The Final Trial, page 8
part #3 of Level Up Series
It wasn’t completely dark — the sky was filled with twinkling stars that didn’t form any constellations I recognized. There were no indications of any satellites like our moon, but it was light enough for me to see in front of my face. The ground was now covered in the transparent foundation that made up the surface of the covering of the base. The material of the floor called to mind a honeycomb: six-sided shapes flickering on the edges. It was a beautiful sight, but when I focused on it to try to learn what it all meant, I came up empty.
From the outside, my house looked like one of those six-sided honeycombs, but one with walls along the edges that converged in a dome in the center. Walking around it, I touched the walls a few times, and whenever I gave a mental command or even just a hint of a desire, a door opened. I tried to touch it with other parts of my body, but the door didn’t open, even if I commanded it to.
Walking in increasingly wider spirals, I made my way to the edge of the base.
Basic protective barrier
Level 1.
The fence was purely decorative — no argument there. Still, its surface was smoother than glass, so at least a couple of mobs couldn’t reach the base. Cockroaches wouldn’t be able to enter because there was nothing for their legs to hold on to, and kirpi were just too short to get in. They may be brave enough to bite your feet but surely not tall enough to enter.
But it wasn’t an obstacle for the other mobs I'd run across. The Krekens could easily fly over the barrier, and the whistlers could jump over it. I’d already seen evidence that they could jump high.
According to the description, the fence’s durability was 100 points. These numbers meant nothing to me, but if I used the Kreken location boss for comparison, he could dispense with them before you could say “napalm spittle”.
The description said that the fence could be upgraded through the command center. Okay. It was time now to go try to figure out all the other upgrades and modules.
The moment I thought about it, I heard something massive breaking through the fence. More chirping sounds came from nearby. I dashed toward the house, opened the door and stumbled inside. As the door closed, I heard something heave a disappointed sigh.
Then something bulky hit the wall. It withstood — but where the object had impacted, shock waves spread across its surface.
There was no way in hell I was going to risk my second-to-last life to satisfy my curiosity. Let them try to break through if they want to. I guess I’d rather be studying the features of the base.
I used the navigation menu to look at the production modules that could be generated. For now I could access only two items: the fighting unit module and the uniform module. The first one cost 50 points and the second one, 30 points.
The level 1 fighting unit module would allow me to create my own squadron of mobs. Charisma affected the rate of generation of new units and the number of units used at the same time. Right now I had 17 points, which meant that I could immediately create 17 units.
That was a shocker. Did that mean that Carter only had four units because his Charisma was low? I urgently needed more existence resources.
In retrospect, I realized that Carter may have lost some of his mobs in battle, or the rate of generation of new units didn’t allow him to create a lot right away. Still, this wasn’t the time to find out — and guessing was out of the question. In order to understand all the details, I should first buy myself a module and launch the mob generation.
But for now I couldn’t buy anything with my 12 paltry existence resource points. Even the first upgrade of the fence cost 20 points.
This raised a question: should I wait until morning or should I go out and take a risk at night? I didn’t think about it for long. If the logic here was similar to what I’d seen in the preliminary selection, it meant that the local mobs scaled up. Which meant that I could try.
The creature that had been pounding on the walls of the house had given up by now. But did it go away for good or was it still by the house watching out for me? In any case, I exited from the opposite side.
My heart was pounding. The stakes in my adventure were so high that I had butterflies in my stomach.
I looked around and didn't see anything nearby. I breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly, pressing against the wall, I walked around the house and lucked out: I spotted the monster that had been chasing me before it saw me.
It was breathing wheezily, listening closely to something and peering into the darkness behind the fence. In the place where it had broken through the barrier, a gaping hole was now darkening.
The creature looked kind of like a three-legged stool, but its legs were dominated by freakishly bent joints. The body was almost humanoid, but the limbs looked more like horned, double-edged boards, and the head sat on a long ostrich neck.
Kraider
Elite.
Level 3.
Life points: 800.
Elite? That was fine with me — 800 life points were half the amount the Kreken had. I’d manage.
In three leaps I was behind its back and pummeling its head and body.
You’ve dealt damage to the kraider: 36.
Damage absorbed by armor: 50% Actual damage: 18.
You’ve dealt damage to the kraider: 22.
Damage absorbed by armor: 50% Actual damage: 11.
You’ve dealt damage to the kraider: 46.
Damage absorbed by armor: 50% Actual damage: 23.
Based on the logs, kraider wasn’t the mob’s name, but the species. The fact that the monster didn’t have a name didn’t make the task any easier — if it went like this, I might be fighting it until morning.
