CHAPTER 2:
Awaken
2.1 – Alba
“GUAH!”
“WUUA!”
“GRU-AH-GRU-AH!”
After a brief silence, more shouts followed the first.
Loud. Deep. Guttural.
In a single word:
Wrong.
Not the calling of some animal. There was structure to them — intention.
But no human lungs or mouth could have made them either.
Alba froze, heart about to burst out of her chest.
Leaves rustled. Branches cracked under heavy steps. They were getting closer.
“Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit—” she swore over and over as she finally found the will to move.
Her hand shot to her belt.
She drew her gun and slipped behind one of the purple-trunked trees. Breath held, she peeked out every few seconds, trying to glimpse whatever was climbing the hill.
A terrible thought struck her. That animal I killed yesterday — I called it domestic.
What if her guess was right? What if it belonged to someone?
No, no, no, she thought, shaking her head. They said primitive lifeforms — nothing intelligent enough to breed animals.
The rustling and stomping grew louder. Multiple heavy steps.
“Maybe I can talk to them...?” she muttered, already sweating.
From behind the tree, she saw a tall, heavy figure emerge from the brush — walking on two legs.
It had hands. One held something.
“Okay.” She steadied her breath. “Friendly approach.”
Alba stepped out from behind the tree, hands raised high in surrender.
“I come in peace! I mean no harm!” she called.
“GRUAH!”
A shout answered her — something between a growl and a gorilla’s mocking cry, powerful enough to make her skin vibrate.
The figure lumbered closer.
Now she could see it clearly.
It was naked — skin chalk-white and slick with a strange moist sheen. Tufts of coarse hair sprouted along its shoulders and atop its broad, squared head.
But its face froze her.
A large nose — or maybe a short proboscis — grew from its forehead, hanging past the mouth and obscuring much of it. Four fangs jutted from the corners of its lips.
The overall impression reminded her of Admiral Cornelius wrapped in a sea-elephant costume.
“So the locals are... not cute,” Alba whispered, unable to think of anything else.
The creature kept approaching — slowly, almost gently, as if not to scare her.
It was massive — easily over two meters tall.
Belly large and protruding, arms long and muscular, three-fingered hands nearly brushing the ground, legs squat and powerful.
“Hello! I come in peace!” she tried again, raising her arms even higher.
The creature stopped. Looked straight at her with small, black eyes. Then it began making a low, rumbling sound — continuous and choked.
Something was off.
“L-laughter?”
Her gaze darted to the hand it kept behind its leg — half hidden.
A glint of jagged stone caught her eye.
“Is that... an axe?”
Alba jolted back. The arm came up.
Yes — an axe.
She dove aside just as the weapon whooshed past and slammed into the trunk behind her with a loud crack.
Rolling, she came up pistol raised.
Her finger squeezed the trigger again and again — no counting, barely aiming.
The creature let out a deafening roar, staggering.
Alba turned and ran.
More furious howls followed. The trees shook; wings beat overhead as the forest scattered.
“I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead,” she rasped between breaths as she tore through the woods.
“I’m so dead!”
Behind her, heavy thumping closed in.
The monsters were giving chase.
A quick glance at the pistol’s display — forty rounds left.
Six fired, and the creature still wasn’t down.
At least inside the woods, she had one advantage: being smaller than them.
Alba darted between trees, the holoscreen of her omni-com projecting the compass to keep her from getting lost.
She had to reach the drop pod — shut herself inside. Then wait for—
A notification blinked above the compass.
Decryption complete.
With newfound hope, Alba kept running.
Her lungs were on fire, her legs lead — but somehow, she made it.
She burst through the treeline and sprinted across the open terrain toward her shelter, not daring to look back. If she slowed even a step, her body would give out.
When she slammed her hand against the omni-com to open the cell door and stumble inside, her legs finally gave in just a few steps from the capsule.
Still on her knees, she pulled up the terminal.
Τ? ζητε??; — “What do you seek?”
The prompt glowed across the display.
She opened the decryption results:
Το?τ? ?κ κλ?σματο? πλ?ττειν μ?λλον.
The omni-com had already provided a translation:
“With this fragment, to forge the future.”
