Then, standing in the shadow cast by Number Two, he raised his rifle and brought his eye to the sight. It was time to act—he could no longer dodge the enemy’s relentless blows.
The enemy. Yes, because that’s what stood before him: an enemy. Not a comrade anymore.
“Number Two is dead. Number Two is dead,” he repeated.
Number Three, standing beside him, hesitated to follow suit. He raised his weapon, braced it against his shoulder, ready to fire, but then lowered it, only to raise it again. As a medic, he understood that what he was seeing was a physical impossibility; as a Satellite Agent, he knew that physical impossibilities weren’t always beyond the scope of his work.
What stood before them was a grotesque and exaggerated case of atavism—a dormant gene in the long phylogenetic chain suddenly reawakened. In the cases he had studied, the patient might develop a vestigial tail or facial hair; no one had ever transformed into a giant caveman. Technically alive, sure—but after such a transformation, it was impossible for Number Two’s brain to remain intact. Or was it?
He hobbled toward his leader, his sprained ankle throbbing with pain.
“Number One, are you certain?” he asked, hesitating. “If it’s atavism, Two might still be… in there.”
“For the devil’s sake, Three!” Number Four interrupted. “You’re a man of science! How can you think Two is still alive after what just happened?”
“Four’s right,” said Number One, certain that Two was dead. “Open fire!”
Two is still alive in there, thought Three. Reluctantly, he complied with the order.
The shots hit their mark and threw it off balance. The rounds lodged into that grayish-purple flesh and, upon bursting, each one released a glowing blue liquid. Caught in the tufts of hair covering its swollen chest, stuck in its thighs and thick arms, the giant was now speckled with tiny, luminous blue dots.
“What the hell is that?” Adam asked, intrigued.
“The neurotoxin from the Satellite weapons I told you about,” Vicky replied. “The bullets released their chemical.”
“You think it’ll—?”
“No,” she cut him off immediately. “There’s no way we’ll see their full potential. An electromagnetic suppressor, in a zone where a E.F.D. is worth as much as a spark of light...” She shook her head. “It’s like throwing water on an imaginary fire.”
Whatever hope Adam had been holding onto faded with that comparison. “But—”
Vicky shook her head again. “As long as we’re here, the only thing the S747s have going for them is the mechanical and explosive power of their ammo,” she said.
The beast staggered back, trying to avoid the onslaught, digging its heels into the ground and sending tremors through the jungle. It flailed its arms like a madman swatting at a swarm of bees and, in its frenzy, slammed into trees and tore them from the earth, unleashing a rain of trunks and soil. It stumbled, took a few steps back, then spun around—its shadow sweeping across the clearing like the erratic hand of a massive sundial. Until finally, it regained its balance and avoided the fall.
“Shit…” Number One muttered under his breath. Saying it aloud would’ve been as good as admitting defeat. “Keep going! Don’t let up!” he shouted at his agents, hoping they could subdue the mutant’s madness by bringing it to the ground. Not the mutant—Number Two. Number Two, who might still be alive in there, trapped. “Pulsation-B! Fire!”
The four took aim and squeezed the triggers again. The shots rained down, some grazing the caveman’s apelike face, others whizzing past its ears, while those that struck its chest, neck, and abdomen exploded on impact.
From the numerous wounds, now marked with the glowing blue neurotoxin, oozed a purplish tar-like substance, sliding down its massive body and pooling at its feet. The giant howled, shrill and sharp, though more out of fear from the noise than pain from the injuries.
Rage overtook him. With a twisted mouth, growling like a rabid dog on the verge of biting, the primitive creature clenched its fists. Once again, it prepared to crush its former comrades.
Raising its arms to the sky like a colossus summoning the strength of the gods, it slammed them down with earth-shaking force.
The dry ground around the black rock cracked open as though an earthquake were tearing through from below. Wherever the mutant struck, chunks of earth broke away, sending up clouds of dust that danced in the blazing sunlight.
The lifeless body of the android, Reed, still coated in a viscous sap, rolled across the ground like a drifting corpse on a sea of soil. The surviving section of the dome’s plastic covering, untouched by the liquid amethyst, fluttered like a translucent carpet, while the steel rods holding it up wavered in the air, creating a deafening resonance.
The troglodyte lifted a fallen palm tree, and the four agents in tails scattered across the clearing. The savage’s eyes darted back and forth, searching for its first target. Its thick fingers gripped the trunk tightly, its nostrils flaring as it panted for air.
Adam and Vicky moved aside. Provoking Number Two was a terrible idea; if it started throwing things, he’d hit someone sooner or later. Anything the giant hurled would be too large to dodge quickly.
Adam tripped over one of the upturned chunks of earth and would have fallen flat on his face if Vicky hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him.
With the palm tree in hand, Number Two spun around, searching for a target.
