You are now the last surviving member of your party. Good luck!
+25 Ability Points
The ice cold water seemed to be good for something, as it helped to numb the pain, yet soon all that begin to fill Alan’s mind was the desperate need for air. Portions of his vision were beginning to swim in and out of focus. Eve was yelling something at him, yet he was finding it difficult to focus on her words. It was a struggle to force his arms to move upwards, every motion pure agony.
Yet he pushed onwards.
And then, almost miraculously, Alan surfaced. He took a deep breath, coughing up water. Somehow, he managed to stay afloat, the power armor set to some special mode by Eve. It hurt too much to think about it. Alan had somehow been blown all the way to beneath the far side of the bridge.
He slowly made his way to a rocky outcrop beneath a cliff. Using his upper body, Alan forced himself onto the rocks, collapsing in a heap of pain, shutting his eyes, trying to ignore it all. His backpack had been lost in the water, but his knife was still in a side compartment, and Alan had a few pain reliever pills from the med-kit stashed in another pocket, placed there after the previous battle. Avoiding looking at his legs, he took the pills out and swallowed a handful. A minute passed, and Eve's words finally made it to him.
OPEN YOUR EYES. LOOK TOWARDS THE CITY.
Wearily, Alan forced himself to sit up and did so, widening his eyes in surprise at the sight he saw. The fog had been blown away completely, revealing complete devastation in its wake. A crater had formed, nearly a mile in diameter, centered at where the bunker had once been. All of the surrounding buildings in the immediate vicinity had been flattened by the impact, including the fort. A miniature tsunami crashed into the cliffs behind him. Fortunately, it looked like the Golden Gate Bridge and most of the city was unaffected. All that earthquake reinforcement paid off.
The object had hit close enough to the coastline that the landing had created a deep hole in the cliff line, allowing Alan to look directly into the middle of the smoking pit. Staring as the smoke slowly drifted away, Alan was surprised to find that at the center of the crater there was a humanoid figure, on one knee. The Predecessor.
An over 10 foot tall behemoth, the Predecessor wore no armor except for a belt and a pair of shorts made out of some sort of dark leather. Despite being a member of an elder race, it looked remarkably savage and uncivilized, wielding no advanced technology as far as Alan could see. The Predecessor appeared to be a hairless humanoid, bulging muscles with bits of black pieces of metal embedded into its dark skin.
After staring at the Predecessor for a few moments, Eve sent:
STOP STARING, SHOOT AT IT.
Grimacing in pain, Alan reached over his shoulder, relieved to find the rifle he’d holstered to his back was still there. Maybe he should have detached it as it was weighing him down, but in all the chaos he’d barely even remembered it was there. Alan tried to aim at the Predecessor, finding it difficult as his hands shivered from the cold and his entire body convulsed in pain. He fired his first shot, but it missed completely, hitting a cliff rather than anywhere near the terrifying being.
Re-calibrating. Please wait... Fire again now.
Alan followed through, and this time the shot managed to hit the Predecessor's unprotected forearm. The Predecessor's HP bar showed up. It still had 94% of its health remaining. Alan fired again, this time scoring a headshot, yet it only did a fraction of a fraction of a percent of damage, and the Predecessor's health bar remained at 94%. How was he supposed to defeat this thing? The Predecessor looked up in Alan’s direction shortly after the second hit. Then, with a burst of strength, it leapt out of the crater, disappearing into the mainland almost faster than Alan could follow.
Shortly after, the Predecessor reappeared in a blur of movement near the entrance of the Golden Gate Bridge. Alan strained to focus on it as he felt Eve do the same. His perception shifted, as he felt his own thoughts somehow merge with Eve’s frantic calculations. Time seemingly slowed down as he attempted to fire at the Predecessor, the movement of his finger squeezing the trigger feeling like seconds rather than the millisecond it actually was. From Alan’s perspective, the Predecessor seemed to move almost normally, running at a human pace as everything about him slowed down.
Agonizingly slowly, Alan turned his sniper rifle to where Eve anticipated the Predecessor would move to and fired off a shot. This time, Alan was able to see the bolt of plasma erupt from the end of his rifle, travelling at the speed of an arrow as it streaked straight forwards and hit the Predecessor in the head. Once more, the blast failed to make any visible dent in the being’s HP pool.
At the moment before the gap in the bridge, the Haxlard shimmered into existence, having somehow withstood the impact of the Predecessor’s landing. The grey warrior held its blade with two hands, rushing forward to stab the Predecessor. Yet the Haxlard was moving so slowly. The Predecessor simply sidestepped the oncoming blade, taking a black knife out of its belt. It glanced at the Haxlard as he dived past in slow motion, then decapitated him in one fell strike. A message popped up notifying Alan of the completion of the third round. He ignored it, concentrating on the Predecessor.
It proceeded along the bridge, preparing to leap over the gap. Somehow, Eve managed to once more anticipate where the Predecessor would be, and Alan’s next shot hit the godlike being’s center of mass mid leap. The Predecessor didn’t care. Alan let the rifle slowly drop out of his hands, struggling to think of some plan, anything that might help him. But he knew it was all futile.
Alan began to try to draw out his knife, his body simply unable to move at the speed he saw, he thought. The speed at which he wanted it to move. The impossible speed at which the Predecessor did move. A few more long, drawn out seconds that felt like minutes to Alan, and the Predecessor had finished crossing the bridge. It leapt down onto the cliffs, then landed on the rocks before Alan. It stared at Alan as he tried to move in slow motion to defend himself.
“Enough,” it said. Alan’s focus snapped, his perception reverting to its normal pace, the Predecessor’s face masked by some sort of blur. Eve’s presence in his mind diminished, returning back to normal, whatever weird state they had been in gone.
The Predecessor stared at Alan for another second, then it sighed, a visible energy leaking out of it.
“I had come here hopeful of new allies, yet your race are still but babes, playing around in the mud. Further from Aleph than any. You are a simple child at best, unaware of so much in this universe, this Game,” it bemoaned, emphasizing the word Game in such a way as if it despised nothing more.
“Were I to share but a fraction of the answers you wish, I doubt you’d comprehend them, and doubtlessly you’d end up dead within a week. Not death within the Game, this fake pain, but real, true, ending.” The Predecessor gestured wildly, taking its knife and cutting its own, scarred arm, lowering its HP by 0.2%. This created the first visible decrease Alan had seen its HP bar. Its blood was a dark blue liquid that congealed the moment it touched the air.
The predecessor took a deep breath, then let out another deep sigh. Its HP regenerated to 94% as the congealed blood travelled back into its body.