CHAPTER 1 | A VERY SOFT LANDING?
3RD POV
In a frozen desolate wasted land where blizzards happen every time there was suddenly a hole in reality opening and a person falling through it while a person was unaware that a person is going to fall on them.
Date: Terran Year 1093
Location: Northern Ursus Tundra, The Great Icefield POV: ???
The wind didn't just howl; it screamed. It sounded like the dying cries of the thousands we had left behind in the mines and the cities. I pulled my scarf tighter, the fabric stiff with frozen breath, covering everything but my eyes. It was the year 1093. It had been three years since the "Reunion" first whispered the promise of unity, three years of running, fighting, and dying in this white hell. The Imperial Patrols were getting bolder, pushing us deeper into the lifeless zones where even the Originium slugs froze solid.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
My boots broke through the crust of the snow, the sound deafening in the silence "Keep moving," I whispered to myself, the mantra of the tundra. "Stop and you freeze. Freeze and you die." We were scouting ahead of the main column. We had endured the hunger, the rot of our own crystallization, and the cruelty of the non-infected. We walked so that those behind us might live to see a tomorrow where we weren't treated like cattle.
Suddenly, the blizzard seemed to… stutter.
The hair on my arms stood up beneath my thick coat. It wasn't the biting cold—it was static. The air tasted metallic, like blood and ozone, cutting through the smell of frost. I stopped dead, my hand flying to the hilt of my blade. "Contact?" I hissed, scanning the horizon for the black armor of the Emperor's Blades or the glint of an Arts drone. But the horizon was empty. The threat wasn't in front of me.
Hummmmm.
A deep, unnatural vibration rattled my bones, shaking the loose snow from my shoulders. I looked up, squinting against the gray expanse of the sky above me, the clouds too thick to see anything "What in the name of the Holy Spirit..."
Before I could signal a retreat, something was spat out of the clouds.
It wasn't an artillery shell. It wasn't Arts.
It was a man.
He was falling, limbs flailing against the gravity, plummeting straight down with terrifying speed. My instincts, honed by three years of guerrilla warfare, screamed at me to dodge. Move! Roll!
But my legs were frozen, not by fear, but by the sheer absurdity of it. A man falling from the sky in the middle of the Great Icefield? I opened my mouth to shout, but the shadow grew larger, blotting out the swirling light above.
'He's going to hit m—'
POV SWITCH ALEX
Getting sucked into a wormhole was certainly an experience and falling through the sky was not my kind of beaming down and to make things worse the area I was falling through was a God damned frozen waste land. Welp, I guess this is only natural because of the Chaotic nature of the Gacha. Flailing my limbs to slow my fall down I looked down and saw that I'm about to fall on top of a person "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAH LOOK OUT."
The world turned into a blur of white powder and hard impact. Despite the warning scream, physics was faster. My body moved on its own. The moment before contact, my limbs tucked and twisted, instinctively attempting a breakfall roll that I had never learned in my previous life. The [Pugilist] trait was already paying for itself. I slammed into the person, using them as a fleshy, unwilling cushion, before tumbling into the deep snowdrifts.
Momentum carried me forward, tumbling head over heels until I slammed into a buried rock. The impact should have left me gasping, writhing in agony. I felt the throb—a sharp, stinging sensation in my ribs and the biting cold burning my skin—but my mind simply… ignored it.
Feeling up my body I began examining it. Ribs bruised. No fractures. [Master Discipline] at work making me ignore the pain. I stood up, shaking the snow off my shoulders. The freezing wind bit at my exposed skin, but my focus was razor-sharp. I looked back at the crater I had made in the snow. "Oh... crap." The person I had landed on—wrapped in thick, ragged rags—was groaning. They were half-buried in the snow, lying in a position that looked distinctly uncomfortable as I walked over, the snow crunching loudly under my feet.
"Hey," I called out, my voice fighting against the howling wind. "Are you alive? Sorry about the drop-in. Got teleported without my permission you see." The figure stirred. A hand shot out, grasping a rusted blade dropped in the snow. They scrambled back, coughing, eyes wide with shock and fear visible even through their face covering. "What..." the muffled voice croaked, sounding distinctly feminine. "Who are you?"
