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

Chapter 136 - Pangea (XV)


I keep Overdrive at a controlled level, slightly higher than usual—and for good reason: I've stepped into the Riftflow.

The air here is dense—humid and heavy, like a wet cloth clinging to my skin.

The faint, acrid smell of something faintly metallic lingers, mixing with the earthy scent of decaying vegetation and the tang of salt carried in from the coast.

My boots press into the soft, uneven ground, squelching with each step. The terrain is uneven, jagged rocks and patches of glowing moss breaking the monotony of the cracked soil.

Riftflow feels alive—more alive than it has any right to be.

The faint glimmer of bioluminescence on the ground catches my eye as I move forward.

Everything about this place feels wrong, as if the land itself is waiting, holding its breath. There's no comforting rhythm of wind or rustling leaves here—just the occasional gurgle of bubbling pools scattered across the landscape, emitting a faint, sickly glow.

I step carefully, each movement deliberate, letting my waves pulse out around me, scanning for anything, even if I know they are undetectable.

Then I hear it. The faintest sound—so soft it's almost swallowed by the unnatural silence of this place. A whisper of movement.

My breath stills, muscles tensing as my head snaps toward the source.

So they have come.

Without hesitation, I leap to the side, rolling across the ground and coming up on one knee. My eyes dart upward.

For a moment, I see nothing. Just the distorted, shimmering air above me. Then, they reveal themselves—or maybe it's just my brain piecing together what I can barely see. The Glow-Lurkers.

They hover, translucent and ethereal, their jelly-like bodies glowing faintly with a bioluminescent light that ripples in rhythmic waves, casting an eerie glow on the rocky terrain. Ghostly tentacles dangle beneath them, swaying with a fluid grace that almost hypnotizes. Their full length, including the tentacles, stretches over 30 meters, a massive yet graceful presence.

Their forms ripple and distort as they move, seamlessly blending into the air around them like living mirages. Completely undetectable by my waves. Completely silent, except for that faint, almost imperceptible sound that somehow caught my attention.

They glide toward me, their bioluminescent bodies cloaking the world in a hazy, luminous mist. It distorts everything around them, like heat rippling off a desert road, bending light and perception alike.

I grip my blade tighter, feeling my heart thundering in my chest, but a smile tugs at my lips.

"So I'm fighting ghosts now," I mutter with a dry chuckle, pulling the lever on Overdrive. "Let's see what you really are."

The world sharpens instantly as Overdrive kicks in, flooding my senses. Every detail becomes vivid, crisp.

I can feel the faint tremors in the air as they move, the whisper of vibrations their gliding bodies leave behind.

Their light no longer bends the world as much as I peel back its distortion with heightened focus. Even their movements slow, almost graceful, like watching a dance in slow motion.

Chiara's team never fought these things, so I have no idea what they're capable of. Electric tentacles? Some other EM-based attack? Better not find out the hard way.

I decide to play it safe and reach for my sling.

I load a stone, feeling its weight balance in my palm, and fire. The projectile shoots forward at a speed most wouldn't even perceive—but these things do. They react, their bodies jerking unnaturally fast as if trying to dodge.

Impressive… just not fast enough.

The stone tears through one of them, punching a clean hole through its translucent form. It falters for a moment, the glow flickering as its pulsing light dims. But as I ready another shot, wondering how easy this might be, I see it.

The hole begins to close. Tendrils of glowing, gelatinous flesh knit back together, sealing the wound as if it had never been there.

What the hell?

I lock my gaze on the faint blue shimmer within their translucent forms. Is that their brain? I had aimed there at first, but they reacted too quickly.

Screw it.

I throw my backpack to the ground, the sound barely registering over the pounding in my chest.

My hands move on instinct as I reload the sling, each motion faster than the last. This time, no hesitation. I sprint forward, directly at them, adrenaline and Overdrive pumping through my veins like fire.

The tentacles of the nearest one lash out. They're blindingly fast—even under Overdrive, they're a blur, slicing the air like whips. But I twist my body sharply, the ground skidding beneath my feet.

My right shoulder drops, and I pivot low, narrowly avoiding the glowing appendages as they snap past where my head was a second ago. The air hums with their charge.