“I don’t know—" *pant* “—what the hell that means—" *pant* “—but please! Just work!”
Hands shaking, she sent the words from her device to the capsule. The terminal answered almost instantly — normal cryo-capsule procedure now:
ACCESS GRANTED.
“Yes!” Her shout echoed through the chamber as she navigated the terminal’s menu.
A few frantic taps later, what she sought appeared.
Start revival process of prisoner WXA52473JKT? — Y/N
“Yes! Yes! Yes!”
Alba jabbed the holographic button repeatedly, as if pressing it multiple times would make the process faster.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Then—
*CLA-CLA-CLANK*
The bars holding the capsule in place slid back. Cold haze began to spill from hidden vents.
“I’m saved!” Alba muttered in disbelief, dragging herself upright.
Still linked to the capsule terminal, another notification blinked on her omni-com:
Time until revival completion: 00:05:55.
She drew a ragged breath.
The door. I have to close the door.
She had rushed to the capsule without looking back.
Her heart pounded as she typed on her wrist to access the door controls while walking close to the exit to see if she was followed.
Her fingers brushed the holoscreen—
“GRAAAA!”
A massive hand lunged for her — large enough to crush her chest — and missed by a hair’s breadth.
Alba stumbled back, hit the floor hard — but her fingers had brushed the close command just in time.
The cell door hissed and sealed.
—The creature was halfway through.
The two halves clamped down on its ribcage with a wet, crunching sound, forcing it to its knees.
A raw, guttural scream tore from its throat.
More howls followed, turning the cell into a cacophony of pained echoes.
The blast door kept grinding shut — crushing bone and muscle as it pressed.
But the alien monster was still alive, thrashing in frenzy.
It clawed at the floor, trying to force its way through — gouging deep scratches into the metal with bloodied fingers — tearing its meat and nails as it did.
Still on the ground, Alba raised her pistol and fired again. And again.
She didn’t stop until the screaming did.
The body slumped at last, riddled with bullets, twitching face-down in a growing pool of dark, viscous red.
“It’s dead...”
She whispered it — needed to hear the words to believe them.
That monster had been relentless.
Then the harder truth hit her.
More are coming.
If one had found the pod, the rest weren’t far.
She glanced at the back of her gun — seventeen rounds left.
It had taken more than half a magazine to bring one of those monsters down, and that was at close range.
The door wasn’t closing.
Tears welled in her eyes. Her breathing faltered.
She was so close — but still about to die.
“I don’t want to die here. I don’t want to die now. Not after everything I’ve endured.”
She gritted her teeth and tightened the grip on the pistol — rose.
“I’m not letting any damn monsters kill me.”
With a burst of defiance, she jumped over the broken body blocking the entrance and climbed onto the roof of the cell.
Her eyes swept north.
There — moving fast through the grass. Five of them.
Two charged side by side, massive axes in hand — shafts taller than she was.
Crude but deadly: branches wrapped in tight leather strips, the heads carved from sharp triangular slabs of white stone. One edge cut, the other pierced.
The other three lagged farther back, slower — the one at the center unharmed, maybe, but wearing a dark cloak over its shoulders.
One of the front monsters growled and leveled its weapon toward her.
—She’d been spotted.
Alba dropped flat on the roof, pistol in hand, projected a holographic sight, and took aim.
No panic shots this time.
The two in front surged forward.
“Not yet... come closer, bastards.”
She centered the left one in her crosshair and squeezed the trigger when she felt time was right.
The shot tore into its shoulder. The creature howled, clutching the wound, then raised its axe to shield its face.
Five more rounds — this time lower.
Hip. Thigh. Groin.
The monster staggered and collapsed into the grass.
“I’m no easy prey! You hear me! Go back into your woods!”
The one on the right seemed to understand the challenge. It crossed its arms over its face and barreled forward, faster than the first.
Alba aimed low again, releasing more rounds — trying to cripple it.
But this one was quicker. It didn’t fall in time.
The creature dived, slamming into the cell wall with enough force to shift the whole structure.
The impact sent a deep metallic groan through the air — knocked Alba from the opposite side of the curved roof.
She hit the ground hard.
