Alexandra looked over the equipment they’d prepared for the drop and slowly rubbed her forehead.
Three grenades per person.
A bottle of hemostatic spray.
An oral antidote.
A roll of bandages.
A disposable malicious amulet.
That was basically it.
She mentally accessed the extradimensional storage contained within the subspace backpack strapped to her shoulders.
A grenade appeared directly in her hand.
She turned it over, testing its weight, then mentally returned it to the backpack’s subspace storage, letting it vanish back into inventory.
“Basically, everyone carries three grenades, a bottle of hemostatic first-aid spray, an oral antidote, a roll of high-efficiency bandages, and a disposable malicious amulet,” Alexandra said, glancing around at the small cluster of teammates.
“God, I really have to thank Zha; getting all that would cost over a hundred reward points. We’d never pull that off if we had to exchange for it ourselves.”
She waited, looking from Zha to Lan and finally to Xiaoyi.
Nobody said anything.
Alexandra stared at them for another second.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.
She dropped her hand to her side.
“Fine. I only need a malicious amulet. Tell me, did any of you actually exchange for weapons? Or do you think you can clear this without relying on gear?”
“Uh…”
It turned out the blockheads really hadn’t purchased any hardware.
“Fine,” Alexandra sighed, throwing her hands up.
“At least grab two close-quarters weapons. Something you can actually defend yourself with. And get a handgun while you’re at it. The standard Desert Eagle runs ten points, and a hundred rounds of ammo cost another ten. Twenty points shouldn’t break the bank, right?”
The moment she finished speaking, Zha and the others bolted toward the base of the towering God sphere to spend their points.
Alexandra watched them go, shaking her head.
Zha was already tapping frantically at the sphere interface, muttering numbers under his breath, while Lan and Xiaoyi crowded in behind him.
Jie gave her an amused look from the sidelines, leaning against a support strut.
“You sound like you’ve been doing this for years.”
“I’ve been here long enough to know that dying because you forgot to buy a gun would be really embarrassing,” Alexandra muttered.
Several minutes later, Zha hurried back over with a Desert Eagle in one hand and a long blade strapped to his side, offering an earnest wave of thanks.
Lan had exchanged her points for an MP5 submachine gun and several spare magazines, checking the weapon before slinging it over her shoulder.
Alexandra watched Xiaoyi’s hands moving fast as he checked his gear—he had grabbed a Beretta 92F pistol, but hadn’t bothered picking up extra ammunition.
No spare magazines.
Seriously?
He saved those ten points somewhere, didn’t he?
Cheap little bastard probably figured he could get away with relying on infinite ammo.
And he nearly got himself killed pulling that stunt.
If I hadn’t warned him, two grenades and a pistol would’ve been a really fucking stupid way to go into this.
Wait.
Didn’t he originally bite the dust in this exact movie anyway?
“Whatever. Should’ve grabbed extra, but don’t lose the gun,” she said, turning her attention back to the rest of the supplies.
Then another thought hit her.
“By the way, did any of you pack food?”
Lan blinked.
Zha stopped inspecting his new holster.
Xiaoyi suddenly looked very interested in the texture of the platform flooring beneath his boots.
Alexandra slowly closed her eyes.
“We completely overlooked all of that. Why didn’t you warn us earlier?” Jie asked with a wry, helpless smile.
Alexandra stared at him.
“How was I supposed to know you guys were going to forget food?” She shook her head with a heavy sigh.
“Do I seriously have to remind everyone about every basic survival detail? We’re about to drop into a closed environment with unknown hazards, and nobody thought about calories?”
“We’ll get some right now,” Zha said, turning on his heel and sprinting back to the sphere before Alexandra could launch into a full lecture.
While Zha frantically traded points for ration bars and water flasks, Alexandra checked her own equipment one last time.
The white tactical suit fit smoothly against her body, the subspace backpack was secure across her shoulders, and the sword sat firm against her back.
Ivory and Ebody rested close against her thighs.
She glanced toward the open space beside her.
Tell Six to watch the others’ blind spots.
The thought came automatically.
…Right.
She’s not coming.
She looked away.
Fuck.
I’ve gotten way too used to having her around.
Not just for fighting.
Not just because Six could handle almost anything I threw at her.
Just…
Six being there.
Then the memory of their conversation from the previous evening came back.
Acid blood.
Expensive metal.
Damage that might be impossible to repair here.
And a cramped space full of vents where something could splash her with enough acid to eat half her body.
Yeah.
No.
Keeping Six out of this drop was definitely the right call.
Zha hurried back, dumping a handful of nutrient packs and a couple of plastic canteens into his duffel bag with a clatter.
Jie stepped forward and called everyone together before the drop.
“Even though we only had a few days, we drilled the basics as much as possible,” Jie said, his expression turning grave.
