G.O.D Complex// Earth Prime

In a valley carved between craggy stone cliffs, a dropship sat hidden in plain sight—its surface shimmering with translucent tech that reflected the rocky surroundings. It almost looked like a ghost—present, yet unseen.

Suddenly, cracking sounds echoed through the pass.

A hairy black leg emerged from the shadows, thick and bristling like a tree trunk. The creature it belonged to moved slowly, deliberately, its limbs clicking against stone with a sound like snapping branches.

It was a spider—but monstrous in scale. At least twice the size of the dropship.

The grotesque arachnid prowled forward, its mandibles twitching as it sniffed the air, seeking prey. Then, without pause, it crept back into the mountain maze, vanishing as eerily as it had arrived.

Inside the dropship, tension broke like glass.

Everyone exhaled.

"Even after escaping that cursed jungle, we're still running into nightmares," Jonas muttered, frowning.

"Get used to it," Linus replied, scanning the monitor. "Don't forget... before the blackout, humanity was already losing to the BrightBorn crisis."

His words sent a cold ripple through the group. Everyone had heard the name—BrightBorn. The outbreak that nearly wiped out Earth's last defense. And then came the blackout. After that? Nothing. A dark curtain fell, and whatever remained was classified or lost.

Nathalie stepped beside Linus, watching him flick through glowing holographic displays.

"You got the hang of this new system quick," she noted with a grin.

Linus didn't look at her. "It's not that different from using a computer. Once you know where the logic sits, it's like navigating a high-end OS... or a smart fridge."

Behind the sarcasm, his AI interface hummed, silently uploading and decrypting data from the dropship's archives.

Linus was fast—but with the AI? He was relentless.

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

With a gesture, the central screen expanded into a massive 3D hologram of the continent. Colony markers pinged into view—red, green, gray.

"I'm scanning for active colonies," he said. "Their purpose, viability, and updated satellite assessments."

The image zoomed in.

"According to this," Linus continued, pointing, "the nearest colony is classified as lifeless—recently fallen."

The room went still.

"Fallen?" Levi echoed.

"Do I need to draw it for you?" Linus sighed, earning annoyed looks from Benjamin and others. "It means the system detected zero vital signs, zero structural activity. Something went wrong. Maybe infection, maybe invasion—no data confirms the cause."

"So what's the plan?" Nathalie asked, arms crossed.

"We go there," Linus answered simply.

She shook her head. "Too dangerous. We don't even know what killed them."

"The alternative," Linus said, raising his wrist and showing his glowing red flag, "is walking into an active colony as branded criminals. They'll either exile us or use us."

Silence followed.

"Then what's your real goal?" Levi asked, watching him carefully.

Linus turned from the console, face calm.

"I want information," he admitted. "The fallen colony's archives might still be intact. Logs, maps, research... Things only top-level access can retrieve. Stuff red flags like us can't get anywhere else."

"Isn't that… kind of selfish?" Petty asked softly.

"Not really," Linus replied. He motioned to the desolate world outside the viewport.

> "The old world is dead. The ones who adapt now will write the new rules."

There was a long pause before Jonas broke it.

"Wait… are you saying—"

"We could become kings," Linus finished, smiling.

Excitement spread like wildfire.

"Damn," Sebastian muttered, rubbing his jaw. "Didn't think of it that way."

Nathalie frowned. She didn't care about power—but even she saw the value in what Linus said. Information was leverage, and leverage meant survival.

"So it's settled," she sighed. "We head for the fallen colony tomorrow."

Linus nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

There was more driving him than ambition.

Memories. Flashes of screaming. A woman. A gun pointed at his face.

The blackout didn't just swallow the world—it swallowed pieces of him too.

---

Elsewhere…

Dust whipped across a shattered road. Between cliffs, a massive cargo crawler rumbled forward on titanic wheels—an older model ship, armored and militarized.

Inside, the stench of metal and burnt oil clung to every wall. Screens buzzed faintly as technicians scanned maps and power readings.

In the command cabin, a grizzled man scratched at a scar over his eye until blood trickled down his cheek.

Commander Cross.

He wiped the blood with a dirty cloth and stared at the screen.

"Coordinates?" he asked.

A woman leaned forward, voice low. "We'll reach the fallen colony by morning."

"Good," Cross replied.

He opened a small capsule and swallowed the last of his nutritional drug. Energy surged through his veins—but it wasn't enough to hide the grim reality.

> This was their last chance.

"Are we sure the colony still has supplies? Nutrients? NC machines?" the woman asked anxiously.

"It has to," said another voice behind them.

A woman with violet hair stood silently—Beatrice. Her hand clutched a small necklace around her neck. Her eyes, usually filled with fire, were now dim.

"If not," she whispered, "our colony's next."

None of them spoke after that.

The outer world had become a graveyard. The colonies no longer talked. Communication was severed, trust gone. They had nothing left but desperation.

Beatrice looked at the small hologram on her wrist—a picture of her little sister.

> "Wait for me, Celestine... big sister's bringing food."

— To be Continued