Kyle’s eyes went wide as he heard C.H.A.D.D.’s words.  Without a moment of hesitation, he released a blast of Repel to create space.  The drone had already calculated a path with the highest probability of safety, but it would be a stretch to get out of the way before the floating city crashed into the ground below.  The shockwave alone would be immense.

“Follow me!” Kyle bellowed, releasing another Repel to clear more of the way for their escape.

“What’s happening?” Tillienne asked, following Kyle’s lead.

“We’ve got to get clear, this whole structure could fall at any minute,” he shouted back, clearing out another batch of fungal soldiers.

The groaning above them intensified, and Kyle hazarded a glance backward to see the lift buckle and snap as the edge of the settlement began to tilt lower.

“Why isn’t anybody sending messages?” Skippy asked, tapping his nav bracelet as he ran ahead.  “A superstructure falling from the sky is certainly information worth spreading around!”

The fungal soldiers kept pouring toward the collapsing settlement, heedless of the danger it posed.  Once they were clear of the largest force, they continued unimpeded.  These things really are mindless, Kyle thought, watching as more continued to stream towards their inevitable demise.  To lack even a basic survival instinct was just… wrong.  Every aspect of his path rejected it, and the Core of the Parasitic Devourer seemed almost disgusted by the notion.

[YOU NEED TO MOVE FASTER, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Boosting skills, now!” Kyle called, activating Ignition.  Tillienne and Skippy followed suit, even though he could tell it pained them to do so.  He swore, checking his nav bracelet.  For some reason, communications weren’t getting through; a prospect that Kyle found unnerving.  Then and again, the settlement’s propulsion arrays weren’t failing, etither.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you get a sense if something changed with the spores in the air?  Is that what’s causing this?”

The drone was silent for a moment, punctuated by another loud groan of metal warping and straining above them.

[IT IS FAINT, BUT SOMETHING SEEMS TO BE AMPLIFYING THE SPORES’ EFFECTS, DR. MAYHEW.  IT IS LIKELY A TEMPORARY MEASURE, AS THE MANA USING THEM AS A MEDIUM IS DESTROYING THE SPORES IN SHORT ORDER.]

“Will it stop in time for the settlement to right itself?” Kyle asked.

[UNLIKELY, DR. MAYHEW.]

A sickening thought crossed Kyle’s mind, and he had to ask.  “Are these spores going to prevent the teleporters from working?”

[I DO NOT BELIEVE SO, DR. MAYHEW, THOUGH IT IS POSSIBLE THAT IT COULD CREATE INTERFERENCE.]

Kyle shivered.  There was nothing they could do about it, but if the citizens weren’t able to escape, they wouldn’t survive the collapse.  By now, the settlement was getting a severe tilt, with the northmost side nearest to the fungal colony dropping well below the other side.  Plates of metal were snapping and breaking off the structure above, crushing groups of hapless fungal soldiers too slow or thoughtless to get out of the way.

[I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT WE WILL BE ABLE TO GET MUCH FARTHER, DR. MAYHEW.  ACTIVATE YOUR BARRIER NOW!]

Kyle turned to see the massive structure’s propulsion array sputter, then give out as the massive settlement fell.  Grabbing Tillienne and Skippy, Kyle pulled them close as he activated Storm Shelter.  A web of vines wove around them, reinforcing the barrier further.  They watched with awe as the superstructure made contact.  The ground shook, and Kyle felt a spark in his chest as Heart of Creation activated once more, empowering Storm Shelter in the moment before a shockwave from the impact smashed into the skill, nearly destabilizing it.

For a moment, there was only stillness.  Then, with a loud creaking sound, Kyle watched one of the large metal plates, twisted from the collapse, begin to fall directly toward them.  He felt Skippy tense up as Tillienne’s grip on his arm tightened, her four hands like vices.  He pushed what mana he could into Storm Shelter, and prayed it would hold.  The massive wall of steel struck, and the world went dark.

[DR. MAYHEW, YOU NEED TO GET UP!]

His eyes blinked, vision bleary as he sat up, the world slowly coming back into focus.  His head hurt, and his body felt like he’d been hit by a bus.  With a start, he realized that the excess vital energy held in his cells, courtesy of Tenacious Vigor, had been largely depleted.  Getting his bearings, he looked around to see a small pocket of clear space surrounded by twisted metal and debris.

Tillienne and Skippy were nearby, each bound in a cocoon of vines and unconscious.  “Did you pull us to safety?” Kyle asked.

[I DID MY BEST, DR. MAYHEW.  YOUR BARRIER DIVERTED THE WORST OF THE FALL, BUT WHEN IT BROKE THE SMALLER PIECES CAME DOWN.  ONE STRUCK MS. TILLIENNE, AND MR. SKIEREPALLIX USED A SKILL TO KNOCK AWAY MUCH OF THE DEBRIS.  HE COLLAPSED SHORTLY AFTERWARD.]

