Two weeks flew by in a blur of motion, violence, and victory.
Wormhole after wormhole tore open across the city like angry mouths, vomiting out Mutant-Classes in singles, pairs, and even groups of ten and above. The single battles with low-rank Mutant-Class weren’t anything more than warmup, but the group battles against more than five Mutant-Classes at a time were battles—ones Marisol didn’t have to fight alone.
They moved as one unit. They made abandoned roofs their bases and moved from district to district, camping out wherever their quick response would be needed the most. With the Lighthouse Imperators and every other high-rank soldier indisposed by the Insect God wormholes, they were the only team capable of bouncing between the Mutant-Class wormholes and offering reinforcement to the Imperators and Guards stationed around them.
It be a total disaster if multiple Mutant-Class wormholes collapsed at the same time across separate corners of the city, but the Archive’s navigational data was updated every second, and its calculations were immaculate. No two wormholes ever collapsed at the exact same time. At worst, the four of them only had a few minutes’ break before the Archive alerted them to the next collapsing wormholes, but with it calculating the most efficient route towards dealing with the wormholes in sequence…
They charged.
They danced.
They fought.
And by the end of the second week—the beginning of Marisol’s eleventh month since she obtained the Water Strider Class—they were standing in the shadow of the fourth largest wormhole in the city. They were smack dab in the middle of the ruined northeastern residential district. Snowflakes fell gently, blanketing the entire city in soft whites and icy blues, but the air was warm and thick with tension. About a hundred Guards swarmed around this wormhole with makeshift barricades, watchtowers, and outposts erected at the edge. Dozens of anti-leviathan cannons were mounted on buildings and trained on the swirling blue anomaly, their barrels already charged with explosive shells each capable of decimating an S-Rank Giant-Class bug with ease.
With her hands planted on her hips, Marisol looked up at the centre of the giant wormhole. It was ten metres tall, ten metres wide, and the black void on the other end of the portal was swirling with reddish-brown specks of colour. At her Archive’s suggestion, she’d avoided really looking into any of the wormholes so she wouldn’t hurt her eyes or break her brain trying to comprehend the Worm God’s magic, but this the last Mutant-Class wormhole in the entire city. She wanted to stare a little.
Just a little.
“... What’s the rank for this one?” Aidan asked, combing his hair back with his giant pistol shrimp claw as he stood on her left, appraising the wormhole with a raised brow. “This feels like… B-Rank? A-Rank?”
“A-Rank,” Bruno and Helena said at once on her right, also rolling their shoulders, cracking their necks, and clicking their claws to warm themselves up for the inevitable battle.
“It’s just one A-Rank at that,” Marisol added, stretching her waist as she did. “What grade are you guys at now, anyways? Do I really gotta be here? Can’t you deal with this just fine by yourselves?”
Ignoring the wormhole suddenly belching and the Guards shouting commands into the air—the defensive constructs coming alive abruptly—the Imperator siblings looked off to their sides and were quiet for a few seconds. Marisol gave them time to check their status screens. Then they turned back to her and shook their heads as one, sighing in disappointment.
“I’m still only F-Rank Mutant-Class,” Helena grumbled, “even after all the points we got these past two weeks.”
“I’m only E-Rank Mutant-Class,” Aidan added.
“And I’m only E-Rank Mutant-Class as well,” Bruno finished, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Marisol. Do you just have a bigger appetite than all of us? You don’t look like it.”
Marisol shrugged, pulling open her status screen to take a swipe at it.
[Name: Marisol Vellamira]
[Grade: B-Rank Mutant-Class]
[Class: Water Strider]
[Swarmblood Art: Charge Glaives]
[Aura: 11,849]
[Points: 631]
[Strength: 8, Speed: 9 (+1), Toughness: 7 (+1), Dexterity: 7 (+1), Perception: 7 (+1)]
[// MUTATION TREE]
[T1 Mutation | Striding Glaives Lvl. 8
[T2 Mutations | Filtrating Gills Lvl. 6Repelling Hydrospines Lvl. 7
[T3 Mutations | Laminar Apiclaws Lvl. 6Streamlined Wings Lvl. 5Basic Setae Lvl. 2
[T4 Mutations | Spraying Discharge Lvl. 5Basic Sonar Lvl. 4Basic Underchitin Lvl. 5Basic Chitin Lvl. 5
[T5 Mutations | Surfactant Domain | Basic Vision | Rapid Rehydration Lvl. 2Hydrokinetic Redirection Lvl. 4
[// EQUIPPED SWARMSTEEL]
[Ghost Crab Scarf (Grade: F-Rank)(Tou: +1)(Aura: -200]
[Remipede Earrings (Grade: F-Rank)(Per: +1)(Aura: -100)]
[Water Boatmen Bandages (Grade: E-Rank)(Spd: +1)(Dex: +1)(Aura: -400)]
Hunting Mutant-Classes the past two weeks exclusively had given her of points to work with, of course, though she shared most of them with the siblings and any soldier in the vicinity. The truth was, they needed the points more than her. A hundred and fifty points may not be a lot for her anymore, but for a C-Rank Giant-Class Guard, it was enough to unlock a tier three mutation. It was enough for them to pick an Advanced Class and get a much more powerful Art. It could be the difference between life and death.
