The early morning dew and mist had arrived without much fanfare. The warm, moist temperature was hitting its early morning peak. Caelum rose, not entirely rested after being alert to every sound and wind rustle that had activated the alarm. Using the spear as a crutch to rise, he groaned. Every movement of his legs sent the pain coursing through his body.
Today, he planned to collect soil and water samples. The RMA would pay a hefty sum for samples from such a vibrant and active rift. He checked his kit in the dim light of the hollow: sterile screw-cap vials nested in an insulated pouch, a wide-mouth soil jar, tamper-proof seals, a ziplock bag, alcohol wipes, and a grease pencil for waterproof labels. Gathering everything together, he set out from the hollow.
He made his way along the roots from tree to tree, wanting to go to a new area for the samples. The hardened exterior of the roots felt like walking on rough-laid concrete. Every few trees, he paused to take notes on the interface, visible life, and environmental data. The little floating interface windows helped summarise what he was seeing.
After an hour of walking, his leg spasming in stubborn protest every fifth step, he found a break in the mangroves. He pulled out his pocket knife and started scraping away at the root while resting. It took 10 minutes to get a decent scratch in the bark, and after another 20 minutes, he had a small piece of bark, which he stored in a ziplock bag. He labelled the bag and sealed it.
He moved slowly down from the massive roots toward the waterline, opening a screw-cap vial, collecting water samples, marking them, and affixing a tamper-proof seal. He then grabbed his knife, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with his other hand. Caelum plunged the blade into the dark, loamy soil at the water's edge. The earth yielded with a soft, wet sound as he twisted and scooped, revealing layers of decomposing mangrove matter, russet and black, threaded with pale roots and the occasional glint of something that caught the filtered light. The rich, earthy smell of decay rose to meet him as he carefully transferred the sample to his jar.
Finishing up, he fully sealed the jar and rested a bit above the water's edge. He wanted to capture the rift's teeming life and document it. The insects that hovered above the water's surface, the slithering reptiles that slithered between roots, and those strange, translucent creatures that seemed neither fish nor amphibian but something uniquely evolved for this ecosystem. He spotted what looked like dead, floating fish that no animals approached—bait, or perhaps diseased.
On the far side of the area, Caelum sat. A group of crocodilian-like creatures bathed in the small ray of sunlight hitting their bank. They were heavily armoured, not with scales but with hexagonal bone plates, their colour a murky grey-greenish for blending into their environment. Watching the group, he noticed a few in the water staring at him too; they were either thinking he was lunch or just wary. It seemed like they were keeping to themselves from now on, but he would have to be more careful when approaching the water's edge.
Feeling happy with what he had been able to document, Caelum made his way back along the roots to the hollow. He knew that he didn't have much time left to awaken, but didn't want to think too much about it, afraid that worrying too much might prevent him from doing something that would actually awaken him. The sun was now a bit past the afternoon, and the walking, documenting, and sampling had taken a fair amount of time. Grumbling noises came from his stomach, reminding him that he had not eaten yet today.
Setting the samples down in the hollow, Caelum made his way back to where he had spear fished the prior day. He felt like this had become a familiar rhythm: fishing, exploring the rift, securing the shelter, and repeating when he arrived at the fishing spot.
The area felt wrong. The insects that swarmed here yesterday had vanished, and the water's surface stretched unnaturally flat. Caelum froze mid-step, pulse hammering as his eyes darted between the reeds and the pitch-black voids between mangrove roots. When he shifted his weight, his stomach dropped: a massive drag-mark carved through his old footprints, still glistening wet. His knuckles whitened around the spear as he held his breath, muscles coiled tight as steel cables, waiting for the violent splash that hung suspended in the terrible silence.
The Reed-Stalker? The Crocodillians? Caelum thought. His eyes scanned every inch around, from the roots above to the still waters below. A surge came from the reeds—not left, not right, but dead ahead. The spear almost leapt from Caelum's hands, half instinct and half memory of his instructor's voice: "Always be ready for the third thing." Two bunched legs, slick and bicoloured, launched a beast the size of a large dog directly at his chest. It hit with a snap, clinging to his shirt.
The thing's skin was slick and pebbled, a cross between a salamander and a komodo, and it reeked of ammonia. The sharp part wasn't the teeth—though the rows inside its lamprey mouth promised violence—but the entire body, wired up with organelles flickering like a high-voltage transformer. It pulsed under his hands, electricity crawling up his arms, but he managed to wrench it clear and toss it down the bank. It landed and tensed, tail twitching. Caelum thought it would run with its failed ambush. Instead, it turned, eyes locking with his, and unfurled a set of bright blue gills.
Its body spasmed. He barely registered the movement—only the warning tingle across his jawbone—before the entire world exploded in white.
He landed flat on his back, not in control of his body anymore. The Salamander-Komodo ran up and swallowed Caelum's injured leg in its mouth, its rows of teeth sinking deep into his flesh. The spear was just barely outside his reach now, as it got tossed when he fell. "FUCK!" He yelled. Is this how I die to a fucking Salamander?
Filled with a burst of resolve, adrenaline, and a will to live, Caelum grabbed his pocket knife from his back pocket. He unfurled its blade and stabbed into the Salamander's eye. It shook not with quite a roar but with a wet gwelch, but did not let his leg go. Caelum, now in a primal rage and fighting for survival, had ditched his combat training and just went stabbing. With each stab, he felt something change. His strikes became faster and more charged. His knife went for the blue-flared gills, and his hands moved faster and more effectively than even Caelum could have expected. He felt he was imbuing each strike with something else, the same sort of electricity he had been hit with.
Instead, something inside him had caught it.
ARC — FIELD UPDATE
Baseline Shift: CONFIRMED
Resonance: ELECTRICAL
Manifestation: ACTIVE (Stable)
Awakened Status: CONFIRMED — 98%