Page 35 of Alien Hunter's Prize

I focused my will, visualizing the counter-frequency, drawing on the memory of the Lurker encounter, adapting the principle. I began to hum, pitching my voice as high and pure as I could, shaping the sound, pouring my intent into it, projecting it outwards through my markings. The effort was immense, draining, making my head pound, but I held the note steady, focusing the harmonic resonance directly at the drone.

My markings blazed, projecting the counter-frequency. The drone faltered, its smooth movements becoming slightly erratic as the harmonic interfered with its shield regulation systems. Its shimmering shield flickered visibly, thinning in places.

"Now!" I shouted, pouring every last ounce of energy into the harmonic projection.

Iros, Nirako, and Pravoka reacted instantly, understanding the opportunity. Iros slammed his blade against a metal conduit, creating a piercing ringing tone. Nirako, weaponless but undeterred, struck a crystalline panel with his fist, adding another high-frequency sound. Pravoka fired her projectile weapon again.

My harmonic projection, the Nyxari warriors' sonic attacks, and Pravoka's projectile all converged on the drone simultaneously as its shield flickered and failed under the resonant assault. Iros's heavy bone knife, thrown with unerring accuracy, struck the central lens, shattering it. Pravoka's projectile slammed into the drone's casing just below the damaged lens.

The drone spasmed violently in mid-air, emitting a shower of sparks and a high-pitched electronic shriek of dying machinery. It wobbled precariously, then crashed heavily to the floor,bouncing once before lying still and silent, smoke curling faintly from its cracked casing.

Silence descended again, thick and ringing. We stared at the deactivated drone, chests heaving, the adrenaline slowly beginning to recede.

"Is it... deactivated?" I asked cautiously, pushing myself away from the wall, my legs trembling.

Iros approached the downed drone warily, blade still held ready. He nudged it with his boot. It remained inert. "Yes," he confirmed, relief evident in his voice. He turned to me, his golden eyes intense. "Your insight saved us, Jen. Again."

Nirako retrieved his spear shaft, examining the damage, then looked at me with newfound respect clearly visible in his expression. "The Sound-Seer hears truths we cannot," he stated simply. Pravoka merely grunted, reloading her weapon, but the lingering hostility was gone from her eyes.

We took a moment to catch our breath, the close call leaving us shaken but resolute. The encounter proved the ruins were not just decaying passively; ancient systems were still active, still capable of lethal defense. And it reinforced the terrifying power contained within this facility.

I looked down the central corridor, towards the pulsing red light that marked the path to the core. The greatest danger still lay ahead.

IROS

The silence after the metal device crashed to the floor was heavy, ringing, thick with the smell of ozone and vaporized metal. Smoke curled from the machine's shattered casing. We stood frozen for several heartbeats, chests heaving, the adrenaline slowly receding, leaving behind a residue of fear and grim determination.

Nirako nudged the inert drone with his boot, then spat on the stone floor. "Ancestors' refuse," he muttered, retrieving his spear shaft, the broken bone tip rendering it nearly useless.

Pravoka reloaded her projectile weapon, her face impassive, though the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her tension. Her gaze flicked towards Jen, lingered with something like grudging respect, then returned to scanning the shadowy corridor.

My attention fixed on the central passage ahead. The ominous red glow pulsed from its depths, and the discordant hum intensified, vibrating unpleasantly through my lifelines. The core. The source of the imbalance.

"That path leads to the core," Jen confirmed, her voice slightly breathless but steady. She had recovered quickly, her analytical mind already processing. I sensed her focussharpen, overriding the lingering fear. "The energy signature is... immense. Unstable."

"Are you certain you are unharmed?" I asked, turning to her, needing reassurance. The drone had targeted her specifically. Seeing that energy beam vaporize the panel where she had stood moments before had sent a shard of ice through my veins. The memory of her warmth against me the night before warred violently with the image of her being struck by that lethal force. My protective instincts had surged into something fierce, almost uncontrollable.

"I'm fine," she assured me, meeting my gaze directly. I felt the truth of it, though I also sensed the residual adrenaline, the slight tremor she couldn't completely hide. "Just... reminded of the stakes."

"Indeed." I turned back to the central corridor. "Nirako, Pravoka, stay alert. Jen, stay directly behind me. We proceed with extreme caution."

Taking the lead again, I stepped into the central passage. The change was immediate. The temperature rose sharply, the air growing thick and heavy, making it harder to breathe. The walls radiated heat. The low hum intensified into a palpable vibration that resonated through the floor, up my legs, settling deep in my chest, making my lifelines thrum unpleasantly.

This corridor was clearly a primary artery of the ancient facility. Massive pipes and energy conduits, thick as ancient tree trunks, lined the walls and ceiling. Some were dark and inert, coated in centuries of dust. Others glowed with internal light—a steady, healthy blue-green in some sections, indicating normal function, but more often flickering erratically or pulsing with the dangerous red-orange hue that screamed overload and imminent failure. The floor beneath our feet was constructed from translucent crystalline material, revealing complexcircuitry beneath, much of it dark, but some still carrying faint pulses of energy like dying nerve pathways.

Signs of decay and violent failure were everywhere. Fallen panels littered the floor. Conduits sparked, dripping corrosive fluid that hissed and steamed where it contacted moisture, eating into the stone itself. Sections of the floor had buckled upwards, forced by pressure from below or seismic shifts. Strange crystalline fungi erupted from damaged machinery, pulsing with faint, unhealthy light in shades of sickly green and purple. The sheer scale of the construction felt alien, oppressive, a testament to the immense power—and arrogance—that had built this place before its catastrophic failure.

"The whispers," Jen murmured from behind me, her voice tight. "They're stronger here. Louder."

I strained my senses, but heard only the hum of machinery, the drip of water, the hiss of escaping gas. "What do they say?" I asked.

"Still fragmented," she replied, her concentration palpable. "Not words, exactly. More like... echoes of intent. Anger. Pain. Confusion. Desperation. It feels like the machine itself is... screaming."

Her description resonated with the wrongness I felt through my lifelines, the sense of ancient agony embedded in the very stone. This place was haunted, not by spirits, but by the ghost of its own catastrophic failure.

"Focus on my presence," I instructed, pushing a wave of calm certainty towards her. "Use it as an anchor against the noise." I felt her latch onto it, her energy steadying slightly.

We navigated carefully around a section where the floor had collapsed into darkness below, forcing us onto a narrow ledge along the wall. I tested each handhold, ensuring stability before guiding Jen across. Her hand felt small but steady in mine as I helped her over the worst section. The brief contact senta surge of awareness through me, a reminder of the intimacy we now shared, strangely grounding even in this technological nightmare.

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