Chapter 310 - Back Below

Alonso and Ayu moved quickly through the underground maze. The stench thickened the deeper they went—a sharp mix of rot, acid, and iron that clung to the air.

“Are they avoiding us?” Ayu asked.

Alonso scanned the surroundings, eyes and waves flicking between walls and tunnels for a path that led further down. “They lost over a dozen Commanders. Maybe they’ve retreated.”

“But if they were retreating, wouldn’t it be upwards? The others haven’t seen them.”

“Arjun said this place is a network of High Nests. There might be exits spanning kilometers away from the one we took.”

“Bo—ring,” Ayu muttered, stepping across a patch of solid ground, carefully avoiding the murky floor and scattered remnants of Xok’al eggs and tissue.

“It is, isn’t it,” Alonso mused. “Well, the lab should be interesting.”

“For you nerds, sure. Not for me.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, eyes locking onto a narrow crevice ahead.

They kept moving, weaving deeper through the underground structure. The silence stretched around them—no movement, no sound.

Minutes passed, until—

“This is the level,” Alonso said as he dropped down and landed with a soft thud.

Ayu followed a moment later, dropping through the hole above. She glanced around, sniffed. “Empty, too.”

Alonso gave it a moment, then started moving toward the coordinates.

Along the way, they found hundreds of Xok’al eggs—some shattered, others still faintly pulsing. They observed them with curiosity but moved on.

After weaving through narrow corridors that felt like the vessels of a living giant, Alonso finally stopped.

His eyes locked on it.

But it wasn’t the fact it was there that surprised him—it was the fact… there was no door. The path to the lab was simply… open.

“Lukas, we are here. We’re going to enter.”

“..orry. Sig…nal…un…ear…”

Alonso narrowed his brow. The interference this deep underground was too much for proper communication. They will—

“Alonso, this is Chiara. I’ll relay Lukas’ words: ‘We’re not receiving you well. I’m sending you a reduced-format protocol with predefined command packets to maintain communication.’”

Alonso blinked as he received the pulse containing the data.

Chiara’s signal was that clear, even this far down?

He looked at Ayu and nodded, and they walked inside.

That’s when he saw it.

The thick lab door lay anchored against the far wall, its edges completely shattered. Several large dents surrounded it, as if something had punched it over and over until it tore loose from the frame—which was probably exactly what had happened.

He remembered the heavy vibrations he’d felt back then, just before he made a run for it.

Now the real question was: did a Commander-level Xok’al have the strength to do that?

Or… was it something even stronger?

He and Ayu moved through the metallic corridors. Decomposed Xok’al corpses littered the floor—some reduced to bones.

Not the best thing he’d ever put in his mouth, but… it hadn’t tasted that bad when he was starving.

He stepped over the remains, eyeing the markings along the walls. Some matched the old impact signs from before.

But others… others were new. Some from the door. And some… from something else.

Ayu looked at him, but they both remained silent.

Alonso scanned the different rooms, noticing all the doors had been cracked open.

He found the incomplete Xayen mech-like armor still mounted on the wall, along with the crafting station and the defense automaton he had defeated back then.

After checking each room, they made their way to the sewage control chamber at the far end.

Nothing unusual here either.

He was about to send an ‘all-clear’ signal to Lukas and Chiara, but paused.

The dense metal surroundings would block transmission. Better to step out of the bunker-like lab first and get a stronger signal.

But just as he stepped back into the corridor… he froze.

Alonso narrowed his eyes as he observed the creature before him.

Its form matched almost perfectly what he had seen in the visuals—but seeing the nearly eight-foot tall Xok’al in person was something else entirely.

The creature’s head nearly scraped the top of the corridor, its hunched posture belying the sheer mass packed into every motionless second.

Five tails arched behind it, each one ending in a cannon-like structure that faintly hissed with pressure.

Its torso was thick with layers of dense chitin and muscle, and it possessed four upper limbs—two thicker arms ending in brutal scimitar-like blades, and two thinner ones below, each forearm shaped into a sleek, double-edged blade.

So we finally meet in person… Warden.

Beside him, Ayu remained silent. But Alonso could feel it—the heat rising off her skin, the change in posture, the thick, razor-sharp intent radiating from her like pressure before a storm.

Her body had already shifted into that focused combat state he had seen in her so many times—tense, coiled, ready to go all out.

The moment lingered.

An eerie stillness stretched the corridor as Alonso met the creature’s gaze. There was something behind its eyes. Light—not just glowing, but observing. Judging. Thinking. It wasn’t just reflex or programming. It felt… aware.

Seconds passed in total silence.

Until—

Ayu moved.

She burst forward, her body blurring from the sheer force of the heat spike, entering full Fury in less than a breath.

Her bone kukris were already high as she closed in on the Warden—but the creature met her halfway.

One lower blade snapped up, catching her right kukri mid-swing with a screech of bone on metal.

The second blade intercepted her left just before it curved into the Warden’s side.

The third arm came from below in a rising arc, aiming to split her in half.

She was already gone.

Her hips twisted, back arching just enough to let the scimitar graze air where her stomach had been. She pivoted off one foot, both blades redirecting without pause—one slashing high, one spinning for the creature’s flank.

But it had four arms.

The fourth came down like an axe, halting her angle. Then another thrust. Another swing. Fast. Precise. Relentless.

Each blade came with a slight delay from the last—staggered, overlapping like a chain of perfect, killer rhythms. A tempo designed to break even the best defence.

