I CLIMB (A Progression/Evolution Sci-Fi Novel)

Chapter 123 - Pangea (II)


As the creature barreled toward him, each of its many legs struck the ground like hammer blows, sending tremors through the rocky terrain.

The air vibrated with the force of its approach, and Alonso could feel the power radiating off it—a heavy, unyielding presence that only grew stronger as it closed the distance.

At over 20 meters in length, its metallic carapace gleamed in the dim light, segmented plates locking together like armor forged for war. The sheer momentum it carried at that speed meant that meeting it head-on would leave him as little more than pulp of meat.

He moved to the side, dodging just as one of its spiny legs struck down where he'd been standing, shattering the ground into shards of rock. Alonso slipped past its initial strike, but as the creature turned, he felt an odd shift—a flicker in his senses. His Overdrive, set at 40%, faltered, the field around him warping and disrupting his focus.

What—?!

He barely managed to react, his body instinctively twisting as the creature's limb swung toward him. The impact glanced off his side, but it was enough to fling him backward.

He flew through the air, the world tilting as he tumbled, rolling hard across the jagged ground before skidding to a stop, breath knocked out of him.

Alonso coughed, tasting grit and dust as he forced himself back up. His vision blurred, his Overdrive struggling to re-engage.

"Houston, what the heck?!"

"It's sending a jamming signal with its antennae, disrupting all EM fields in the vicinity," Houston's voice was alarmed. "You'll have to protect your mind from it. I'll assist."

Alonso glanced at the creature. Its turning rate was sluggish, which meant he could use that to his advantage. Wiping blood from his lips with the back of his hand, he grinned.

Not too shabby, are you?

Overdrive 40%

He channeled his threads, weaving them into a shield around his mind, feeling Houston's own field stacking onto his, forming a barrier against the interference. But… would it hold?

Without Overdrive, his chances weren't good. He'd have to exploit its slow turn rate, grinding it down piece by piece, staying just out of reach of those deadly limbs.

He took a deep breath—and coughed, hard. Can't even breathe in this hell.

The air was thick and oily, laced with a sharp, metallic tang that burned his lungs. Heavy with sulfur and other harsh minerals, it clung to his throat, each breath like dragging in fumes. The raw, toxic atmosphere felt ancient, hostile.

Hopefully, my enhanced body can handle it.

Alonso steadied himself, eyes locked on the creature as it bore down on him. Another jamming pulse hit, fierce and disorienting, but the barrier he and Houston had crafted held strong. That was all he needed.

He tightened his grip on his sword, scanning for any weak points in the creature's armor. Its segmented plates overlapped like scales, leaving small gaps near its joints, areas less fortified by the dense, metallic shell. With the creature's slow turn rate, he just might be able to slip in close and strike.

Alonso moved, circling left, testing its reaction.

The creature adjusted, antennae flickering as it sensed his every shift. A pulse hit again, more insistent this time, disrupting any chance he had of sending out threads to probe it. It had adapted, layering pulses repeatedly, creating an interference field that rippled around it like a protective barrier, neutralizing any threats.

"Interesting," Houston murmured, an odd, almost sinister note in his voice. "Imagine if Chiara faced off against this thing. I'd pay to see that."

Alonso dashed forward, weaving under another strike that shattered the ground beside him, debris flying in all directions.

Staying low, he aimed for the joints, slicing at the exposed area where the armor didn't quite cover. Sparks flew as his blade connected, but the creature retaliated instantly, one of its limbs sweeping toward him.

Alonso ducked, pivoting just as the creature's limb crashed down beside him, splintering the ground in an explosion of dust and rock. He sprang up, shifting to the creature's side, his blade flashing as he struck its joint again, drawing sparks and a jagged crack.

A quick roll, and he was out of range, just in time to dodge a second strike that shattered the ground where he'd been standing. He darted back in, light on his feet, slashing upward along its exposed underside, metal clanging as his sword met its armor.

The creature lunged, antennae pulsing, legs scraping forward with a deadly swipe. Alonso sidestepped, using its momentum against it, pressing in closer as he slipped beneath its bristling limbs. His movements were fluid, instinctive—every twist, every step in perfect sync.

He spun, shifting his weight, then leapt, using a passing limb as a springboard. In midair, he twisted, blade slicing down, hitting the softer spot just beneath its armor. Another crack, another spurt of sparks.

The creature roared, antennae pulsing in rapid succession, but Alonso was already moving, landing lightly and darting back as it staggered forward, off-balance.

He pressed forward, his movements relentless, slipping around its defenses with ease. His blade struck again and again, each slice precisely aimed, chipping away at armor and leaving deep gouges in the metal plating.

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A low, sweeping strike came at him, and he leapt over it, spinning midair, eyes sharp and calculating. He landed on the creature's back, using the spines for balance, then drove his blade down into the gap between segments before flipping off to avoid its thrashing retaliation.

