Three kilometers in the dense, alien forest was an obstacle course. Thorned vines thick as his arm snaked across the path, and the ground was a treacherous mix of spongy moss and tangled roots. Haruto moved with a speed that defied the terrain, his augmented physique pushing through the undergrowth. Akari fed him the most efficient route, a shimmering line in his mind's eye that skirted the worst of the obstacles.
The sounds of battle reached him before he saw it: the monstrous roars of an inhuman predator, the sharp, metallic clang of steel on something hard, and the desperate, ragged breaths of a struggling fighter.
He broke through a final wall of broad, sapphire-colored leaves into a scene of carnage. It was a small clearing, dominated by the gnarled roots of another colossal tree. In the center, a lone figure stood against three hulking beasts. They were the "Grayha" from the synopsis—bipedal monstrosities with tough, slate-gray hides, powerful hind legs, and long, muscular arms that ended in scythe-like claws. Their heads were all teeth and fury, a gaping maw filled with needle-sharp fangs.
The figure was a young woman, clad in a torn and bloodied leather tunic over a fine, but now ruined, dress. She wielded a longsword with a grace that spoke of formal training, her silver hair matted with sweat and dirt. But she was faltering. Her left arm hung limp at her side, clearly broken, and a deep gash on her leg bled freely, staining the ground crimson.
She parried a sweeping claw from one Grayha, the impact sending a jarring shock through her body. She stumbled back, her sword tip wavering. The other two beasts circled, cutting off any chance of escape. They were toying with her, enjoying the hunt.
Haruto didn't hesitate. He raised his plasma pistol, his targeting reticle locking onto the closest Grayha.
A nearly silent phut was the only sound his weapon made. A pencil-thin beam of incandescent energy crossed the clearing and cored straight through the Grayha's skull. The creature's roar died in its throat, and it collapsed in a heap, its brain flash-boiled.
The sudden, silent death of their packmate stunned the remaining two Grayha. The young woman stared, her eyes wide with disbelief, searching for the source of her salvation. The beasts roared in fury and confusion, their heads snapping around. One of them spotted him at the edge of the clearing and charged, its claws extended.
It was impossibly fast, covering twenty meters in the blink of an eye. For a normal human, it would have been a fatal rush. For Haruto, it was happening in slow motion. He let it come, and at the last possible second, he sidestepped, the beast's claws scything through the air where he had been. He pressed the muzzle of his pistol against the back of its thick neck and fired. The Grayha's head simply vanished in a superheated spray of gore, its body skidding to a halt in the dirt.
The final beast, its pack instincts screaming at it that it was facing an apex predator far beyond its comprehension, let out a terrified howl. It turned to flee, but Haruto was already raising his pistol. Another silent bolt of plasma struck it between the shoulder blades, and it fell, twitching once before lying still.
The entire engagement had lasted less than ten seconds.
Silence descended on the clearing, broken only by the drip of blood and Haruto's own steady breathing. He holstered his pistol and began to walk forward, his boots crunching on the fallen leaves.
The silver-haired woman stared at him, her sword held loosely in her one good hand. Her expression was a mixture of awe, fear, and profound confusion. She saw a man in a strange, form-fitting black uniform emerge from the shadows, a man who had killed three Grayha with silent flashes of light from a small, metallic wand.
She tried to speak, to ask who—or what—he was, but the adrenaline that had kept her fighting faded, and the agony of her wounds crashed over her. Her vision swam, the world tilting on its axis. Her sword fell from her grasp with a soft thud, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious.
Haruto broke into a run, closing the final distance in seconds. He knelt beside her, his gloved fingers immediately searching for a pulse at her neck. It was there, but it was weak and thready.
**
Haruto looked at the unconscious woman, then at the silent, alien forest around them. He was a soldier, not a doctor. But in his blood, he carried the most advanced medical technology humanity had ever conceived.
He had a choice to make.