I fire my sling mid-movement, the projectile cutting through the luminescent mist, aiming directly for that blueish glow.

It hits.

The rock punches into the jelly-like creature, tearing through the shimmering membrane and embedding itself into the soft, glowing core.

For a split second, the Glow-Lurker convulses violently. Its tentacles flail, the electric charge crackling wildly and scorching the air around me.

The core ruptures, splitting apart in a sickening, wet burst, bioluminescent fluid spraying everywhere.

The creature's body collapses inward, folding like a punctured balloon. Its light fades rapidly, and its translucent form disintegrates into shimmering particles. All that remains is a faint glow on the ground—a small orb, perfect and unassuming.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

I reach for it but stop. My senses scream at me.

The other two are already upon me.

I pivot sharply, Overdrive flooding my system.

Every pulse, every vibration in the air slows down. I can feel the electric hum of their tentacles as they come. I launch myself backward, narrowly avoiding one set of glowing appendages. They snap so close to my face that the charge stings my skin.

I land on uneven ground, crouching low. My sling is ready. I grab another projectile, but there's no time to think.

The second Glow-Lurker rushes in, its tentacles sweeping horizontally like a deadly scythe. I leap over them, my body twisting mid-air, and fire directly downward into its core.

The shot lands.

The creature convulses violently, its glowing core rupturing like the first. Bioluminescent fluid sprays everywhere, some of it hitting my arms and searing like acid. I grunt but don't stop. The creature disintegrates, leaving another pulsing orb behind.

The third one comes immediately, giving no room to breathe. Its tentacles whip toward me in a wide arc, forcing me to duck and roll.

The ground is rough, cutting into my elbows, but I'm already back on my feet, eyes locked on its core. I launch a rock from the sling at full force, but it deflects, the shot skimming its side.

Shit!

I grab another projectile, keeping low. It comes again, its movement erratic now, faster, perhaps berserk now that it is alone.

I sidestep its attack, letting its momentum carry it forward. My hands are already moving, loading the sling. As it passes me, I fire point-blank into the glowing brain.

This time, the shot doesn't miss.

The core explodes in a grotesque, wet pop, sending more bioluminescent fluid spraying in every direction. The Glow-Lurker collapses in on itself, fading into shimmering particles just like the others. Another orb remains.

The area falls silent, save for my ragged breathing.

I'm drenched—partly in sweat, partly in the glowing fluid that, for some reason, didn't vanish with the creatures. The substance clings to my arms, faintly warm and sticky, pulsating with a faint light.

My heart thunders in my chest, the adrenaline still roaring through my veins. I was about to dial back Overdrive, let myself calm down, and collect the orbs—but then I feel it.

A ripple. A faint disturbance in the field around me.

I whip my head to the side, my senses narrowing in on the source. My eyes scan the misty horizon, and there—moving with the same ghostly grace as the others—three more are gliding toward me.

The camp had transformed into a bustling hub of activity over the past couple of days.

What was once a chaotic scattering of makeshift shelters had grown into something almost... livable. Larger tents now stood in neat rows, their fabric reinforced with sturdy stitching and secured tightly against the occasional gusts of wind. Between them, wooden tables and benches were scattered, most handmade, where Climbers gathered to eat or share stories of their hunts.

A central fire pit burned brightly, the scent of roasted meat wafting through the air. Around it, groups sat laughing or debating strategies, their faces illuminated by the warm glow.

On the camp's northern edge stood the workshop, an ever-busy space where a few worked tirelessly. Scraps of metal, hardened wood, and animal parts were meticulously crafted into weapons, traps, and gear. The rhythmic clanging of tools echoed softly, adding to the lively ambiance of the camp.

Despite the improvements, a sense of urgency always lingered. Yet, it felt almost... normal, a strange semblance of community in the midst of chaos.

Ayu leaned casually against a post near the fire pit, the mask Lukas had crafted for her spinning deftly in her hand.

Her sharp eyes scanned the camp, noting the usual faces, the usual chatter. Someone laughed loudly by the fire, and she couldn't help but smirk. It was good to hear people unwind, especially while taking a rest from a successful hunt.

Her gaze shifted, catching movement on the horizon. A familiar figure approached from the distance. Chiara.

