First Light of a New Age

Chapter 183: Celestial Uranium

Second Civilization Zone, South America, Argentina, In the Southern Coast of Argentina.

4th Year of the New Age, Friday, 1st Week, 10th Month of The Father.

It is now midnight, and the Great Northern Ocean, which just hours ago had been boiling with nuclear explosions and monstrous rage, was now peaceful.

The Austronesian Liberation Navy began making landfall on the devastated coast of Argentina and turned the blackened beach into a temporary base with cranes, landing craft, and flattened tents forming a line between sea and scorched dunes.

The sand itself was now blanked and glassy where the blast heat had melted it, and littered with molten sand caused by the nuclear explosions. Each ocean wave that lapped the shore hissed against that melted lip and left behind a thin oily smear that caught the light like spilled mercury. 

Beyond that ruined beach, the people on the base could still see the massive corpse of the Octopus in the steaming water. The creature’s size was so incomprehensible that even the largest ship in the fleet, the ALN Bakunawa, looked like a toy next to it. 

Its tentacles stretched for kilometers, strangling over dunes and rocky promontories. 

The carcass gave off an unbearable stench that clawed at throats and made masks fog with every breath, but despite the horror and the gagging smell, no one could look away as they watched with fantasied horror at the huge dark lump of flesh that gave off an overpowering stench. 

Most were impressed by the sheer size of the monster as they nimbly climbed up their ships' masts to gain a better view of just how deep that black mass went.

Teams of scientists and technicians in yellow biohazard suits moved across the beast’s surface, setting up instrument racks, carrying crates stamped with hazard symbols, and setting up tripod-mounted mana sensors whose LEDs blinked as they collected readings and record measurements. 

Engineers, meanwhile, rolled out containment nets and sealed crates to collect samples. 

Where the hide seemed thickest, a portable mana drill began spitting steam and threads of glowing residue as it bit into rubbery flesh, while the devices logged off readings, and every so often someone would shout numbers across the steam-clouded deck.

Marines, meanwhile, were standing guard nearby on the high ground, readying their guns and were keeping watch for any surviving sea creatures, while small patrol craft idled close to shore with their engines tick-ticking as they kept watch for survivors or smaller predators drawn by the carcass. 

Captain Rojas was standing alone on a hill overlooking the scene with his coat fluttering in the cold wind. He was silent with a paper cup of coffee and warmed his gloved hands but did little to take the edge off his exhaustion, watching as cranes and crawler-vehicles pick their way over the Octopus's bulk like ants dissecting a fallen god. 

His face had the calm of habit, but the deep lines around his eyes spoke of sleepless nights and too many funerals. He had paid for victory in blood as half his fleet was gone, and 2000 souls unaccounted for.

Down below, a cluster of scientists gathered around a large wound in the monster’s flesh. Steam rose from the exposed tissue where a portable mana drill was cutting through the thick rubbery hide.

“Careful with that sample!” shouted Dr. Anselmo, a middle-aged scientist with graying hair, as he directed the operation but his voice was muffled by the respirator on his suit. “Radiation levels are fluctuating near the mana glands! Don’t get too close to the nerve clusters!”

Beside him was an elven scholar, who is tall and slender even inside the cumbersome biohazard gear. 

His name was Arannis Velorin, one of the elven researchers sent by Queen Melian to cooperate with the Empire’s science division. His pale green eyes flashed with a mix of scholarly curiosity and genuine dread as he leaned in to peer at the exposed tissue.