The heavy weapons squad switched their explosive rifles to burst mode, while the assault squad's fingers hovered over the triggers of their chainswords. Team Τ (Theta) had discovered traces of human presence—a situation already relayed up the command chain. The directive from the Lord himself was clear: maintain distance from the entity that left those traces.
Though Solomon had repeatedly assured Coulson and Fitz that the parasite's infection wasn't instantaneous, the reality was that no one could say for certain whether any surviving lifeforms on this planet were already infected. While he could monitor the location of the main cluster of hostile intent, those were only the collective consciousnesses of the parasite horde. Scattered nano-parasites had no sentience; not even the most powerful spellcaster could detect them through psychic probing. For intelligent beings, only extremely deep mind scans or advanced medical equipment could determine whether a nano-parasite had attached itself to the brainstem.
These were procedures Team Τ couldn't perform. Basic identification methods were useless. Their task was to continue tracking and wait for the command unit to arrive. Under centralized coordination, other squads were also being redirected to converge from different angles and initiate a wide-scale pincer maneuver.
"Did we lose them?" Simmons gasped. She'd wanted to stop and set up a simple mine using bullets, but Will had firmly vetoed the idea. He'd handed her the pistol and led the way, using his familiarity with the terrain to avoid the plains and stay out of direct sight.
"Definitely not," Will replied. He was lying on a heavily eroded shale slab, carefully watching the distant terrain through binoculars. The silhouettes cast by distant mountains were reduced to indistinct blurs under the blue moonlight. He could barely make out a few flickering shadows—nothing more.
"We left footprints. At this rate, they'll catch up soon."
"Maybe they're SHIELD," Simmons said, her voice tinged with hope and frustration. "Can't we just make contact? Maybe they're here to find me!" It wasn't the first time she brought this up, and she already knew exactly how Will would respond.
"Any insignias? Like an eagle?" she added.
"Can't make it out. But we can't take that risk, Simmons," Will said sternly. "What if they're with the same NASA team that dumped me here? If that's the case, we're screwed."
Simmons nodded. What he said matched her own suspicions.
If the creature Will had described really existed, then his paranoia toward outsiders was understandable. In fact, he had observed Simmons for a long time before helping her—only after being sure she posed no threat did he bring her to the cave. This planet had no morality, no laws—only life and death, kill or be killed. Survival stripped humans back to their most primal instincts. She didn't blame Will for his caution, but she also felt that rescue was so close now. There was no need to act like someone suffering from severe PTSD.
"That stone… it's in my team's hands now."
"Are you sure it's still with them after you got here?" Will narrowed his eyes, trying to distinguish the shadows. "I want to believe they're your friends too, but let's wait until we can observe them from a safe location before we decide. Sound good, Jemma?"
He turned around—only to find Simmons had vanished. Alarmed, he sprang to his feet and spotted her circling the rock formation, running toward the darkened ridge beyond, waving her dirty scarf.
"Shit!" Will leapt off the rock in pursuit.
A sudden wave of dizziness hit him. His vision went dark, flashes of pink and blue streaked across his retinas. He collapsed face-first onto the jagged stones of the desert floor, scraping his forehead and palms. Thick blood slowly oozed from the wounds. Ever since rescuing Simmons, he had quietly reduced his own rations to ensure she had enough to eat—out of chivalry. The resulting low blood sugar and years of malnutrition were taking their toll.
Pain snapped him out of the dizziness. He stared at the bleeding wounds and instantly realized how bad this was.
He knew all too well what bleeding meant on this planet. The story he'd told Simmons was completely true: the creature was acutely sensitive to the scent of blood. The reason it once lingered near the cave entrance was because Will had injured his knee during a water search mission. It had smelled him.
"Get back here now!" he shouted frantically. But Simmons didn't listen. In her mind, those were SHIELD's rescue teams—sent by Coulson to bring her home. They had to have a way off this planet. Will could only limp after her, one leg dragging behind.
Far away, the archmage raised his head—sensing a shift in the malice.
What had previously drifted aimlessly with the upper-atmosphere sandstorm now surged with purpose. The near-orbital dust cloud suddenly changed direction, hurtling toward Team Τ's position. He immediately relayed the signal through the command chain and cast a wide-area acceleration spell, doubling the movement speed of all nearby troops.
There was no more time to hunt for Leopold Fitz. That squirrel-brained fool needed to survive on his own for now. All Solomon wanted was to kill that damn parasite as soon as possible—but his gunships and helicarrier couldn't be deployed here. He had no access to real firepower. Which meant he had to make up for it with his own arcane strength.
He began casting a massive spell—one that could stand against the sandstorm carrying the parasite.
"Move faster, girls. We may be facing that creature head-on."
Back on Earth, chaos reigned in the operating corridor.
"We need to move faster or Coulson won't make it!" Mike barked, overseeing the blood plasma delivery. "Daisy, get the automated surgical unit in here now! And make sure they're sterilized! Coulson won't survive an infection!"
"Stop rushing me! There's blood everywhere—I can't even keep up with the suction!" Barbara Morse yelled. She didn't even glance at Skye. Coulson was already on the table, but no one knew how many arteries had been nicked by the shrapnel. Emergency pre-op scans could only be done visually.
To prevent further fragment movement, the engineers of the Immortal City had provided a high-powered electromagnet—reportedly the same type used during Tony Stark's arc reactor removal surgery.
The plan was to lower the magnet's intensity so the automated surgery bot could proceed. But first, Barbara needed to locate the damn artery.
"It's too deep!" she hissed, motioning for the assistant to wipe her sweat. "Tell Mike to hold on—we need more plasma!"
(End of Chapter)
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