So, while she hadn’t saved up enough to unlock another tier five mutation, she’d increased her attribute and mutation levels across the board, and now she was graded at B-Rank Mutant-Class. The same grade Reina had been four months ago back when they first descended to Depth Four.
She wasn’t exactly sure if she as strong as Reina had been back then—the grades were just estimations, after all—but with the water boatmen bandages she’d wrapped tightly around her hands, chest, neck, and most everywhere else she didn’t have chitin plates growing over her skin, she feel much stronger than before.
the Archive reminded.
[First Branch Mutation Selection available for T4 Core Mutation ‘Basic Chitin’]
[First Branch Mutation Option: Omnidynamic Chitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates over your skin have become sharper to increase their aero and hydrodynamic properties, allowing you to move even faster. Unlocking this mutation will increase your speed by ten percent]
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
[Second Branch Mutation Option: Reinforced Chitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates over your skin have become tougher, reducing your overall flexibility but providing more external protection against all sorts of attacks. At max level, this mutation will make it so your chitin plates are five times as tough as your toughness level]
[Third Branch Mutation Option: Hollow Chitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates over your skin have become hollow on the inside, allowing them to trap air inside and provide a small amount of thermal insulation]
She glossed over the first set of status screens briefly while the cannons began creaking and groaning on their hinges, swivelling towards the warbling wormhole sitting in the middle of the district square.
[First Branch Mutation Selection available for T4 Core Mutation ‘Basic Underchitin’]
[First Branch Mutation Option: Corrugated Underchitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates under your skin have been corrugated, becoming more flexible and providing a bit more internal protection against blunt-force attacks]
[Second Branch Mutation Option: Hardened Underchitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates under your skin have become tougher, reducing your overall flexibility but providing more internal protection against all sorts of attacks]
[Third Branch Mutation Option: Crystalline Underchitin]
[Brief Description: The chitin plates under your skin have grown thin layers of crystalline material, slightly improving your resistance to elemental attacks such as fire and lightning]
… She felt like laughing as she saw her options.
[Basic Chitin Lvl: 5 → Omnidynamic Chitin Lvl: 5]
[Brief Description: You have grown thin aero and hydrodynamic chitin plates over patches of your skin that are currently one and a half times as tough as your toughness level, increasing your passive movement speed by ten percent. Subsequent levels in this mutation will increase their toughness. At max level, they will be twice as tough as your toughness level]
[Basic Underchitin Lvl: 5 → Crystalline Underchitin Lvl: 5]
[Brief Description: You have grown thin crystalline chitin plates beneath your skin that will significantly increase your endurance in high-pressure underwater environments, while also providing minor resistances to elemental attacks like fire and lightning. Subsequent levels in this mutation will further increase your endurance deep underwater]
While she scratched her forearms and fidgeted where she stood uncomfortably—feeling thin sheets of hidden crystals forming under her skin—she watched as the chitin plates on her forearms, thighs, shoulder blades, and down along her spine sharpened. They became streamlined. Smooth. Glossy black with pinkish-blue streaks. Curious, she swished an arm through the air to feel wind practically sliding off her omnidynamic chitin plates, and she couldn’t help but grin.
Sparks started flying off the edges of the giant blue wormhole, and a low hum started building in her muscles as she dragged one glaive back, getting into a running start.
The wormhole pulsed with a deep, rhythmic thrum. The heartbeat of the colossal A-Rank Mutant-Class was just about to emerge. As the Imperator siblings took a few steps back, a brave Guard with a scar running down his cheek raced towards them. He was mid-sentence, yelling at the four of them to run back where the cannons wouldn’t hit them when Marisol cut him off with a simple question.
“What’s coming outta this one?” she asked.
“... Eyewitnesses spotted an A-Rank Mutant-Class lobster getting sucked into it,” the Guard reported, his voice steady but grim. “This one’s a big one. People are saying it’s ten metres tall. It’ll be tough even for you to kill something of that size, so—”
“It’s okay,” she said, giving him a small smile as she placed her palms on the ground. “I got this.”
The wormhole rumbled again, the sound deep and resonant, and this time, it shook the ground beneath their feet. The Guards shouted, hurrying even faster to adjust their cannons and raising their spike barricades, and for his part, the brave man only gulped and stared at her for a moment longer before running away.
So Marisol rubbed her nose, sniffled once, and started vibrating her repelling hydrospines. The ripples washed away the snow surrounding the wormhole and cleared a straight twenty-metre path to it—perfect for a running start.
She exhaled and stopped breathing as the A-Rank Mutant-Class began to emerge.
