CHAPTER-IV
"Kyle, it's me, Charles! Are you there? Answer me!" The voice crackled through the radio, calling out to Kyle.
"Charles!? Yes, it's Kyle. How are things up there?" Kyle replied.
"Thank God. Right after you left, we had to suddenly shut down all our signal transmitters. They're back online now."
"Why did you do that?"
"It turns out radio signals can lure the Symbiotes. We were nearly killed by a Sky Piercher attack."
Charles then asked about Dianne, and she responded with sheer joy. They spent several minutes talking to ease the longing for home. Kyle and Dianne looked genuinely happy to speak with someone they knew again. They discussed everything—how they slept, whether they had enough to eat, and if the Earth felt safe yet. Eventually, Kyle shifted to a serious tone. After all, they hadn't descended to Earth just to leave everyone behind on Olympus; they were there to find a way to make the planet habitable again. Charles was shocked to hear Kyle's report about the survivors in that hellscape—people who had established an organized governance within a small village. It was good news, though few on high would care, considering those two hundred villagers were immune to the virus and only had to worry about finding food that wasn't toxic.
Charles, however, had news of his own that was equally vital. It promised to make Kyle and Dianne's journey even more arduous. Satellite imagery had detected strange, blood-red structures towering into the sky at several points across the globe, including Moscow, New York, and Washington. The scientists on Olympus dubbed them "Arkae Towers." These towers emitted massive amounts of energy from an unknown source. Kyle and Dianne were tasked with investigating the nearest one. As soon as Charles finished delivering the briefing, he hurriedly signed off, fearing they would be caught by the high-ranking officials.
Without a second thought, Kyle and Dianne began to move. They didn't care that it was night; in fact, it was the best time for long-distance travel given the chaotic conditions in the north. During the day, the heat was intense enough to burn their skin, while at night, despite the freezing cold, they had thick clothing and each other for warmth.
They crossed hills and valleys fearlessly, evading Symbiote patrols while gazing at the stars and occasionally criticizing their corrupt president. Kyle reminisced about the first time he met Dianne, back when he was first appointed Captain of the Fifth Division—the security force responsible for rescue operations and handling citizen grievances on Olympus. He remembered their first introduction and how they bonded over a shared sense of humor and similar tastes in food. Their long history played back like a movie in his mind; a film so long it wouldn't finish even if played non-stop for an entire day. They walked, stealing glances at one another. Both wondered where this path would lead. Currently, they were merely a superior and subordinate with mutual feelings, but their relationship was technically forbidden. Kyle was an organic human, while Dianne was a synthetic Meta-human. The scientists on Olympus strictly prohibited such unions, and the threat of being cast out for violating those rules hung over them.
Regardless, they were now traversing a vast desert. Several times, they stepped on human remains. These were victims of war—soldiers and civilians alike. At least these corpses hadn't turned into monsters like those killed by nuclear radiation. These skeletons likely belonged to those who died in the early stages of the conflict. Bullets fired, grenades and mines exploded, planes fell, ships sank, and submarines detonated until there was no turning back. Looking at the remains, Kyle could guess how they died. If the arms were displaced—like a palm resting against the ribs—it meant they bled out from a gunshot. If a skeleton lay face up or down with a shattered skull or a large hole in the bone, they were victims of a sniper. If the bones were scattered far apart, they were likely victims of mutilation—a clear war crime. Their eyes eventually fell upon two skeletons lying close together, locked in a final embrace.
After a long trek, they reached a small river with red-tinted water—a Parasite River. Fortunately, they were immune to the Radiate Virus. It was a minor obstacle. In that moment, Kyle recalled an old story: how humanity was destroyed by hatred toward "the other," until that grudge consumed a young man who turned into a monster, destroyed civilization, and restarted the world from zero. That story felt prophetic now. Hatred and anger are double-edged swords; even as we multiply, it doesn't mean we are moving away from extinction. How beautiful the world would have been if we had loved and protected each other as a single species. Animals lack perfect reason, yet they survive because they understand their commonality. When animals die, it is often because they let ego take over—like two elephant seals battering each other until the water turns red; even the winner looks foolish. In contrast, look at the orcas: they stay with their pod, hunt together, and explore the ocean as one. They possess a certain dignity; though they rely on the group, that is what makes them great. They protect one another, even though they are dangerous enough on their own.
Humanity has lived for thousands of years, yet we are already on the brink. We are the most "perfect" creatures, yet our time seems the shortest because we fight for selfish interests, acting like barbarians. One should feel ashamed when compared to the animals.