Thud, thud, thud—his footsteps sank into the ground. One of them landed directly on Reed, who was crushed into a heap of flattened silicone, shards of metal, and a puddle of dark oil. Adam gasped, realizing just how close he had been to ending up the same way.
The monster’s growls grew louder as it picked its target for the palm tree. Thick drops of dark purple blood oozed from its small wounds, splattering everywhere and forming puddles on the cracked ground. Thud, thud, thud. It blinked a few times until its gaze settled on a particular figure. Preparing to launch the long trunk, it drew its arm back like a javelin thrower.
Adam knew this would happen. Damn it, he knew it! Somehow, Vicky was bound to attract the troglodyte’s attention—maybe because she was the only woman. Or maybe it was because, unlike the others, she hadn’t antagonized him with shouts, reckless dashes, or annoying gunfire.
Number Four, Number Five, and Adam, standing near her, moved aside just seconds before that massive wooden missile left the mutant’s hand. The two agents rolled to the ground and sprang into a crouch, their weapons already trained on the target. How they managed to roll on the ground and still maintain their elegance was, to Adam, admirable. He, too, managed to dodge in time, though with clumsy, almost comical movements that earned him a few fresh scrapes.
And Vicky? He looked for her and found her still standing in the same spot. She hadn’t moved.
The giant hurled the palm tree, sending it arcing through the air, trailing green fronds and a spray of dirt.
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At the last moment, Vicky somersaulted out of the way. The enormous projectile slammed into the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and a shower of splinters.
“Are you insane?!” Adam yelled at her.
“If I’d moved earlier, it would’ve kept looking for someone else to throw that tree at,” Vicky argued. “I bought us some time.”
With his face drenched in sweat and his dark glasses smeared with grime, Number One turned toward them.
“I said to fall back!” he shouted. He had given an order, and they had disobeyed; he was the leader, and they were supposed to follow. The situation was spiraling out of control.
His black coat had turned almost brown from all the dust clinging to it. He huffed to clear his lips and called to his team, ordering Pulsation-C. They would no longer use regular ammunition against the beast. It was time to show the true power of their weapons.
The rifles let out their electric hum again, and a pulsating halo glowed at the barrels’ wide mouths, signaling a devastating attack. They had to aim for the places where the giant lacked muscle—where it would be easier to hit a vital organ… like the brain. That had been their mistake before. This would end soon.
“Aim for his head!”
“But One—!” Number Three hesitated, glancing at the others as if hoping someone else would challenge the order. “We’ll kill him!”
“Shoot his forehead! Now!” Number One barked.
He was the leader, damn it! What was next, his own people questioning his decisions? Number Two—his right hand, his best friend—was dead. That monstrosity was no longer Two. He turned toward Number Three to shout another ‘Now!’ but instead let out a choked gasp. The giant had just swiped at him.
The blow landed squarely on the back of Number One’s neck, hurling him toward the forest. Everyone heard the sickening CRACK! as his skull hit a trumpet tree, the unmistakable sound of a watermelon splitting apart.
Number One crumpled face down on the ground, his head twisted to an unnatural angle, his wide-open eyes staring upward. His glasses were gone, lost in the impact, and his wide-open eyes gazed blankly into the void.
Adam let out a soft moan.
Vicky looked away.
Number Three was struck dumb.
Number Four pressed his lips together.
Number Five, who had lost his glasses earlier, picked up their leader’s from the dirt and put them on.
The troglodyte growled, ready to unleash its fury once more.
The three agents braced themselves. They raised their S747s, the laser sights floating on the giant’s forehead like fireflies searching for a landing spot. Gradually, the lights converged into a single point, just above the pronounced ridge of Number Two’s brow, where thick bone and skin offered less resistance than its massive muscles.
They pulled the triggers, unleashing the destructive force of Pulsation-C. Three fist-sized missiles, encased in electric light, shot from the rifles’ wide barrels and hit their mark. There was a deafening blast, followed by another CRACK! even more horrifying than the sound of Number One’s head breaking. Then, an explosion.
The giant screamed. The projectiles had pierced its skull and detonated inside. A spray of purple tar burst from its forehead, spattering the clearing and the treetops before oozing down its face, dripping off its enormous jaw and onto its chest.
Adam closed his eyes.
Number Two wept violet blood, and that strange liquid amethyst seeped from between its crooked teeth. Its eyes rolled back, and with one final gasp, it collapsed backward onto the Ita-Hu. Its head struck the massive, hollowed rock, its legs sprawling over two uneven chunks of earth it had unearthed with its stomping.
The fall raised a cloud of dust so thick it blotted out the sun for what felt like an eternity.
That enormous human—or what was left of him after the transformation—was truly a sight to behold. Impressive and revolting.
