The labyrinth of rocks gradually gave way to dunes of fine sand that seemed to ripple under the silvery glow of the moon. The wind lessened in intensity, transforming into a dry breeze that carried the metallic smell of dust and the relentless cold of the desert.
They walked in silence for almost two hours. Hanna stayed a few steps ahead, her body moving with an unsettling fluidity, like a nocturnal predator that didn't need light to hunt. She stopped periodically, crouching to touch the sand or listen to the wind, checking for any vibrations in the ground that might indicate vehicles or patrols in the distance.
Arthur followed close behind. Thanks to his new physical constitution and survival skills, his steps were light, leaving no deep or unnecessary tracks. He glanced at the girl. Although she still maintained an impenetrable barrier of distrust, the murderous rigidity in her shoulders had lessened somewhat. She no longer looked back every five seconds to check if he would draw a weapon; She focused entirely on the path ahead, implicitly trusting the rear he protected.
“There’s an abandoned maintenance road about three kilometers to the south,” Arthur said softly, breaking the silence without startle. His voice sounded firm, clear enough for her to hear, but muffled by the rocks so as not to echo. “If Marissa’s jeeps try to cut through the desert, they’ll use this parallel route to avoid the quagmire of the high dunes.”
Hanna stopped abruptly. She turned her face, her blue eyes reflecting the moonlight as she assessed the information. There was no verbal thanks—her childhood in the deep forests and the brutal training of Project Utrax didn’t include social formalities. But she nodded, a short, precise agreement, before pointing to a higher rock formation that offered cover against any aerial view.
“Up there. Observation point,” she said, her voice rough and her accent subtly heavy.
It was the first complete sentence she had spoken to him since they left the base.
As they climbed the steep rocks to find temporary shelter where they could rest before dawn, Arthur felt a slight vibration in his mind. A discreet, translucent interface expanded before his eyes, summarizing all the progress he had made since the chaos at Camp G had begun.
[HOST STATUS - UPDATED] Name: Arthur Vance Level: 4 (+3) Class: Ex-Guard / Tactical Level Survivor
[ATTRIBUTES]
Strength: C+ (35)
Agility: B- (48) (Lesser Superhuman Reaction Speed)
Stamina: C (30)
Perception: C+ (37)
Intelligence: D- (15)
[ACTIVE AND PASSIVE ABILITIES]
Firearms Mastery (Rank C-): Lethal efficiency in medium and short-range combat, predictive aim, and advanced tactical handling.
Military Hand-to-Hand Combat (Rank D+): Mastery of immobilization techniques, critical strikes, and efficient use of body weight.
Extreme Survival (Rank D): Resistance to severe fatigue, arid climates, and prolonged deprivation.
Tactical Empathy / Behavior Reading (Rank D-): Refined ability to interpret microexpressions, body language, and hostile intentions without supernatural aid.
[INNABISH TALENT]
Multiplier 100x (Active): Multiplies all experience, proficiency, and gains obtained by the host by one hundred.
[CURRENT STATE]
Ready for the next confrontation. The hunt for Marissa Wiegler is only beginning.
Arthur closed the panel with a blink of an eye and settled into the shadows of the rock, watching Hanna guard the entrance to the refuge with deadly patience. The chasm between the frail guard he was and the man he had become was colossal. And with Hanna by his side, the whole world would soon discover the price of trying to hunt them.