Terra Preta

Alliance

Orion's every muscle ached, but beneath the soreness pulsed an undercurrent of strength—a newfound power he could almost feel humming within his veins, like an aftertaste of electricity. The Dreamweaver session had ended abruptly, leaving him suspended between exhaustion and exhilaration. And while it was just a simulation, every cut, every dodge, and every parry had felt painfully, undeniably real.

"Simulation results indicate significant adaptation," the System droned in his mind, its clinical voice pulling him from his thoughts. "Projected skill progression: 3.7%."

"Three point seven percent?" Orion muttered, eyebrows raised. "From one session?"

"Yes," the voice continued. "Previous data would suggest a growth rate of 0.2%."

"Three point five percent increase?" Orion muttered, suspicion gnawing at him. "That shouldn't be possible."

Was this evolution a gift or a curse? A path to power, or a tool for someone else's agenda? He couldn't shake the feeling that he was a pawn in a game far larger than he understood.

With no answers, he brushed aside the surge of questions, strapping his sword before making his way through the dawn-lit camp. The air was thick, a hazy fog swirling over the dewy grass, adding to his already surreal mood. Around him, the sounds of soldiers stirring and clanking metal echoed across the quiet encampment as they prepared for another march into Hive territory.

Just then, he caught sight of Marlow, his silhouette sharp against the morning fog, his stance as unwavering as stone. He was speaking with Ren and Anya, their expressions stern, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"Orion," Marlow called, noticing him approach. "You look... alive. I expected you'd be flat out after yesterday."

"Alive, yes, but I feel like I just crawled out of my own grave," he replied, trying to keep his tone light.

"Heard you were looking for me yesterday," Marlow said, a sly grin spreading across his face. He leaned against the wall, casually crossing his arms. "Missed me already?"

Orion hesitated, unsure how much he should disclose. The experience was vivid, too real to be ordinary.

"The attack on the army... it was a orchestrated by a group called the Hive," he finally revealed, his voice heavy with the implication. "They're more involved than we thought."

"How did you know about the Hive?" Marlow asked, his voice sharp with suspicion. "And what makes you think they're behind this?"

"I fought with one them," he said, choosing his words carefully. "During the fight with the Juggernaut. There was a figure controlling it, someone who claimed to be a member of the Hive."

Orion looked at him, his gaze unwavering. "I know it sounds crazy, but I believe the Hive is the real enemy. They're the ones we need to stop."

A heavy silence stretched a bit too long. The weight of his words hung in the air, the implications sinking in.

Marlow was the first to break the silence. "If what you're saying is true... then we're facing something far bigger than we ever imagined."

Orion nodded in agreement. "They'll have resources we don't, intel, maybe even weapons that could be effective against the Hive." He paused, a thought striking him. "But how do we get a message to them?"

Marlow spoke up, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. "We have established an emergency contact with them."

A wave of relief washed over Orion. "That's good news! Can we contact them now?"

"We need to set a meeting," Marlow cautioned, "and it's not easy. The contact is risky, and we can't be sure who else might be listening." He looked around at the group, his gaze settling on Orion. "We need to choose a small team to make the journey."