How powerful must that purple substance be to have caused such a drastic change? And what other horrors lay hidden within that black, rough, warm stone—crystalline and cold on the inside? Vicky shrugged off her own questions.
Al Shaula. He was the one responsible.
Adam crouched and coughed. The dust kicked up by the mutant’s fall still hung heavy in the air.
“You okay?” Vicky asked, patting him on the back.
He nodded, though he was clearly fighting to keep himself from throwing up. The putrid blood, the violence, the desperation—it was all too much for his stomach.
Vicky understood, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. He’d recover. She shifted her focus to the remaining three members of F-Team. They were in bad shape—humiliated and down two agents.
Numbers Four and Five stood in the sun near Number Two’s massive foot—towering over them like a bruised concrete wall—when Number Three emerged from the jungle. As the group’s medic, he’d gone to confirm their leader’s death. Head bowed, he limped back into the clearing, barely putting weight on one foot. He didn’t say a word to his teammates, and none of them asked him anything.
With the sound his head made, there wasn’t much to confirm, Vicky thought.
Number Three checked the blow to Number Five’s swollen, red forehead. He removed the glasses Five had taken from Number One and examined his eyes, forcing him to endure the glare of the sun for a moment. Moving his finger in front of Five’s face, he instructed him to follow it with his eyes; so far, so good.
“Let’s head back to camp,” Vicky said, raising her voice.
The command wasn’t just for Adam but also for the three agents. It was more than a suggestion—it was an order. Without intending to, Vicky had stepped into the role of leader.
The Satellite agents were too shaken to argue. Besides, she was right. There was nothing left to do here.
“Can you…?” Vicky started to ask Adam, but he stood on his own and began walking toward the jungle path leading back to camp. He seemed too shaken to comment. Making sure the small container with the rock sample was still in her pocket, she followed him.
The Satellites trailed behind them.
“I could use a cold beer,” one of the agents said.
Vicky passed a striking parrot watching them from a tree.
“Still can’t fly?” she asked Adam. He just shook his head.
The radiation from the rock continued to exert a gravitational pull on anything airborne. Disabling the force field hadn’t counteracted it—at least, not yet.
Curious, she glanced back over her shoulder for one last look at that mysterious rock before entering the thicket. She quickly turned her eyes forward again. From her vantage point, what stood out most was the giant’s exposed groin in all its glory.
“Impressive, huh?” said the same agent who’d mentioned beer. “I’m telling you, plenty of girls would pay to see something that big.”
Oh, for heaven’s sake! What an idiotic thing to say!
Vicky turned to see who had made the ridiculous comment and identified Number Four by the insignia on his badge. She didn’t dignify it with a response, opting instead to glare at him with disdain.
“Poor Number Two. His girlfriend won’t…” the agent started to say, but another teammate silenced him with a sharp ‘shhh.’
What was wrong with that idiot? Was he so rattled that he couldn’t keep his mouth shut? Why couldn’t he be as quiet as the rest? They had to cover the four-hundred-some yards of trail—a short distance, but so winding and riddled with swampy potholes and roots that it felt much longer than it really was. And she had no intention of doing it while putting up with the loose tongue of some idiot.
She huffed in frustration and used the sleeve of her filthy gold-and-black shirt to wipe the dirt off her face. Her eyes burned slightly, still irritated by the dust, but they’d recover—she hoped.
She glanced at Adam from the corner of her eye. His silence unsettled her.
“You okay?” she asked again.
“Yeah, yeah… thanks,” he replied, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Vicky… something happened when that cloud…”
But noticing how close Number Three was, Adam fell silent and signaled to her that he’d explain later. It was better that way; for now, they were all together, but she couldn’t forget that the Satellites, while not the enemy, weren’t entirely trustworthy either.
They moved through palm trees and ferns, pushing aside vines that hung from the trees and blocked their path, surrounded by a wild symphony of birdsong and the distant cries of monkeys. It was a soothing melody compared to the troglodyte’s roars and the sound of the ground splitting, which had overwhelmed their ears earlier.
Even so, the trek back was exhausting. On top of their fatigue, the gravitational force from the radiation made walking feel like an effort rather than a simple activity.
Once again, Adam seemed about to speak to her but stopped when he noticed the curious looks from the agents.
“Is something wrong?” Vicky whispered.
Adam shook his head. “Don’t worry,” he said, though there was a hint of unease in his voice. “I’ll tell you later, when we’re alone.”
A few feet ahead, they spotted the camp behind a curtain of ferns and noticed some commotion around the tents and vehicles. Biologists and geologists were rushing about, joined by men in gray suits, while an excavator worked near the trees.
Vicky felt a surge of adrenaline. Something was wrong. And as they reached the end of the path, where the dense trees gave way to the wide clearing of the camp, she walked straight into something solid.