Kyle nodded, considering their options.  His own mana reserves were low, with his natural mana regeneration hampered by Tenacious Vigor’s need to replenish and Iron Will.  He reached out a hand to Tillienne, giving her a quick infusion with Healing Impetus.  C.H.A.D.D.’s quick scan showed that she’d sustained a nasty blow to the head, and while it wasn’t fatal Kyle didn’t want to take any chances by leaving it untreated.

After considering his options, he decided to settle in and meditate.  His mana network was feeling the strain from his expenditures, and he wanted to get a better sense of where he stood.  With a breath, closed his eyes and focused.

KYLE MAYHEW.  ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (PARASITE), SURVIVALIST.  LEVEL 111 (D)

CORE OF THE PARASITIC DEVOURER 97%

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY – 14/? – ENHANCED CARAPACE (FERRIC AUGMENTATION), AURIC PERCEPTION (SYNAPTIC BARBS), EXOSKELETAL STRENGTH (MUSCULAR COMPRESSION), CEASELESS VITALITY (TENACIOUS VIGOR), INSTINCTIVE INTELLIGENCE (PACK LEADER’S INSTINCT), COVERT DEXTERITY (REFLEXIVE EVASION), UNBREAKABLE WILL (HEART OF CREATION)

VITALITY: 1403

ENDURANCE: 1844

STRENGTH: 547

DEXTERITY: 1152

WILLPOWER: 2130

INTELLIGENCE: 2091

PERCEPTION: 1466

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 72

With a quick nudge, he allocated his Free Attributes into Endurance and Willpower.  14 levels to go, he thought, taking time to review his status.  The first thing he noticed was that his Core of the Parasitic Devourer hadn’t seen a single percentage increase in terms of mana absorption.  Given how liberally he’d used the skill against Reynolds, he found that odd.

Yet, when he thought about the fungal creatures, he got the same impression of wrongness from his core, a rejection and disgust at the thought of consuming the odd fungal creatures.  It’s a picky eater, Kyle realized, watching the slowly pulsing crimson sigils as they pulsed and swirled around his center.

By now, crimson nodes representing his Adaptive Anatomy were present along each of the seven swirling arms representing his cultivation, and even the blazing symbol of his path as a Survivalist had taken on some hints of the crimson energy.  As he observed it, traces of silver-white light danced over the surface, reminiscent of the skills empowered by Heart of Creation.

Turning his attention to the indistinct spheres that represented his skills, he looked specifically at Storm Shelter and Parasitic Resonance.  Both skills sparked with silver-white light, small motes of the energy dissipating back into his center from time to time.  Instinctively, he understood that the skills would be unavailable to him until all of the energy had been reabsorbed.

Parasitic Resonance seemed to be having the hardest time recovering, with Storm Shelter removing motes of energy at nearly twice the rate.  He felt discomfort from the Core of the Parasitic Devourer, mixed with a tinge of pain.  Parasitic Resonance was the skill most closely linked to his core, the skill that most effectively allowed it to grow and adapt.  Moreover, Heart of Creation was a part of his Adaptive Anatomy, only unlocked by absorbing energy from the World Tree Seed.

It's too much for the core to handle right now, Kyle realized, watching the silver-white light shimmer around his skill sphere.  As it was now, the Core of the Parasitic Devourer just didn’t have the strength to fully leverage Heart of Creation.  What about in C Grade?  B Grade?  The thoughts were interesting, and Kyle found his heart beating faster when he considered the possibilities.  What if he could use Heart of Creation freely?  Empower each skill, every time he used it?

Stopping himself before he got too far into his own mind, he checked on the flow of his mana.  His system was still strained, particularly after his big push with the Heart of Creation empowered Storm Shelter.  Still, it wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been after his encounter with Zierlan.  Even without Parasitic Resonance and Storm Shelter currently available, he felt confident handling any of the fungal creatures that survived the collapse of the settlement.

He exited meditation, standing and stretching as he looked around their relative pocket of safety.  He remembered a collapsed hospital, digging through rubble and remains to find supplies what felt like a lifetime ago.  “Can you get a path for us to get out, C.H.A.D.D.?”

A map of the rubble appeared as C.H.A.D.D. highlighted specific pieces to move, each of them numbered.  [ALREADY DONE, DR. MAYHEW.]

Grabbing the first piece of metal, Kyle shifted it according to C.H.A.D.D.’s instructions.  Between his Exoskeletal Strength and Muscular Compression, even the larger pieces were moved with relative ease.  There were a few times where he needed to activate Ignition to shift some of the heaviest pieces of debris, but C.H.A.D.D.’s pathing generally accounted for Kyle’s Strength accurately.

