scattered fissures, curling into the air like ghostly fingers reaching for the sky.
Every few paces, the ground shifted subtly, a barely perceptible tremor that rippled underfoot, as though the land itself were breathing, rising and falling in slow, deliberate waves.
“Well… talk about a welcoming environment,” Houston murmured, sending out EM waves to probe for hidden dangers.
Alonso paused, his gaze tracing the fractured horizon, where strange formations jutted out—sharp, angular rocks, as if thrust violently from the earth and left to weather in silence.
The light was dim, caught in a strange twilight that stretched shadows into thin, spidery lines across the cracked surface. It was hard to tell if there was any source to this muted illumination, only that it suffused the landscape in a dull, colorless glow.
Alonso reached out and ran his hand over a nearby stone, its surface rough, nearly abrasive, leaving a faint residue of grit on his fingers.
Around him, the air carried a low, constant hum, barely above a whisper, vibrating against his skin. It wasn’t sound exactly, but a presence, a soft, magnetic tension that prickled along his arms and spine, filling the space around him like an invisible current.
“That constant field… can you pinpoint its origin?” Alonso asked, his tone serious as he surveyed the surroundings, relying on all his senses.
“It’s… strange. Too uniform and far-reaching to be coming from a creature… hopefully. But it’s distinct from the natural EM of the land, which still mimics Earth’s… if not slightly stronger than what we sensed on the island,” Houston replied. “It’s odd but definitely relevant to whatever’s coming.”
Alonso nodded. These natural waves felt to him as a constant breeze might feel to an ordinary human—surrounding him, fluctuating just enough to remain uniform, like an incredibly vast EM field.
He extended his threads of energy carefully, weaving them through the ambient field, feeling each pulse and shift in energy. Surprisingly, his threads interacted seamlessly, flowing within the field as if the energy was woven specifically for connection. It didn’t resist him, nor did it yield fully; it simply existed, a constant, vast presence.
Houston observed, his mind racing through the possible implications. “It’s incredible,” he murmured, almost to himself. “The stability, the spread… it’s far more structured than any geological field I’d expect to find.”
To Alonso, the field felt alive, like threads of energy coursing through an intricate, hidden design beneath the earth. The consistency reminded him of a heartbeat, a silent, grounding rhythm that tied everything together. He didn’t need Houston’s analysis to sense that this field held significance, something beyond mere background radiation.
“So, any theories?” Alonso asked, his eyes still scanning the terrain.
Houston nodded, his tone sharpening with focus. “This kind of field… it’s as if the land itself is building toward something, like storing energy, maybe priming for a change or reaction. We should assume whatever’s emitting this isn’t passive—if it responds or intensifies, we could be looking at a trigger event.” He paused, calculating each potential. “It’s also plausible this field is a designed feature, a layer of complexity added specifically to make the environment more challenging. But consider this: if we’re able to align with it, use it… we could potentially extend the range of our EM waves, maybe even increase their output intensity.”
Houston’s voice turned thoughtful. “Of course, that works both ways. Any other creature with EM sensitivity will have the same advantage, meaning they’d be able to detect us from a greater distance, track us with finer precision, and, theoretically, deliver a stronger impact if they’re capable of EM attacks.”
Alonso grinned, a heavy, knowing smile. Chance and danger intertwined. Typical of The Tower so far.
“So, we’ll have to adapt,” he said, his tone focused. “If we want to stay hidden, we’ll need to use waves that don’t interfere with this field. But if we tap into it, we’re practically a beacon, lighting up the whole map for every creature out there with sensitivity to it—and from what we’ve seen, that seems to mean all of them.”
“Exactly,” Houston replied. “For now, rely on your other senses, and let’s raise Overdrive to 25%, just in case.”
Overdrive 25%
Alonso nodded, tightening his grip on his sword. He understood these were just hypotheses, and the true trial might play out differently—but everything so far hinted that Houston was close to the truth.