Back on his feet, Alonso smirked, heart pounding. The creature was slowing, each movement more sluggish, more desperate. But he didn't let up—he circled, dodging, striking, always one step ahead.

The creature was strong, big, heavily armored, and practically immune to any wave attacks. But… it was slow. Fighting it at 40% Overdrive felt almost excessive, like overkill against the poor arthropod.

He spun his sword effortlessly, the blade tracing arcs around his arm as he steadied himself, waiting.

The creature lunged, and he moved in sync, skimming his blade along its metallic limb until he struck a point he'd targeted twice before, cracking through the armor by harnessing both his momentum and the creature's weight.

The beast retaliated wildly, limbs thrashing in every direction. To Alonso, each swing was slow motion, every strike predictable.

He sidestepped with ease, sliding around a massive swipe and reaching the same weak spot. With a quick thrust, he drove his sword deep, then pulled it free, watching a dark, murky green blood seep out and coat the blade.

Not vital, he thought. Even if he wanted to end it faster, guessing at its anatomy was risky. The head seemed like a good target, but it was too heavily armored—and too risky.

He sighed, loosening his shoulders. Looks like it's going to be a long round.

"Long round? Why haven't you sliced its antennae yet?" Houston's voice practically dripped with exasperation.

"Oh… right. My bad," Alonso scratched the back of his head, grinning. Better late than never.

With a smirk, Alonso darted forward, honing in on the creature's antennae.

In a fluid leap, he landed on its armored side, balancing with ease as he ran up the segmented plates, slicing through one flickering antenna in a swift, clean stroke. Sparks flew, green blood spattering his arm.

Another step—another slice. The second antenna dropped, severed.

The creature staggered, limbs jerking as it lost all direction, swaying under his feet.

Alonso seized his chance. Bracing himself, he gripped his sword and brought the pommel down with brutal precision, smashing it against the creature's hardened shell surrounding its head.

The impact reverberated through his arm, the thick armor cracking, spidering out from the force.

Again. And again. He struck, each blunt blow widening the fractures, the carapace splintering under his relentless strikes.

Finally, when a large enough gap split open, he flipped the sword and drove the blade in, piercing deep into the skull.

He twisted, grinding the blade through the soft tissue, feeling the thick resistance give way as he churned the weapon, forcing it deeper. The creature's movements slowed, twitching into erratic spasms.

It kicked, legs thrashing wildly, body convulsing in stubborn, primal reflex. Alonso held on, bracing himself as it jerked, twisting beneath him. Seconds stretched as it fought, each tremor shuddering through his body.

Then finally, with a last, strained heave, the creature collapsed, falling limp with a heavy thud that sent a cloud of dust into the air.

Alonso exhaled, green blood streaked across his face and arms. "Tough bastard," he muttered, sliding off as the dust settled.

He pushed his arm nearly elbow-deep into the creature's brain until he felt what he was looking for.

Stage 1 - 3.125%

Just 0.030%? That felt low. Oh well.

He hopped down from the dead creature's carapace.

Overdrive 10%

His body relaxed as his senses calmed, almost settling into a state of ease.

"That was… not good," Houston remarked. "Why the hell didn't you take out the antennae from the start?"

Alonso frowned. He couldn't even answer; now that he thought about it, the choice seemed obvious, so… why hadn't he done it?

"I held back, watching you fight, didn't want to intervene much," Houston continued, his tone balancing between judgment and confusion. "But dragging out a battle you could've ended in seconds, well… why?"

"I didn't think about it," Alonso replied simply.

"Back then, you'd have optimized every trajectory to finish a creature in the least amount of moves, targeting weak points with Simulation," Houston said. "But now? Sure, you're faster and stronger, but it's almost like… you're more stupid. You're fighting for the thrill of it, not the effectiveness. And that—" Houston paused for emphasis, "—that has to change."

The thrill. Yes, he liked the thrill of a battle. Did he want to finish quickly… perhaps not?

While a delayed battle would've been nice if intentional, the fact that it happened subconsciously—that was the real issue.

"It's fine, no need to stress too much over it," Houston said. "But try to adjust your mindset as we go. I think this is an issue with Overdrive we hadn't considered. And coupled with the fact that you recently changed your entire fighting style, things like this are bound to happen. Just, try to break the habit. Avoid overthinking, but, please, don't avoid thinking altogether."

Alonso nodded. Yet, his mind felt muddled, foggy. He wasn't his usual self.

Was it… the environment?

"Yes, that could be a factor," Houston replied. "The atmosphere here is clearly toxic, lethal to a normal human. I'm not certain how much it's affecting you, but… it would be wise to keep moving. Lingering near these fumes doesn't look promising."

Alonso's face darkened.

"Put Overdrive on negative," Alonso said suddenly. "I'm breathing too much."

His vision was slightly blurry, but he shook it off.

Overdrive -15%

His breathing slowed. And then… he was off, running at a comfortable, steady pace that would've made a world-class sprinter question their life choices.

He needed to get out of here… fast.

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