Ayu danced through it. Not blocking—never blocking. She twisted, leaned, ducked, swayed, her body reacting before the blades even moved. Her limbs flowed faster than thought, guided by something deeper.

But even she was being forced back.

Step by step. Cut by near-cut.

The Warden advanced.

Its massive frame pressed forward, each movement slamming down like a declaration of dominance. The corridor vibrated with every stomp. Every swing of its upper scimitars cut small gashes into the walls.

Then the tails rose.

All five at once—spread and angled like a fan behind it.

A faint whir.

Then—

They fired.

Ayu vaulted off the wall, flipping above the incoming line of fire.

Behind her, Alonso didn’t flinch.

The first shot tore through the air beside him—a blur of force and metal—but he shifted half a step, just enough for it to miss.

The second crashed into the wall behind, sending a shockwave of sound down the corridor.

He didn’t look.

The third came fast.

This one, he raised his blade.

Not out of need—but curiosity.

The flat met the projectile clean. It shrieked against steel, the impact driving through his wrist and up his arm, rattling his shoulder with raw kinetic weight.

He absorbed it. Felt the bite of momentum. Calculated.

Then let it slide away.

The fourth passed inches from his leg, close enough to ripple his coat.

The fifth struck the ceiling above, scattering dust and debris.

The combat tempo halted—just for an instant—as Alonso processed every movement the Xok’al had made since the start. The force and speed behind its strikes. The weight behind each projectile.

He sent a pulse to Ayu.

She moved at once, feet denting the thick metal wall as she launched off it. Her small frame twisted through the corridor with fluid precision, using all four planes—floor, walls, ceiling—to her advantage. Her thighs coiled and released like springs, building momentum with every bound.

Alonso watched as they fought.

The Xok’al had chosen this moment to engage—but why?

Its massive frame wasn’t exactly suited to a corridor this narrow—well, narrow for its size. Unless…

His brow furrowed.

Could it be—to block communication with the outside?

A chill crept into his gut.

Was this a trap?

If so, it meant they understood signal interference. It meant they had used the lab as bait—its thick walls perfect to cut off outside comms, trap them in, and strike before backup could even register the silence.

Perhaps… he was still underestimating them.

Ayu kept clashing with the Xok’al again and again. The creature’s offense and defence was solid—its four bladed limbs moved with precision and speed. It used its waves to accelerate its strikes mid-motion or change direction abruptly, trying to catch her off guard. But—

That was Ayu it was fighting.

In her dual state of Overdrive and Fury, Ayu’s reflexes were unmatched. Coupled with her Awakening, it meant landing a hit on her would require a massive gap in combat specs. And while there was a difference… it wasn’t nearly enough to overcome her near pre-cognition in that state.

The only problem was… she couldn’t hold it long.

A dozen seconds at most—any longer, and it would start to break her down, physically and mentally.

And yet—it was too early for him to make a move. He needed more data.

The fight dragged on.

A full second passed—blades rang, limbs blurred, steam hissed from Ayu’s skin.

She struck high, feinted low, and pivoted from the ceiling, dragging one kukri in a tight arc toward the Warden’s eye.

Blocked.

Sparks showered from the clash as metal screamed against bone.

The Warden answered with a brutal side-swipe from a scimitar limb—Ayu had already ducked under, sweat flying from her brow, her toes catching on a half-torn dent on the wall. She used it—flipped, redirected, her other blade stabbing toward the creature’s exposed inner joint.

But the thinner forearm parried her again, barely shifting.

Then it lunged.

All four blades came at once.

Ayu grunted, kicked off the wall, twisting through the gap with her knees tight to her chest. Her sweat sizzled mid-air, evaporating from her skin.

The corridor rang with strikes. Her kukris sparked and clanged. One blade slipped—just a hair late—and scraped along her ribs. She hissed but didn’t falter.

Alonso narrowed his eyes.

The Xok’al had released a powerful EM burst, using it to accelerate one of its blade mid-motion and override Ayu’s Awakening—something her reflexes couldn’t counter when the signals moved at the speed of light.

It was learning how to fight her.

The combat tilted.

The Warden had begun pressing the gap.

Despite being essentially a living weapon built to kill, it showed none of the overconfidence Alonso had seen in others. It approached combat with the mindset of a seasoned fighter—grounded, cautious, studying its opponent and exploiting the gap slowly, methodically, to bring her down.

This… was not good.

Another second passed, with five more instances of the Xok’al breaking through Ayu’s reflexive motion using the same tactic. Cuts had started appearing around her body, but she kept going, relentlessly engaging the Xok’al.

Until—something shifted.

The Warden disengaged.

Just for an instant.

Ayu blinked, her body half-turned for a counter.

But the creature didn’t press.

Instead—

Sparks.

Faint at first. Then growing.

They crackled across its torso, around its joints, over its back—an electric corona sparking to life.

Alonso drew a sharp breath—he knew what was coming.

Ayu stepped back, breathing hard, her chest rising and falling with heat. Steam poured from her shoulders, condensing against the cold steel walls.

Blood ran in thin trails down her arms and sides, dripping from fresh cuts that hadn’t had time to close.

Her stance remained perfect—lowered, knees flexed—but Alonso could tell. She was near the edge.

They looked at each other. No words were needed.

Both knew what had to be done.

Ayu closed her eyes for the briefest moment and drew a breath, much deeper than usual.

And then—she disappeared.