The edges of the wormhole warped, twisting in and out as the giant lobster’s head pushed out of the void. It ten metres tall, human-like, and covered in jagged spines that glistened with a venomous sheen. Six massive pincers snapped menacingly, each one large enough to crush an entire cannon. Its two legs moved with unsettling grace for its size. Its killing pressure warmed the air. Thickened it. Darkened it. The Guards immediately roared, their voices a cacophony of commands and encouragements to fire at will—
But, with a deafening, explosive crack beneath her, Marisol surged forward at maximum speed. She used everything. Charge Glaives, air discharge, and she was even holding her breath just to push herself into a fake near-death state, allowing her to push her body past its limits with Steel Charge—and with the Imperator siblings firing a shockwave at her back to push her even , she crossed twenty metres in less than a blink of an eye, launching into the air.
Lightning coursed through her veins as she pressed her glaives together, spinning her whole body like a drill and tearing through hardened shells, muscles, and sinews. A sickening crunch echoed around her as her glaives found their target: the Mutant-Class’ heart, the size of an entire human head.
Then she pierced through it and exploded out the back of its chest, the wormhole it’d emerged from dissipating into the winds.
The lobster’s body spasmed violently, its pincers flailing in a final, desperate attempt to retaliate, but it didn’t seem to realise it was already dead until it looked down at the giant hole in its chest. It let out one last, gurgling roar before collapsing forward, its massive form crumbling to the ground in a heap of shattered chitin and oozing blue blood.
[Objective #68 Completed: Slay the Mutant-Classes across the Whirlpool City]
[Rewards: ~3,500 points and stability across the Whirlpool City]
Marisol landed with a screech of her glaives against the ground, her body trembling as she deactivated all of her mutations. Her muscles stopped tensing, her veins stopped glowing pinkish-blue under her skin. Her lungs burned as she sucked in deep breaths, adrenaline slowly ebbing from her blood, but the Guards standing around the perimeter were still frozen, their cannons trained on the carcass of the giant lobster.
Awe painted their faces as they stared between her and the lobster, but she didn’t exactly feel like addressing them, so she turned to the Imperator siblings sprinting at her from the other side of the carcass instead.
“... High five,” she said tiredly, raising her hand.
Bruno slapped her hand first, his claw trembling from exertion but his expression proud and delighted. Aidan followed with a faint grin, his pale face betraying just how much the past two weeks of exhaustion had caught up to him. Helena was last, her high five accompanied by a mutter, “Show-off.”
Marisol laughed, though it came out more like a wheeze. “And that’s the last Mutant-Class wormhole,” she said, resting her hands on her knees as she tried to stand up straight. “Now… there’s only three left.”
“Thank the Great Makers,” Helena groaned, collapsing onto a nearby chunk of rubble. “Do we get to take a break now, or—”
The ground shook beneath their feet, cutting Helena off mid-sentence.
A low, deep rumble reverberated through the air, growing louder with each passing second. Marisol straightened, her senses on high alert as she scanned their surroundings. The Guards around them were breaking out into a chorus of panicked shouts, their formation unraveling as they scrambled to figure out what was happening, but she closed her eyes for a moment and let rapid rehydration clear her mind, refreshing her senses.
She focused on the wind currents. She listened to the sky. Minor earthquakes weren’t exactly infrequent ever since the breach first started a month ago—and the Archive had explained it was probably because the large number of space-distorting wormholes were destabilising the entire island—but there was no doubt about it. Something was a little off about this one. The usual wind currents felt disrupted, erratic, as if the very air itself was holding its breath.
Two seconds before it actually shot into the sky, her eyes snapped open and she whirled to her right. Then, all of them saw it: a coloured red flare streaking high up into the sky, its vibrant hue cutting through the dim haze hanging above the city.
Her stomach clenched.
“That’s a collapse flare from the northern wormhole,” she muttered. “As predicted, Rhizocapala’s about to come out.”
“Now?” Bruno grumbled. “I’m all for pushing ourselves, but I hope we could get at least an hour’s break before going over to help.”
“I mean, we don’t exactly to go there right now,” Marisol replied, sighing as she pried her eyes from the coloured flare. If she looked at it any longer, she, too, would probably feel compelled to rush over and offer the Imperators there her assistance. “Maria and Claudia and fifty Imperators are already there, and once the other Lighthouse Imperators are certain the other wormholes won’t be collapsing anytime soon, they’ll rush over to jump Rhizocapala at the same time. Didn’t Andres say they’d wait… one hour? All Maria has to do is hold off Rhizocapala for one hour, and then the other Lighthouse Imperators will all go over and beat the shit out of him, so we can—”
A second red flare interrupted her, shooting up into the sky on her left.
This time, she felt a chill run down her spine as everyone whirled once again, watching the flare with a burst of fiery sparks.
Two collapses. At once.
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
For an entire month, the bugs had staggered out of their wormholes from weakest to strongest, lower rank to higher rank, and in the Worm God’s own words, even just one rank in difference within the Insect God class meant Eurypteria should only be allowed out of her wormhole at least two days after Rhizocapala.
But now of them were coming out at the same time?
the Archive said curtly.
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