In the distance, Kyle and Dianne saw someone sitting alone, leaning against a withered tree. The leafless branches looked like a giant hand clawing out of the earth. The figure looked human, but in this world, nothing was certain, and it was impossible for a human to survive alone. As they approached, they saw an adult woman with white hair that turned black at the tips. She looked like a Meta-human, but the scene was chaotic. She appeared to be in intense pain, sweat pouring from her neck to the ground. Her stomach was slightly distended, and something was trying to force its way out of her. Kyle immediately rushed to help her give birth, but Dianne noticed something wrong. Blackened veins—the early sign of the Radiate Virus—were visible on the woman's skin. Kyle gently pulled the "infant" out, only to recoil in horror. It wasn't a human child, but a Crawler Symbiote infant that died the moment it was born.
The woman stood up immediately as if nothing had happened, even as blood and scraps of flesh still dripped from her. She punched her own stomach to deflate it, causing a pool of blood to gather instantly. This was bizarre—Meta-humans don't have red blood, nor can they give birth, let alone to a Symbiote. Kyle vomited as the woman leaned down and licked the blood off his hands to clean them. Her eyes were a bright sun-yellow, with orange and yellow makeup around the lids that looked too real to be paint. Then, she performed an impossible feat of flexibility, raising her right leg straight above her head before slamming it down onto the corpse of her own "child." The skull shattered, scattering flesh and teeth in every direction.
"Thank you, kind soul," she said with a warm smile before turning to walk away. Her voice was soft and melodic, slicing through the awkward tension.
"You! Stop right there!" Dianne shouted.
The woman glanced back. "Who are you exactly!?" Dianne demanded.
"I am the Secretary. I am a Symbiote," she replied.
The Secretary resumed walking until she suddenly leaped with such force and speed that dust and rocks exploded in her wake, disappearing into the distance.
A radio call from Charles came in immediately. He was frantic, asking about a massive energy surge detected near their location that was now moving away. Kyle explained what had happened in detail, describing the creature's physical traits, though he omitted the detail about the white hair with black tips. Charles sounded physically ill over the radio but quickly regained his composure. He stated that, for now, they would classify the Secretary as an Alpha Symbiote—a creature with power far exceeding the others, retaining the traits of its host, such as the ability to speak and comprehend conversation.
Kyle clicked the radio off.
Before they could process the encounter, a bright blue light fell from the sky hundreds of kilometers to the west. It plummeted with a shockwave far more powerful than the Secretary's leap, hitting the ground and creating a massive explosion and a thick cloud of dust.
Charles called back instantly. "There's a meteor near you! It wasn't detected coming from space; it's as if it appeared out of thin air within the atmosphere. The energy reading is enormous—far greater than the anomaly you just saw. It's in the direction of your goal. Check it out, but do not get too close if it's dangerous!"
"Copy that," Kyle said calmly. He stood up, massaged his palms, and stretched his neck. "Well, looks like we have more business. Let's go."
"Let's!" Dianne echoed.
But as soon as he took a single step, Kyle collapsed and fell fast asleep. Dianne laughed uncontrollably. Kyle didn't react; he was out cold, likely because of the sheer exhaustion from everything that had happened recently.
Meanwhile, at the crash site, a massive black sword with glowing light-blue ornaments was embedded in a giant rock, splitting it in two. From the crater, a figure climbed out. He wore black gloves, a dark blue coat with sleeves rolled to the elbows, military trousers, and dusty leather boots. He had straight white hair parted down the middle, glowing light-blue eyes, and black lines running from under his eyes to his chin. He looked like nothing from this world.
"What the hell is this!?" he muttered, shaking his head and stretching his arms.
Hundreds of Symbiotes immediately sprinted toward him in a massive horde, their synchronized footsteps thumping against the earth. They shrieked in discordant tones, creating a sense of primal panic.
The young man pulled the massive black sword from the rock and planted it in front of him to steady himself, staring at the approaching swarm.
"You guys... what kind of creatures are you? Oh well... I'll deal with all of you," he said. He hoisted his sword and charged directly into the horde with a gaze full of madness and burning spirit.
Back on the ship, Olympus was in a state of turmoil. The citizens were demanding the government rescue the survivors on Earth, reminding them that those left behind were still human. This unrest started after Charles wrote a report on a news blog, attaching satellite photos he had gathered while monitoring Kyle's activities. Social media was now flooded with people condemning the President for his lack of humanity.
Markus Spielberg walked through a dark, silent corridor where the only light came from a handheld flashlight. Gas hissed from old pipes, and water dripped from the ceiling. The President reached the end of the hall and swiped his ID card against the wall. A door slid open to reveal a vast laboratory filled with racks of test tubes containing strange, multi-colored liquids, all neatly arranged. Slowly, the President tapped the shoulder of a scientist who had fallen asleep at his desk.
Whatever was coming next remained a mystery.