“Bottom line for horror flicks: expect anything. We have zero safety net here, so you need to be endlessly cautious. Also… help your teammates when you can, but the second someone compromises the safety of the entire group, eliminate them!”
Lan and Xiaoyi exchanged uneasy looks.
Neither seemed comfortable with that last part.
Zha simply nodded, his jaw tightening.
Alexandra offered a casual shrug.
“No problem.”
Zha looked back toward the sphere, shifting his grip on his new gear.
“How do we get into the movie? Do we just suddenly vanish out of nowhere?”
Jie shook his head.
“No. When the time hits, twenty pillars of light descend from the God sphere. You just need to step into one. The transfer always happens right around this window.”
The next several minutes dragged on in a tense, restless silence.
Nobody spoke much, the weight of what was coming pressing down on the platform.
Zha double-checked the slide of his Desert Eagle, clicking the safety on and off with soft, repetitive clicks.
Lan adjusted the MP5 sling over her shoulder, testing how easily she could bring the muzzle up.
Xiaoyi checked his pockets again, patting down his jacket with frantic little taps, apparently unwilling to trust that he’d actually remembered where he’d put everything.
Alexandra rolled her shoulders and adjusted the backpack strap.
The sword shifted against her back before settling again.
Good.
She kept her eyes on the massive central sphere as the light inside it began to shift and swell, throwing long shadows across the concrete.
Three viewings of Alien, and Six still wasn’t satisfied.
Zombies.
Mutants.
Creatures crawling through vents.
Things that looked human until they got close enough to eat you.
At one point during the marathon, Alexandra had finally groaned and leaned back from the screen.
“Okay, fine. I get the point. Just because we’re doing Alien doesn’t mean everything has to go exactly like the movie. If God wants to change something, it’ll change something. I’m not betting my life on the movie staying the same.”
Six had simply smiled.
“Watch another one.”
Alexandra had stared at her.
“I think I’ve suffered enough.”
“Then you won’t mind watching one more.”
I really did know how to pick my friends.
“Thirty seconds to entry. Transfer target locked. Alien initial transmission starting…”
The first pillar of white light slammed down onto the platform, followed by a second, then a third, until twenty distinct columns stood across the cavernous space.
Alexandra didn’t hesitate.
She stepped into the nearest pillar of light.
The moment she crossed the threshold, all physical weight vanished.
Her stomach lurched violently despite the complete lack of physical motion, and the roar of the cavern stretched out into a thin, vibrating whine before the white light swallowed everything whole.
Alexandra drifted somewhere between wakefulness and sleep until the sensation of a floor beneath her snapped her fully awake.
The metal beneath her palms was ice-cold and ridged with industrial plating.
A low, constant mechanical vibration hummed through the deck plates, accompanied by the faint, rhythmic pulse of dim emergency lighting overhead.
The air smelled of old metal, grease, and recycled air.
This wasn’t the vast cavern of God’s Dimension.
The compartment was cramped, dim, and enclosed on every side.
Instinct took over before her brain fully caught up.
Alexandra pushed herself up onto her hands and knees and immediately checked her status.
The sword was still there.
So were Ivory and Ebody.
Her white tactical suit hadn’t been torn or damaged by the transfer.
She summoned a grenade into her palm, checked the safety, and sent it away again.
Hahaha!
I am a total genius for planning ahead—my equipment is completely corrosion-resistant!
Oh, I am brilliant!~~~♪
She chuckled to herself in triumph, shifting onto her heels, only to realize the rest of the group was staring at her in absolute, deadpan silence.
She blinked back the grin and cleared her throat, looking around the compartment.
There were people everywhere.
Too many people.
Alexandra’s eyes tracked across the floor.
She spotted Jie climbing to his feet near the far bulkhead.
Zha was pushing himself up close by, rubbing the back of his neck.
Lan and Xiaoyi were stirring a few feet away.
And then there were the others.
Faces she didn’t recognize.
Bodies scattered across the metal decking in clumps and pairs.
She counted them once.
Then again, because the number didn’t make sense.
Sixteen.
Sixteen.
Oh, fuck.
Her stomach gave an uncomfortable lurch that had nothing to do with the transfer.
Jie was already climbing fully upright, the color draining from his face under the amber emergency strips.
“This is bad,” Jie muttered, his voice tight and ragged.
“Sixteen people—a difficulty spike like this never happens in a science-fiction horror like Alien. The God sphere must have boosted the parameters. We are in serious trouble.”
He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on, looking between Zha, Alexandra, and the rest of the original team.
“I’ve never encountered a scaling like this. During my very first run, veterans told me that under certain conditions, the God sphere alters the plot and difficulty entirely. Anything can happen. These variants usually end with a total team wipe, though clearing them bags a massive payout. Check your wristwatches.”
Alexandra flipped her wrist over and scanned the glowing display.
Sixteen names.
Her stomach dropped.