Pain flashed through her spine — but adrenaline forced her upright again.
Staggering, she searched for movement.
The charging beast reappeared, limping toward the cell entrance. Cold mist still hissed from within.
It stood beside its dead peer at the door, snarling. Blood soaked its lower body, one arm shielding its monstrous head.
Alba shouted and fired.
Five bullets punched into its belly and forearm—
*Click. Click. Click.*
Then nothing.
Empty.
Alba’s legs realized she was too tired to run anymore before her mind did.
—Her knees gave out.
The huge humanoid beast dragged itself closer, one leg trailing uselessly behind.
“At least I t-tried... I...”
Then another sound — a metallic voice from inside the cell.
“Revival process: Complete.”
Alba’s eyes widened.
“Prisoner WXA52473JKT:”
She glanced at her omni-com.
Time until revival completion: 00:00:00.
“—AWAKEN.”
The haze thickened.
The creature stopped, turning toward the cell’s entrance.
A dull noise — then steps echoing on steel.
From the freezing fog, a shape emerged.
Tall. Human. Bare-chested.
She couldn’t see clearly — but it could only be him.
Her heart started beating again.
The figure stepped out, standing on the corpse beneath him. He looked around, confused.
“What the hell is going on out here?” was the first thing he said, half twisted by a yawn.
Not very heroic, thought Alba.
He stretched his arms as the creature’s gaze settled on him.
“And who are you? Are we still at war?”
Alba tried to speak — to warn him — but her mouth moved uselessly.
—A clean hit.
The creature cocked its massive arm and backhanded him with bone-cracking force.
Smacked square in the face, Zweihander was sent flying — tumbling across the ground with a brutal crash.
Alba blinked.
“...and he’s dead. Just like that. He’s dead.”
The monster didn’t even pause.
It resumed lumbering toward her as if it had only swatted a bug.
“This is it — my last hope crushed in front of me. Fitting.”
A dry, bitter smile crept onto her face as tears welled again.
The monster — now before her — raised its weapon.
Alba closed her eyes.
This was the end.
She had to accept it — at least die with an inch of dignity.
What use begging it?
She exhaled. Not a scream. Not a sob.
Just air.
It didn’t matter when the axe would find her.
“Hey, basfad...”
Her eyes flew open.
A man stood behind the creature, calmly popping his jaw back into place with a series of crunching sounds.
“What was that for, huh?”
The creature turned.
Zweihander faced it — unfazed.
Unharmed — like the fight hadn’t even started.
The monster lifted its proboscis and bared its teeth in a snarl.
Then it swung the axe down in a brutal arc.
A shockwave hit. Dust kicked up. Alba flinched, eyes clamping shut.
When she opened them again the axe had stopped.
Its shaft rested in Zweihander’s bare palm, the monster straining, unable to press further.
Zweihander stared at it.
“Brute strength only,” he said, disappointed. “And not even much of it.”
The Alter twisted the weapon sideways — with explosive force.
The monster’s arm snapped; bone burst through from the forearm as a shrill cry tore the air.
“Whoever designed you didn’t put much effort into it,” Zweihander went on, taking the axe for himself. “Average strength — instincts as dull as your intellect. Can’t even speak, can you?”
Not that one would come, but he didn’t wait for an answer.
The Alter’s body shifted — then released a blow that split the air with a gust of wind.
The monster’s upper half was obliterated in a spray of blood that stained the grass for meters — the axe shattering with it.
Zweihander dropped the broken handle, dusted his hand off — and turned to Alba.
“Hey, you alright?” he asked, stepping closer.
She could see him clearly now.
Only white, knee-length briefs covered him — already slick with blood and dust.
He stood tall, maybe one-eighty and some. Muscular, not an ounce of fat on him — inhumanly so.
His skin was smooth and pale, furrowed only by the tension of ready-to-strike muscles.
Short, slightly wavy black hair framed his head.
Yet the first thing she noticed wasn’t any of that — it was his eyes.
Golden.
Faintly shimmering of their own light.
Slit pupils — like a reptilian or a feline predator.
Her breath hitched when their gazes met.
Alba understood then what he’d meant when mocking the monster’s dull instincts.