Welp this is awkward "uh the name's Alex your resident human projectile hehehe sorry about that I was not prepared to get teleported into the sky" I extend my hand out and said "Here let me help you up" the figure looks at my hand with hesitation "Who are you and who sent you!" she said with a growl and she raises her sword and points it at me I put my hands up in surrender "Woah woah lady I told you I got teleported out of nowhere and landed on you, I'm still sorry about that by the way and you look like you need help too so how about it lady" I extend back my hand out she looks at it hesitantly.
[ SILVER ITEM TICKET GAINED! x1 ]
[ ROLLING NOW.... ]
[ [ASTER+ Augmentation Ticket]
|Rare Item|
Halo - A ticket that when ripped, sends the user into a dimension with highly advanced robotic doctors and surgeons who will perform the ASTER procedure on you in order to turn you into a Spartan. This procedure is perfected and will not cause failure regardless of the target's age or condition. This procedure gives a more durable skeleton, enhanced musculature, visual acuity and reflexes with enhanced mental clarity. ]
Well Damm I'm gonna be a spartan I'll use this later turning back to the lady she opened her mouth and said "Get back!"
The words ripped from her throat, raw with panic. She scrambled backward on the snow, her rusted blade trembling not from the cold, but from the sheer adrenaline of having a man fall from the heavens. "Don't touch me! Stay away!" I paused, hand still extended halfway. Okay, Alex, take it slow, I thought. falling out of the sky and falling on someone isn't exactly the best icebreaker heh get it cuz were are in a frozen waste land.
"Look, I'm not with… whoever you think I'm with," I said, keeping my voice level. Thanks to [Master Discipline], my tone was steady, devoid of the shivering or stuttering that the freezing wind should have caused. "I just want to help you up. That was a nasty hit we both took." I took a tentative step forward, lowering my hand slightly to show I wasn't a threat.
"I have some
medical knowledge," I lied smoothly—well, not entirely a lie. With [Expert Chemistry], I figured I could whip up a disinfectant or a painkiller if I found the right moss or rocks. Maybe. "Let me just check if you have any broken bones—" "I said stay back!" she screamed, her eyes darting past me, looking into the whiteout of the blizzard behind my back.
That was when I heard it.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
It wasn't the wind. It was the synchronized, heavy tread of boots on snow. Lots of them Reunion Members. My Pugilist trait flared. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, not from the cold, but from the sudden shift in air pressure. Killing intent. It was surrounding me.
"Contact! We have contact!" a gruff voice roared from the mist
. "Secure the scout! Circle him! Now!" Before I could even lower my arms, shadows detached themselves from the white curtain of the storm. One, two… five… ten. Men and women wrapped in heavy, tattered winter gear, their faces obscured by masks and goggles They moved with the coordination of a wolf pack. Within seconds, the circle closed. I spun around slowly, assessing the situation.
To my left, a large man brandishing a heavy sledgehammer made of scrap metal. To my right, two smaller figures holding crossbows leveled directly at my chest. Behind me, the woman I had crashed into was being pulled to her feet by a comrade, whispering frantically while pointing a shaking finger at me. "Don't move!" the man with the sledgehammer barked, stepping into the inner circle. His mask had a crude red design painted on it—a symbol I recognized from the game lore.
Reunion. "Hands where we can see them! One wrong move and you're a pincushion." I slowly raised my hands above my head, flashing a disarming smile that was probably hidden by the blowing snow.
"Whoa, easy there, fellas," I said, my mind racing. [Master Discipline] kept my heart rate annoyingly calm. A normal person would be hyperventilating, but I was just calculating the velocity of those crossbow bolts. "I come in peace? I'm just a… very lost traveler." "A traveler?" The leader scoffed, stepping closer.
The tip of his hammer hovered inches from my nose. He looked me up and down, taking in my lack of winter gear and the steam rising from my body where the snow was melting against my skin. "In the Great Icefield? Without a coat? Falling from the sky?"
He signaled to the crossbowmen. The tension in the air tightened like a bowstring. "Check him for Arts units. And check him for infection," the leader growled. "If he's an Imperial spy, we gut him here. If he's just crazy… well, we might just gut him anyway to save rations." I looked around the circle of desperate, angry eyes. Ten armed Reunion members against one guy in a t-shirt.
Well, I thought, suppressing a sigh. I really should have used that Spartan ticket.
That's how my first meeting with the Reunion went
SCENE END.
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