G.O.D Complex// Earth Prime

Another white dot blinked off the scanner.

Nathalie shut the interface with a silent sigh and turned her gaze to the jungle. Broken trees, shredded leaves, and the eerie stillness of a world that had just fed.

The ramp to the dropship groaned open.

She stepped inside.

Cool lights flickered on overhead, illuminating a tight, sterile interior—a mobile operations base. Weapons hung on the walls, 3D printers hummed faintly in standby mode, and the cockpit displayed a panoramic view of Earth Prime's distorted horizon.

Nathalie moved fast. She sat at the command console and tapped through the ID database. The vitals of those still alive flickered onscreen—some stable, others rapidly deteriorating. A few hadn't moved for too long.

> Already gone, she thought coldly, ignoring the blinking red tags.

Then she noticed something.

A handful of survivors were on the move—fast. One was headed directly toward the dropship's location at full sprint.

> "That must be Linus," she murmured. "And if he gave the coordinates… it means he's trying to save as many as possible."

She frowned, annoyed by the logic.

> "In a normal world, I wouldn't care. But down here... survival means using others."

She zoomed in on three rapidly converging ID tags. A small girl. Two others. Unexpectedly, a group had formed.

> "Huh. That's rare."

Still, time was ticking.

---

Linus – Seconds from Death

Linus gasped, nearly dropping his rifle. The suit was overheating, the boosters drained, and his ammo count had gone dry two minutes ago.

Surrounded.

Dozens of hybrid apes circled him in the trees—grotesque creatures with the bodies of baboons and the brains of men. Their mouths frothed. Spears gleamed in their hands.

He braced himself. The last few moments of his life, and all he could do was laugh bitterly.

> "So this is how it ends…"

Suddenly—

PEW!

A red beam lanced through the canopy, piercing the lead ape's skull. It dropped without a sound. Chaos exploded.

Drones swarmed in—sleek, fast, and precise—cutting down the apes one by one. Linus froze in shock as his HUD flickered with a blinking transmission.

> ["What are you waiting for? RUN!"] came Nathalie's voice.

He bolted.

---

SLAM!

The dropship ramp sealed shut behind him. The hiss of sterilized air filled the space.

Linus yanked off his helmet, sucking down a lungful of clean oxygen.

"Thanks for the pickup," he muttered, glancing up at Nathalie.

She gave him a smirk from the upper deck. "Don't thank me yet."

"Anyone else made it?"

"Not yet. I sent drones. We'll see who makes it."

---

Three Hours Later…

The ramp opened again.

One by one, the survivors stumbled in—exhausted, bloodied, but alive. Levi collapsed to the floor. Benjamin limped over to a bench, shocked to see the small girl—Petty—still alive, her face bruised but calm.

> "How… how did she make it?" he whispered, almost laughing.

Linus scanned the room—faces half-dead with exhaustion. But one face was missing.

> "Is this everyone?" he asked quietly.

Nathalie didn't answer right away. She simply shook her head.

> "Apart from them... no one else made it."

Linus nodded and turned away.

He didn't show pain. Just a deep, silent disappointment.

> Velvet didn't make it.

---

Flight Orders

"What now?" Nathalie asked, sitting behind the controls.

Linus turned to her, surprised. "You're asking me?"

She scoffed. "Out of all of us, you're the one who read every manual like it was gospel. You lead. Simple."

The others looked up, silent. Exhausted. Hopeless.

But none of them protested—Nathalie's hand rested near her sidearm. Her stance was clear: obey, or get out.

"Fine…" Linus sighed, stepping up to the helm.

"Everyone, strap in. We're getting out of this hell-jungle."

The dropship shuddered as engines roared to life.

Like a rocket, it blasted off—leaving behind smoke, shattered trees, and an ear-piercing sonic boom.

---

Inside the Cockpit

Linus sat beside Nathalie, glancing at the screens. The jungle was behind them, but what lay ahead was no safer.

Canyons stretched like scars across the land. Green moss covered sharp rock faces. Massive kangaroo-like beasts—each the size of a building—bounced across the terrain below. Harmless, for now.

"Low altitude only," said Nathalie. "Until we know what flies here, I'm not going any higher."

Linus nodded. "Smart."

He glanced at her—competent, focused. Clearly, naval piloting was one of the skills she'd downloaded. A relief. Velvet had been his backup plan, but now she was…

> Don't think about it.

He made a mental note.

Nathalie is essential. Keep her alive.

Then came the voice.

Sebastian.

A brute of a man—thick, mean-eyed, with the kind of presence that made you want to watch your back.

He smirked as he stood near the wall-mounted weapons rack.

> "Shouldn't we check the other dropships? Might be gear left behind."

Nathalie glanced at him in disgust.

Sebastian's eyes lingered on her, then Petty—the smallest girl, barely holding her seatbelt in place.

Linus turned, voice like stone.

> "Go back there yourself if you want."

Sebastian shut up. He wouldn't return.

He'd seen what took his last companion.

---

Benjamin adjusted his glasses. "So… what now?"

Linus looked ahead. "We head for the colonies. The ones that were mentioned in the briefings."

Levi finally spoke. "There's a chance they'll kill us on sight."

Petty looked up. "Why? Aren't they human too?"

Jonas—skinny, twitchy, dead-eyed—laughed from the side.

> "Look at your wrist."

She blinked. Looked. The red band on her gauntlet gleamed.

A Red Flag.

> "They'll know we're criminals the moment they see it."

Jonas smirked, enjoying the tension. Everyone knew his type. Cannibal. Opportunist.

Liability.

Linus kept him in his peripheral vision at all times.

Nathalie shook her head. "So we're flying blind?"

"No," Linus answered. "The plan is still to find a colony. Preferably one that doesn't shoot on sight."

"And if they do?" asked Levi.

"Then we survive the same way we've done since Day One."

He leaned forward.

> "Together."

— To be Continued