Finally, the path was cleared.  Kyle felt that Storm Shelter was on the cusp of being usable again, and Parasitic Resonance was slowly approaching the same point.  Grabbing Skippy and Tillienne, he wormed his way out of the tunnel he’d opened, getting the first look at the aftermath of the crash.

The far end of the settlement was still being held aloft by the remaining propulsion arrays, with the ruined portion having been smashed into the ground.  It almost looked like a sword had been thrust into the ground, with the hilt suspended in midair.  As he turned to retrieve Skippy and Tillienne, his nav bracelet began to chime with notifications, one after another.  Pulling up the messages, he got a good look at the aftermath.

The first batch of messages consisted of basic retreat logistics and battle planning; the writers clearly not realizing that there was a communication freeze.  The next batch addressed the communications issue directly; each message attempting to troubleshoot the problem.  The final batch consisted of instructions, the last of which was being sent on repeat.

Corthian forces,

The settlements nearest the battlefield have fallen.  Kertan Six is to be fully evacuated.  All personnel and civilians on-world have evacuated, and teleporters have been calibrated to transition to holding bays on larger barges.  The teleporters left unmanned will be locked, and tied to a frequency on your nav bracelet.  Pressing your nav bracelet to the interface will activate the emergency teleportation.

Shuttle rescue is not an option.  Teleporters will remain operational in this limited capacity for two days, after which they will be fully disabled.

You will receive further communication after that point.

-Angela Corthus

Several of the teleporter locations were projected out, and Kyle saw that the nearest functional devices were atop the still-floating portion of the destroyed settlement.  Rushing back into the rubble with a renewed urgency, Kyle got Skippy and Tillienne out, and began to make his way toward the ruins.  Skippy was the first to stir, the overexertion from his skill usage finally having worn off enough for him to regain consciousness.

After reading the messages on his nav bracelet, he looked up at Kyle.  “This doesn’t sound good, does it?”

Kyle shook his head.  “Not at all.  Whatever happened to Malcolm, it’s a full defeat.  What do you think Angela will do from here?”

Skippy shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I don’t think any of us imagined that Malcolm would die fighting a fledgling C Grade.  Maybe he was weaker than we thought.”

They continued their climb, the difficult terrain and steep incline hardly proving a challenge for them as C.H.A.D.D. warned of damaged areas.  The habitations atop the settlement were simple, typically only one or two stories tall.  Climbing across ruined streets, past abandoned homes, Kyle once again remembered his escape from Newton.  So many lives ruined and displaced, and it’s no more than collateral damage, he thought.

Finally, as they ascended toward the building where the teleporters were, C.H.A.D.D. flashed a warning.

[DR. MAYHEW, THERE IS SOMEBODY INSIDE.]

“Can you tell if it’s a civilian?  Somebody from Corthian Mining?”

[I AM UNSURE, DR. MAYHEW.  THEY JUST APPEARED TO MY SCANNERS, AND THEY DO NOT APPEAR TO HAVE ANY MANA SIGNATURE AT ALL.]

“A random unawakened left behind?” Kyle wondered aloud.  “That doesn’t sound right to me.”

“If it’s a trap, we could be in trouble,” Skippy mused, defying Kyle’s typical expectations of the skrell.  Unfortunately, it was an assessment he agreed with.

Tillienne was beginning to stir, and Kyle made a snap judgment, carefully handing the fae woman to Skippy.  “If we get in, and it does turn into a fight, take her and teleport out.  I’ll either be able to handle it, or I’ll run away and get to another unit.  If it isn’t a trap of some sort, then we all just leave.”

To his surprise, Skippy nodded.  “That… is probably wise.  We’ll get together with Duroc and spar again after we’ve gotten home.”

“I would like that,” Kyle agreed, as they closed the remaining distance to the teleporter buildings.

Walking inside, they saw two massive teleportation platforms, each with their own interface panel.  Standing in front of one was a shirtless man in ill-fitting trousers, trying, and failing, to work with the interface.  He was well-muscled, with a lean athletic build that spoke of hard training.  His long hair had been dark once, though streaks of gray were prominent throughout.  It was pulled back into a loose tail, making it partway down his back.

But Kyle’s eyes were fixed on the two blades he wore on his hip; a long, thin sword in a scabbard, as well as a thick, heavy-looking dagger.  They were entirely out of place on an unawakened, and a sick feeling rose in Kyle’s chest as the man turned to look at them upon hearing their footfalls.

A gruff voice growled out under a thick handlebar moustache.  “Well, I’ll be damned.  You may look different, but I still recognize that face.  If it isn’t Kyle Mayhew.  This really is my lucky day.”