Ayu straightened slightly, expecting to see the confident, no-nonsense stride Chiara always carried. But… something was off.

Chiara's shoulders slumped just a little, her steps slower than usual, her head tilted downward. Not a big deal to most, but to Ayu, who watched everything with sharp eyes and an even sharper gut feeling, it was a red flag.

"Hmm," she muttered, narrowing her eyes. "What happened?"

She stayed still, watching Chiara as she moved closer. Just as Ayu was about to call out something snarky, she noticed the shift. Chiara seemed to realize the Climbers were starting to notice her, and—like a switch—she plastered on a smile. Her steps quickened, her posture straightened. Just like that, the confident leader was back.

But Ayu wasn't fooled. Not even for a second.

"Yeah, nice try," Ayu murmured under her breath with a grin, spinning the mask one last time before putting it on. "Let's see what you're hiding, boss."

Ayu adjusted the mask as she sauntered toward Chiara, moving quietly between the tents. Her grin widened as she got closer, her steps light and playful. She slipped behind Chiara unnoticed and leaned in.

"Boo!" Ayu said, her voice muffled slightly by the mask.

Chiara turned, shaking her head with a faint smile. "Nice mask. Costum designed, I assume?"

Ayu laughed and nodded, pulling it off with a quick flourish. "You bet. Didn't like the standard look. Too boring, you know?"

Chiara raised an eyebrow. "Boring? You mean functional."

Ayu waved her off, holding up her own mask for inspection. "Lukas and I spiced mine up a little. See this?" She pointed at the intricate patterns carved along the sides. "Inspired by home. The details mimic traditional Thai art, and we added a small crest on the top, shaped like a Muay Thai headband. Pretty sweet, huh?"

Chiara chuckled, shaking her head. "You and Lukas are a dangerous combination."

"Better than your basic design," Ayu quipped, holding up the mask Chiara was wearing for comparison. "Simple lines, no flair, no presence."

Chiara smirked but didn't reply, her hand tightening slightly around something she was holding.

Ayu's sharp eyes caught it immediately. "Oh, what's this?" She pointed at the other mask Chiara had tucked under her arm. "A new one? Don't tell me you're starting a collection."

Chiara hesitated, her smile faltering for a split second. "Ah, yes… Lukas just finished this one. It's for…" She trailed off briefly, her eyes flicking to the side. "For someone who might join the next hunting group. Just a backup, really."

Ayu tilted her head, frowning slightly. "Huh. Thought everyone already had one."

"Do they?" Chiara said quickly. "Well, this one's just in case. You know, accidents happen."

Ayu's eyes narrowed slightly, her carefree smile fading into something more thoughtful. "Mmm. Right. A backup." She crossed her arms, her tone sharper now. "That's funny. You're not one to carry spares like that. And where's your backpack?"

Chiara chuckled, but the sound was forced. She turned slightly, feigning nonchalance. "I left it here at camp. I just went out for some fresh air."

"So, you went for fresh air carrying two masks and came back with a downcast expression?" Ayu pressed, her brow furrowed. "Let me guess—either you botched one of your experiments, or…" she paused, tilting her head, "he rejected your offer."

Chiara stiffened, her eyes widening as if caught off guard. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Before she could respond, Ayu waved her hand dismissively and continued.

"Let him be, Chiara. He likes being alone. That's his path, what he chose. Don't try to enforce your way of thinking on others—it won't work, and it's not fair. We're strong as we are. Focus on what we have now, not on what you think we're missing. That's what matters."

Chiara stood frozen, her mouth slightly open, her eyes locked on Ayu in disbelief. The words struck like a hammer to her chest, shattering the fragile defenses she'd built around her guilt. They lingered in the air, echoing louder with each passing second, crushing her more than she'd thought possible—especially coming from Ayu.

For a moment, Ayu said nothing, her expression steady, almost serene. Then, just like that, the smile returned to her face, carefree and mischievous as ever. "By the way," she added, "try not to fall too far behind. I hunted twelve crabs on my last outing—just seventeen more to hit the limit."

She laughed, spinning her mask in her hand as she turned and walked off, her usual buoyant stride returning.

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