Zing! Without moving its legs, the creature was rotating around its axis. With a whistle, it hastily bored its “sword” between my ribs, shattering my bones and instantly knocking off almost a quarter of my health.
As I wailed in pain, it lifted me into the air and looked searchingly into my eyes. For additional support, the kraider bored a second “sword” into the covering of my base.
The bleed DOT ticked, sucking out my life: a heartbeat per tick, one percent every 10 ticks. As ill luck would have it, my heart was beating furiously and the pain made it hard to breathe.
The kraider’s eight pairs of eyes indifferently waited while my blood gushed. It hypnotized me, inserting into me thoughts about the futility of combat and a quick escape from the torture. Even though its body looked humanoid, it was really an arachnid.
My impaled body crept down its makeshift sword. My health points continued to drop, and this made me think about selling my life for more. Using my hands, I dragged myself closer to the kraider.
Was it my imagination or did the creature look surprised?
It had to be my imagination. With great satisfaction I rammed my power fist into one of its many eyes.
The eye exploded with a pleasing smack.
You’ve dealt critical damage to the kraider: 296.
The monster screeched and reached out a second limb, but it couldn’t maintain its balance and began to fall. I managed to land a few well-positioned, powerful punches, hammering each eye until I heard the protective layer pop. Bubble wrap, that’s what we used to call this sort of substance at Ultrapak.
The last strike broke the creature’s skull. Something sticky splashed out. Shuddering in predeath agony, the kraider’s chirping abated as it expired.
With a flash, it dematerialized, leaving an item in its wake.
It was a decent-sized existence crystal.
+44 existence resource pt.
Verifying the probability of receiving bonus existence resources (20%)...
Verification complete!
+44 existence resource pt.
Of course the valuable loot made me happy, but not as happy as the fact that the kraider’s body was now gone, complete with the sword-like arm I’d been impaled on.
Clutching my wound, I stumbled back to the house and collapsed on the floor in relief as soon as the door shut behind me. Safe at last!
The wound soon healed over. The bleed DOT expired. For the next hour I waited for the regeneration to finish. As I lay there, I estimated that I now had enough resources for the fighting unit module and the uniform module. How long could I continue to walk around naked?
If I also needed resources to generate my own mobs, it would be better to wait with the clothes. Right now it was more important to acquire a pack of fighting units: it would be easier to farm with them, and for all I knew, the fast-developing Carter could reappear in the morning. Then how would I defend myself? I’d lose the hexagon and everything. It would be all over then, disincarnation and the end of the Trial.
So first, the units. I opened the command center menu, pressed on the item I needed and accepted the charge of 50 existence resource points. My high Intellect would speed up the construction of the module.
The fighting unit module generation process has been initiated.
Time to completion: 3 minutes.
Generation complete. Do you want to create fighting units?
Hell yeah!
I accepted. The system asked if I wanted to design new units or choose from a catalog of existing ones. I opened “Catalog” and flinched.
The creatures were straight out of nightmares: mechanoids, insectoids, humanoids, synthetic androids, reptiles, animals, birds, plus some totally unclassifiable creatures I couldn’t begin to describe — large and small, fast and slow. There was everything under the sun. Even though the units all looked different, their stats were standard: ability to attack, travel speed, attack speed, damage, health points, armor.
I leafed through the bestiary which was organized into species and their roles in the group. The roles were clear: melee combat and long-range combat. There were no tanks, healers or buffers for support; the units couldn’t boast many talents at all. They fought by biting, punching, clawing or using primitive weapons, such as clubs and bows. There was no high tech or even anything metal. Although the barrel-shaped droids could attack with electric shocks, the damage from them was no worse than a good old whack across the head with a club.
I then found the evidence of the participation of our former planet neighbors in the Trial and Diagnostics. I would like to report that these were brilliant, agile fighters with outstanding reactions and powerful damage, but that wasn’t the case. It was standard damage and low armor, but the species! I’d been fantasizing about this since I was a kid! It was a dream to put together my own army just from these mobs, which even included different species, and were divided among melee and long-range combat.
A level 1 unit cost 1 existence resource point. The cost to maintain their biological processes was the same 1 point per hour, but for the entire permitted pack. That was for all 17 beautiful, terrifying predatory dinosaurs: a dozen Velociraptors that were ravenously baring their teeth, and a magnificent quintet of Dilophosauri that spit poisonous saliva a good 10 yards. I didn’t overthink their names, and just called them what we — humans — were used to calling them.
Velociraptor
Level 1 melee fighter
Phil’s fighting unit.
Health points: 450/450.
Attack: 21–25.
Damage absorbed by armor: 9%.
Maximum travel speed: 40 mph.
Race talent: Pack, +1% to damage for each additional individual in a group of the same species.