Even she could feel it — the pressure — danger.
A feeling not unlike standing before Cornelius — only more… unstable.
Wilder.
The Alter sighed.
“Did everyone forget how to speak while I was asleep?”
She blinked — realized she was still frozen from shock and awe.
“Oh! Y-yes. I’m okay, I think!”
—A shadow loomed behind Zweihander.
“Watch out, Zweiha—”
Another axe came down.
This time he stepped aside — dodging without even looking.
Zweihander caught the weapon while the monster heaved it high.
He let the momentum lift him with the axe, vaulting over the creature. At the peak of the motion, he kicked the axe’s head.
The pointed face slammed into the creature’s skull with the crack of flesh and bone shattering — splitting the head clean to the jaw.
The body crumpled lifeless into the tall grass — no cries this time.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to postpone introductions,” he said glancing at Alba, as if he’d done something entirely ordinary.
Then flicked his tongue.
“There’s three more.”
With one hand he yanked the axe free from the corpse and slung it over his shoulder.
Heavy footsteps. Growls.
A new creature charged from behind the cell, axe raised. A second followed close behind. The first lifted its weapon — but Zweihander had already struck.
Both legs severed in one sweep; before the body even hit the ground, the returning arc cleaved through its neck.
—A clean decapitation.
The second monster halted, stunned by the slaughter before it. Then it turned and ran.
Zweihander spun once, releasing the axe mid-turn. The weapon struck the fleeing creature’s back. It collapsed with a strangled cry.
The Alter then walked to the cell and retrieved another axe from the hand of the headless corpse.
Alba stumbled to her feet, watching as he strode toward a massive figure.
The last enemy had arrived — different from the rest.
Larger, nearly three meters tall, shoulders broad, stomach protruding like a boulder.
Its proboscis was longer — so were its fangs.
And it was clothed.
A fur cloak hung from its back, clasped by a crude chain of round links.
Its fingers reached into the folds and drew a curved blade — jagged, rusted, as high as Zweihander himself.
The creature stopped beside the dying one that had tried to flee.
What Alba read as disgust crossed the monster’s face.
The wounded subordinate reached out a trembling hand toward it—
The giant slammed the sword down, cleaving its skull.
Zweihander stepped forward, unimpressed. “A sword? How thoughtful.”
The giant roared and charged.
But Alba wasn’t afraid.
She already knew how this would end.
“Sorry — I’ll kill you quickly,” she heard him say. “Can’t let you ruin that weapon with your clumsy swings.”
He planted one foot back, bent the other low — poised to sprint. The axe, held with both hands, rested on his shoulder.
A blue flicker — electricity — danced across his legs.
Then he disappeared with a gust of wind and dust.
The monster still stood.
—Headless.
Unable to find any words, she watched Zweihander approach the corpse from behind as a red fountain erupted from its neck.
She couldn’t fathom what she’d just witnessed.
The Alter wasn’t merely fast. No human — or Alter-human — should have been able to move at such speed. Not even speed specialized automata.
Alba rushed toward Zweihander, who was now eyeing the crude sword beside the collapsed carcass.
“Well, this thing’s garbage,” he said, scratching his head. “But still better than those axes, I guess.”
She flung herself at him without warning, arms locking tight around his leg. He staggered slightly at the sudden assault.
“What the — what hell are you doing?!” he snapped.
“Thank you, thank you!” Alba howled and sobbed.
“Thank you for saving meee — I’m so happy...They said primitive life! This is not primitive enough!” She pressed her tear- and snot-soaked face into his thigh like a toddler.
She actually felt like one. Accordingly, her speech collapsed into nonsense.
“I’m fo happy!” *sniff* “I wanted to meef you — so long…”
“Calm down! I can’t even understand what you’re saying!”
Zweihander groaned and started shaking his leg to get her off, but she clung with full-body desperation, refusing to release him.
After a moment, he gave up and placed a hand on her forehead, pushing her back just enough to pry her face away from his leg.
A slick thread of snot still connected them.
“No! Don’t refuse me!” she pleaded. “Let me thank you just a little more! Zweihan — no! Lord Zweihander!”
A shout echoed through the grassland.
“GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF, GIRL!”
