Chapter 57: Tundra Trove
Nioh and his new group had been advancing through the Expanse for hours. Under his leadership, they prioritized prudence over speed, making slower progress than he would have liked. Every thirty seconds, he snapped his fingers, releasing a low-frequency sound wave to map out the surroundings. Behind the bandages that concealed his face, he quietly observed the group’s actions, assessing their individual performances.
Kyle was the navigator, guiding them by reading the clouds, wind pressure, and scent. Nioh had to admit—he was exceptionally talented. The next most competent was Brae, who had solid instincts and knew how to handle herself. Juith and Trum, however, lacked agency, following Brae’s lead without question.
As they pressed forward, an unsettling feeling gnawed at Nioh. The deeper they ventured, the stronger his unease grew. Yet no matter how keenly he watched, or analyzed, he couldn’t pinpoint its source.
The sun was still high in the sky, but dusk loomed in the distance. He needed to find shelter—somewhere defensible for the night.
"What is that?" Trum asked, pointing toward a large cocoon nestled at the base of a towering tree.
Nioh approached cautiously, drawing a pocket knife. He pressed the blade against the silk, testing its resistance—but no matter how much force he applied, the material remained unscathed.
"Do you have fire?" he asked, unwilling to risk direct contact in case the cocoon was venomous.
Juith handed over her plasma sword. The moment the superheated blade touched the cocoon, it combusted in a flash, disintegrating into a cloud of acrid smoke.
What remained was a desiccated corpse.
A deer—or at least what was left of one. Its body had been hollowed out from within, its ribcage ruptured, organs long devoured. Most grotesque of all were the clusters of translucent eggs bulging from its innards, incubating something unnatural inside.
Kyle staggered back, doubling over as he vomited the remnants of his last meal. The others instinctively took a step away, their faces contorted in revulsion.