Dilophasaurus
Level 1 long-range combat fighter
Phil’s fighting unit.
Health points: 300/300.
Attack: 28–35.
Damage absorbed by armor: 4%.
Maximum travel speed: 34 mph
Race talent: Pack, +1% to damage for each additional individual in a group of the same species.
Earth's paleontologists weren’t sure that Dilophosaurus attacked with venomous saliva, but that was their problem, not mine. My little Dillies would spit.
I pressed “Accept and start generation.” In less than an hour my interface was cluttered with the icons of each mob. Both the Raptors and the Dillies were numbered and had health bars — it was a full-fledged raid squadron.
The only thing missing was a tank. For now that would have to be me.
Hold on. Where were the units? The house was as empty as before: just me and the stone.
I mentally summoned the fighters, and something began to bang against the far wall. Boom! Boom! Boom! I heard some squealing and screeching. Could these be my guys at the door?
I walked outside and found myself surrounded by a crowd of little creatures from the Cretaceous period.
They were so small! The Raptors were the size of a Great Dane, but their tails made them seem massive, almost my height. The spitting Dilophosauri, which, based on the most recent data, were up to eighteen foot tall, poked me on the shoulder with their snouts.
The dinosaurs jostled one another and emitted unusual sounds as they tried to obey the summons. More than anything, they were acting like country chickens at feeding time. I barely managed to dodge their powerful tails.
“Holy crap! Line up, crocodiles!” I shouted when one of the most agile of the Raptors pierced the top of my foot with an enormous claw.
They fell into line and shifted from foot to foot, breathing noisily and gazing into my eyes loyally.
I examined my fighters. They might just as well have been incubated. I couldn’t detect any discrepancies. I knew that they wouldn’t release any XP, and that I could upgrade them only through the command center. But they notched up seniority points, and whenever they achieved particular successes, each of my reptiles could receive a new talent or buff.
The next upgrade would cost 250 existence resource points. Anyway, I hoped it would be easier to farm with them.
I left my small army to guard the territory and went back to the command center. Now it was time to get some clothes.
When I launched the generation of the equipment module, I had 3 existence resource points left out of 33. The module materialized right there in the house, next to the command center. It looked like a white plastic wardrobe. Its surface was scaly and warm, like the texture of the tunnel I’d gone through in the preliminary selection.
For two existence resource points, the command center offered me the chance to create a “basic test subject uniform” without specifying what that included. That was it for now. I didn’t have enough resources to upgrade the module, so I accepted the basic set. I felt a fleeting vibration: my uniform was ready.
I went over to the wardrobe but before I even had a chance to open it, an alarm rang out in my head while my ears heard my mobs squealing frantically.
Apparently, we were being attacked. I dashed out to rescue them.
The scene was sheer pandemonium. A massive hulk the size of a mammoth was grunting with pleasure as it munched on one of the Raptors. Sounding like thugs on a smoking break, the Dillies were spitting once per second. The buddies of the one that was being chewed up were hanging on to the sides of the monster, futilely trying to penetrate its plated chitinous spine with their claws and teeth.
“Home!” I uttered the mental command out loud and opened the door.
The Raptors fell off the hulk like overripe pears, jumped back to their feet and dashed toward me. The little Dillies followed them. Having vengefully covered the monster’s snout with black viscous spittle, they outran the melee fighters and reached the protective dome first.
I shut the door behind the last unit. The house was suddenly crowded.
I’d lost two fighters, both Velociraptors. The first one had been chewed to pieces and the second one had fallen under the monster’s several-ton bulk and was instantly crushed.
I ordered the fighters to sit still without making a noise, let alone breathe. We quieted down, waiting for the giant to leave.
The cunning bastard, realizing that its food had run off somewhere, continued to walk around the base for a long time, lumbering around the dome and vocalizing its outrage, until it finally snorted in anger and left.
It was just in time, because I was about to lose my last resource point to sustain the mobs and we urgently needed to go farm.
When I was already at the door, I remembered the uniform module. I went to check it.
Basic test subject uniform
Protection: +15.
Durability: 100%.
When I put it on, I finally understood what Protection meant. All the components of the uniform had their own armor numbers, and in the “+15 protection” sum showed the same 15% damage absorption. This included a complete set of underwear, combat boots, pants made of some stiff but flexible material, a synthetic belt, a fitted sweater, knee protectors, elbow protectors, shoulder pads and a multifunction bandana that I tied around my neck. I was especially surprised by the helmet, which completely covered my head. When I put it on, I didn't have any issues: I could see everything and breathe easily. It was a good, serviceable helmet. With my face covered, I’d feel much more confident facing any little Kreken.