Alonso took a deep breath, feeling the damp, metallic taste of the air fill his lungs, then moved forward, each step deliberate, steady. The ground beneath him shifted slightly with each step, cracking in places and leaving faint imprints of his boots in the ash-like dust.
He walked for what felt like hours, eyes scanning every inch of the barren terrain. Strange formations jutted up from the ground—sharp, jagged rocks that looked as if they'd been wrenched from the depths below and abandoned to erode in the silent wasteland. Patches of dark sand gathered in small basins between these stones, and tiny fissures released thin wisps of steam that rose briefly before dissipating into the haze.
As he moved forward, something caught Alonso’s eye, just at the edge of his vision—a dark, elongated form lying partially hidden behind a jagged rock.
“Is that…?”
He froze, his gaze sliding over it without moving his head, assessing from a distance. The creature blended seamlessly into the fractured earth, its segmented body almost indistinguishable from the terrain. If not for his amplified senses, he might have mistaken it for a stone formation or shadowed crevice.
It lay still, armored plates lining its body in smooth, reflective segments, each faintly catching the dim light. Jagged, spiny protrusions jutted from its back, giving it a defensive edge, like natural barbs made for protection or intimidation.
The creature’s multiple, claw-tipped legs splayed outward, perfectly adapted to the rugged terrain. Thin antennae extended from its head, each tipped with a faint, nearly imperceptible glow.
“So… the first creature. It looks like… a giant insect? No, wait… the ash, the crevices, the smell in the air… and then this thing. I remember, it was arthropods, right? Which means this part of the challenge is…”
“A recreation of ancient Earth,” Houston finished for him. “Though your geological knowledge—and by consequence mine—is stuck at a high school level, and even that’s only hanging on thanks to our enhanced memory. Anyway, yes, an arthropod. You remember—exoskeleton, segmented body, jointed limbs. Based on that textbook image you saw 10 years ago, it’s close to this… if you ignore the vast difference in size. And those antennae… for EM control, perhaps?”
Alonso’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t even sure how to tackle this creature—its defenses, size, and unknown abilities were all a big problem. Should he just go for it? After all, if the challenge was fair, his current capabilities should be enough to handle whatever this first creature was, right? After all, if not him, who else in the Oasis could survive it?
“Keep thinking like that, and you’ll be dead before you know it. What, you defeated Siddharth, did a bit of training, and now you’re invincible?” Houston’s tone was sharp. “Please—you saw your status screen, right? Stay grounded. Yes, face it; we need the orbs. But do it with caution. Study it first, as much as possible. I’ll help you identify its patterns.”
“Come on, Houston, what do you take me for?” Alonso grinned, eyes fixed on the silent creature. “I’m not planning to die just yet. So, all-in to keep it quick in case other creatures join. Anything else?”
“That’s about it. We’ll go full 40% Overdrive. The sharper your senses, the more we can learn and react accordingly,” Houston replied, his tone serious.
After mentally preparing himself, he rushed forward. Each step was calculated, soft against the rocky terrain as he tried to close the gap without triggering a response. He knew it was unlikely, yet it felt better than charging in head-on.
Before he covered half the distance, the creature’s antennae flickered, sending a pulse rippling through the air—subtle yet intense. It froze, as if fully registering him for the first time, then tilted slightly, each segmented plate bristling with new focus.
“The hell… we’re still nearly a kilometer away!”
He felt it—a shift in the air, the creature locking onto him with a forceful awareness. Its antennae pulsed again, sharper this time, and a low vibration radiated outward, shaking the ground beneath his feet.
Then, without warning, it sprang forward, each jointed leg moving with deadly precision as it hurtled toward him in a blur of armor and spiny limbs.
Dust scattered in its wake, the ground cracking under its clawed feet as it surged over rocks, heading straight for him, relentless and fast.
Alonso’s heart pounded, instincts on full alert. He could feel Houston’s focus sharpen in his mind, studying every detail—the angle of its approach, the rhythmic pulses from its antennae, the ground-shaking impact of its steps.
“Alright, then,” Alonso murmured, eyes narrowing as he braced himself.
Overdrive 40%
Bring it on!