“Wait, you’ve got to be kidding. Are you reading that right?” she muttered, squinting at the text.
“Look for yourself.”
Alexandra looked down again.
Phew, keeping Six out of this drop was definitely the right call.
Then she found the objective.
“Let’s see here: eliminate the Xenomorph, reward every team member with one thousand points plus one D-rank side quest. Wait, does that mean if I solo one without outside help, everyone—including me—gets a D-rank and a thousand points?”
“No clue,” Jie grunted, his eyes darting across the shadows of the compartment as other figures began to groan and sit up around them.
“How many Xenomorphs are we dealing with?”
“Just one. I don’t make mistakes on details like that,” a calm, steady voice chimed in from across the compartment.
Alexandra blinked and glanced over.
At first glance, the guy looked entirely unremarkable—the sort of face you would lose in a crowd behind a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.
But there was something about the way he moved that caught her attention.
He wasn’t built like Zha, yet he carried himself like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
More importantly, he was already awake and looking around while several of the stronger-looking people were still sprawled across the floor.
He hadn’t panicked.
Hadn’t even looked particularly surprised.
Alexandra narrowed her eyes.
Okay.
That guy’s different.
“Military?” she asked.
The bespectacled man gave a single, crisp nod.
“Chu Xuan, Senior Colonel.”
“Alexandra. This is Zheng Zha, Zhan Lan, Li Xiaoyi, and Zhang Jie; we’re a team.” She extended a hand in a polite, steady greeting.
“Are you familiar with the movie Alien?”
“Yes.”
“Mind breaking down the plot of Alien for us?” Zha requested, pulling himself up from the floor and dusting off his knees.
“Certainly,” Chu Xuan replied, adjusting his glasses.
“The Nostromo is a commercial towing vessel returning to Earth when its computer detects an unidentified transmission from an unexplored location.”
“LV-426,” Alexandra added.
Chu Xuan looked at her.
“Correct. The crew is awakened because the ship’s protocol requires them to investigate signals that might originate from an intelligent civilization. They are therefore required to divert to LV-426 and investigate the source.”
Alexandra folded her arms.
Three viewings of Alien.
By the end of the third viewing, I had the important corridors, vents, access points, and maintenance passages down well enough.
Six made me watch the damn movie three times, and now I’m really glad she did.
Xuan continued.
“The crew discovers a large derelict spacecraft on the surface. Inside, they find the remains of a gigantic extraterrestrial pilot.”
“The Space Jockey,” Alexandra said.
“Yes. Its cause of death is unknown.”
Alexandra nodded.
“The movie never explains what happened to it.”
“Correct.” Xuan went on.
“The crew also discovers a chamber containing numerous organic eggs. Kane approaches one of them, and the egg opens. An organism emerges and attaches itself to his face.”
“Facehugger,” Alexandra supplied.
Xuan gave her another brief glance.
“That is the common designation.”
“Because apparently someone had to give it a name.”
Zha gave her a sideways look, but Alexandra ignored him.
“The organism is extremely difficult to remove,” Xuan said.
“Its blood is highly corrosive, making attempts to cut or injure it dangerous to the host and anyone nearby.”
At least the material on my sword could handle corrosive blood without turning into scrap metal.
Thank God I brought this one.
Xuan paused briefly, then pressed on.
“Eventually, however, it detaches from Kane and dies. The crew believes the danger has passed.”
“It hasn’t,” Alexandra said.
“No.” Xuan’s voice remained completely calm.
“The organism has already implanted another life-form inside Kane. He initially appears normal, but the creature develops within his body. During a meal with the rest of the crew, it emerges violently through his chest.”
Lan grimaced.
Yeah.
That scene definitely isn’t getting any less disgusting after multiple viewings.
“The creature is initially small and vulnerable,” Xuan continued.
“It escapes into the Nostromo and begins feeding. As it develops, it becomes larger, faster, stronger, and increasingly difficult to kill.”
“And that’s when it starts using the ship against them,” Alexandra added.
“The corridors, vents, maintenance areas…”
She stopped.
Okay.
This is the important part.
Vents.
Maintenance passages.
Tight corridors.
Places where something that big can disappear and come back whenever it wants.
Yeah.
Fuck.
Xuan nodded.
“The ship’s confined layout provides it with numerous places to hide. The adult Xenomorph possesses considerable physical strength and speed, a highly durable outer body, and corrosive blood. Conventional weapons are of limited value against it.”
Xuan continued.
“The Xenomorph hunts the crew one by one as it reaches full maturity. Eventually, the survivors understand that the transmission which brought them to the derelict was not a distress call.”
“A warning,” Alexandra said.
“A warning,” Xuan confirmed.
“The message was effectively telling anyone who received it to stay away from the site.”
He paused.
“Following that—”
“Alright, save the ghost stories for later!” someone shouted from across the compartment.
“Will someone tell me what the hell kind of place this is?!”