I continued my intense training for four days, which brings me to now. I’ve racked up a bit more EP, though it’s nothing to write home about, and other than that, I’ve made virtually zero progress.
I know I should be more decisive, but I haven’t used my EP surplus to level up anything yet or gain new skills. I’m just too hesitant when it comes to making big decisions like this. I admire Sako for her willingness to spend her points so easily when the circumstances called for it. Me, I’m just a big coward.
By the creek, I continue to jog, Angel hovering close in front, monitoring my every move. He knows well that I’d begin to slack off if he didn’t set the pace, and I probably would have only made half the EP without him.
“You’re halfway done,” Angel says, a bit too happy to see me drenched in sweat.
“I feel like I’m halfway in the grave,” I mutter. “It’s like I haven’t progressed at all.”
“On the contrary!” Angel says. “A few weeks ago, and you would have keeled over running for this long at this speed. Now look at you! I can’t say you’re in shape yet, but you’re still stronger than you were, and that’s gotta count for something.”
“Metaphorically, sure, but in terms of practicality, nothing,” I say.
“Don’t be such a sourpuss,” Angel says. “For once in your life, try to look on the bright side.”
“I am,” I say. “It’s wet, smelly, and full of bloodthirsty aliens.”
“You’ve never even seen one of the HET yet,” Angel says.
“And I’m a better woman because of it,” I say.
“You’re going to have to face them eventually, you know,” Angel says.
“Yeah. Honestly, just thinking about it terrifies me,” I say.
“Which is precisely why we’re staying away from the database feature for now,” Angel says. “The less you know, the better. You can focus on getting stronger.”
“I knew it,” I say. “You’ve been intentionally keeping us in the dark.”
“Yeah, sorry,” Angel says. “Truth is, since Project AIGODS was launched a few weeks ago, tons of data have been flowing into the Cloud. That means information on the HET, new skills, and the state of humanity.”
“New skills? Wait, so can I use the database for inspiration on my own ability creation?” I ask.
“You can,” Angel says. “But I’d advise against it. This is the sort of thing where nobody has the correct answer, as everyone’s solution is different. I believe it's best if you pave your own path, as opposed to using someone else’s.”
“You say that, but I’m the least creative person I know,” I say.
“It’s not like you knew very many people to begin with,” Angel says. “We’re getting a bit far. You should head back now.”
“Roger that,” I say.
I promptly turn around and start running the other way along the creek, maintaining a steady pace. It really has gotten a lot easier, though I still don’t like it. I can’t believe people actually used to do this sort of thing everyday BEFORE the HET showed up. Did they really just do it for fun? Makes me think professional athletes like Michael Phelps were total psychopaths.
A little while longer of running, and Angel swiftly zips in front of my face, prompting me to come to a halt.
“What is it?” I ask quietly, my body tensing up immediately. “Is there danger?”
“Nono, nothing of the sort,” Angel assures. “I just thought it would be a good time to learn about the enemy reader function on your reader. See that squirrel dead ahead?”
I scan through the leafy, brambly ground and spot a greyish squirrel munching on a nut in the not-so-far distance.
“Please don’t tell me to kill it,” I say. “It’s kinda… cute.”
“Open up your menu screen,” Angel says.
[Skills]
[Stats]
[Enemy Reader]
[Database]
[A.N.G.E.L.]
“Now choose the ‘enemy reader’ function,” he says. As soon as I do, the screen disappears, and the world around me becomes several shades darker. Like some kind of Instagram filter was placed on it.
“Uh, okay. Now it’s harder to see,” I say.
“That’s fine, it’s more for scouting than anything,” Angel says. “Look closely at the squirrel and focus your eyes on it.”
My gaze falls on the squirrel as I stare a hole right through it. Suddenly, a glowering outline of light begins to emit around the furry critter, separating it from the rest of the scape. Above its head, several lines of text appear in the air.
Squirrel lv. 1
[Threat level: Negligible]
[EP gain: 3 EP]
[Desc]
A small woodland mammal indigenous to most parts of the world.
“Interesting,” I say. “So if I were to shoot that squirrel with a fireball, which I’m not going to because it’s cute, I’d gain 3 EP?”
“Yes, although that’s a pretty negligible amount,” Angel says. “You’d have to kill a copious number of them for any meaningful gains.”
“And I assume the threat level is how dangerous the creature is?” I ask.
“Indeed. It’s a foe's EP rating relative to the average level of all survivors,” Angel says. “Which means that this threat level isn’t indicative of a certain adversary’s threat toward you as an individual. It’s more a general word of caution than a comprehensive gauge of strength. As such, the EP gain is relative to an enemy’s rating.”
“Alright, that’s pretty handy,” I say. “So do all HET have descriptions?”
“Some, but not all,” Angel says. “If a HET has been encountered, the data on it is recorded here. That includes physical attributes, abilities, strengths, weaknesses, and anything else of note. If there is no data on the subject, then this section will remain blank, and the reader will only measure its EP to assign it a threat level and EP gain.”
“I assume this also works on humans,” I say.
“Yes, but not as comprehensively as you’d like,” Angel says. “It will say nothing of their abilities, nor will I be able to inform you about them unless you are neurolinked to them.”
“That seems like a design flaw to me,” I say.
“Perhaps it is, or perhaps there’s another reason it’s structured like this,” Angel says.
“Then maybe I should-” I start, but don’t have time to finish my sentence because I’m interrupted by an ear-piercing scream in the not-so-far distance. Not just any scream, either. It’s Sako.
I take off running in an instant, making sure I tread carefully so I don't make any noise. I’m close; otherwise, her yelp wouldn’t have been so loud. I’m sprinting fast; faster than I could have imagined ever going. Adrenaline is pumping through my veins as awful scenarios begin to pelt my thoughts with thorn-laced bullets.
If something terrible is happening to her now, I fear I don’t yet have the strength to protect her, and all I can do is pray that it’s nothing. That she tripped over a root or scraped her knee.
As I get closer to the camp, my footsteps slow to a jog. I can see Sako ahead, and she is not alone.
I nimbly hide behind a thick oak, peering out of the side. There, I see two men standing over Sako, who’s lying on the ground, her arms in front of her face. It’s not just any two men, either. It’s the guys from the bunker.
My mind falls into utter despair, as I am certain that there’s nothing I can do.