The Flying Vessel (1)
In the world of Space Survival, the ability to travel through space was of paramount importance. Obvious enough, considering it was a game set in the cosmos.
However, the point at which space travel became readily available varied from species to species.
Factions like the Spacedogs, who made their living raiding other ships, or the Mega Corp players who started out as patrol boat captains, could venture into space very early on. These were factions whose recommended playstyle revolved around using their ships for smuggling or recruiting mercenaries.
On the other hand, some species were specialized for activity in the vacuum of space yet arrived on the scene late due to various restrictions.
Metallic Gremlins, for instance, were capable of space travel from birth, but their means of escaping a planet's atmosphere were limited. Outspacers could launch straight into space the moment they started, but in exchange they had to secure their own means of defense.
Simply put, you needed to establish a foothold on your starting planet before emerging into space if you wanted the game to go smoothly.
Amorph belonged to the latter category.
He could survive in open space without much trouble, but he possessed no spaceflight ability of his own, which made an early expansion difficult. To reach another planet, he had to sneak aboard a player's or NPC's vessel and hitch a ride.
But once he grew steadily like that and finally acquired spaceflight, his playstyle would change dramatically. His field of operations would expand from maneuvering within a single continent — or at most a single ship — to the entirety of space itself.
After all, FTL travel comes bundled with the spaceflight ability.
That didn't mean he could use it whenever he pleased, of course. Faster-than-light travel devoured enormous amounts of energy. It demanded nearly as much preparation as infiltrating another ship.
Use it carelessly and you'd run dry mid-flight and starve to death.
He would have to gorge himself on as much prey as possible before departure, and also confirm whether there were any opportunities to resupply along the way.
Beyond that, the main drawback was that it couldn't be used mid-combat. FTL travel required a wind-up period beforehand, so activating it during a fight meant dying to the enemy's guns.
In the game, those risks forced us to use it carefully, but…
This world was different. Because he possessed another form of interstellar travel.
His unique trait, Nightmare Horizon — the ability to assimilate with a starship and turn it into a kind of living vessel.
Either one alone has plenty of limitations and hassles, but with both, it's a whole different story.
Nightmare Horizon and the Beast's Reinforced Wings. Each trait had stark strengths and weaknesses.
Nightmare Horizon was far less versatile, but it could store vastly more energy, making it ideal for ultra-long voyages spanning multiple star systems in a single leap. The catch was that it could only seize one ship, and only once every seven days.
The Beast's Reinforced Wings, by contrast, were effective for travel between planets, or between neighboring star systems. For anything farther, the issue of securing food had to be solved first.
In other words, depending on how he used the two traits, each could compensate for the other's shortcomings.
Use the wing-arms on planets or within a star system, and when I want to go far, ambush a ship and use Nightmare Horizon.
There would no doubt be plenty of other applications as well, but those could wait to be discovered.
I looked down at my arms, now bearing the Beast's Reinforced Wings.
The very first trait I had gained since arriving in this world had been wings. Back then, they'd been like a beetle's — folded over my back like a carapace in everyday life, unfurling only when needed.
The wings I'd just acquired, however, took a very different form. That was because the topmost pair of my six combat arms had transformed into them.
Originally, all of my combat arms had been identical in length and shape, changing only when I used a special transformation mode.
But the winged arms now dwarfed the others — somewhere between two and three times their size. They were so long that even with my upper body held perfectly upright, the tips of their digits brushed the ground when fully extended.
Along their chitin plating ran rows of small holes covered by thin membranes — vents for expelling propellant, necessary for FTL travel and flight through space.
And of the four fingers on each hand, all but one had grown long and sturdy, with broad flight membranes stretching between them and down the length of the arms. Think of a bat's wing and you wouldn't be far off.
The outer surface of the membrane was covered in scales, giving it a rough, pebbled texture, while the inner side sprouted fine down that felt remarkably soft to the touch.
The exterior was reasonably tough, with resistance to energy-based weapons. Its defenses could withstand at least one hit from a ship-mounted plasma cannon — good enough to serve as emergency cover in a pinch.
Not that it's a great idea to rely on it — the membrane tears if I take too many hits.
The membranes were nearly as large as my own body, though folded up as they were now, they didn't look it. When the winged arms bent, the draping membranes made it seem as though I were wearing an enormous cloak.
Amorph, wearing a cloak.
If I evolved into an Adult in this state, I'd cut quite an impressive figure — something like the three-headed dragon from those classic Japanese monster movies.
Adult.
Now that I had the freedom to roam the cosmos, I could meet the evolution conditions far faster than before. With such an excellent means of travel, the entire planet was my hunting ground.
I still had a long way to go before reaching adulthood, but I would fill the requirements far quicker now than ever before.
｢You like them that much?｣
While I was gazing at my wings with satisfaction, the Mother of the Sky approached me. The others had briefly withdrawn in case I turned hostile after the Paragon of the Hunt's effect wore off. Behind her came No. 26 and PS-111.
[Zzzzz zzz (Sorry for making you worry)]
｢Don't be. I already knew what to expect.｣
｢Big Baby, are you full now?｣
[Zzzz zzz zzzzz zzzzzz (Sorry I ate most of it all myself)]
｢It's okay! Babies get hungry again real fast anyway!｣
By the time the Avatar of the Hunt's side effects had worn off and I came back to myself, all that remained of the prey before me was half of the female Crystalwing's torso. The male's corpse had vanished entirely into my stomach.
“Preliminary simulation, of reinforced-form energy consumption, indicates, insufficient energy reserves, at present.”
[Zzzzz zzzz zzzzzz zzzzz (I'm fine now that my mind is back)]
“We were informed, that 'Amorph', can eliminate weaknesses, through genetic modification. We recommend, consuming, other organic matter, for this purpose.”
She didn't need to tell me — that was already the plan. I'd gotten the flight ability I wanted; next on the list was hunting the Sharkbear and gaining a new trait.
[Zzzzzz zzzz zzzzzzz (Let's go find new prey once I finish eating)]
｢Okay!｣
“Understood.”
No. 26 and PS-111, who had been busy gorging themselves on Crystalwing meat, answered with vigor.
｢Oh, right. There's something I need to show you.｣
In lieu of a reply, the Mother of the Sky held out a small metal fragment for me to see. What she presented was a half-melted piece of ivory-colored metal — Moonsilver.
[Zzzz zzz zzzz (Moonsilver? Where did you find this?)]
｢Inside the female's guts. It was being digested.｣
While I had been eating the male's head to gain my trait, she had been examining the female — she needed to consume its heart and organs to advance her deification stage. The Moonsilver fragment must have turned up during that work.
But why would a Crystalwing have Moonsilver?
I studied the fragment closely.
[Zzzzzz zzzz (It's not in raw mineral form)]
｢Nope. It's refined Moonsilver alloy.｣
With that, a suspicion began to take shape. She must have arrived at the same thought, because she nodded silently in agreement.
Moonsilver was a mineral used primarily by the Cult. Its power-amplifying properties meant that Moonsilver alloy saw heavy use not only in weapons and reinforced suits, but in ships as well.
Which left only one answer.
Jason.
There was no doubt — it was a trace of the starship he and his subordinates had arrived on. Judging by how far the metal had melted, it had been digested quite a while ago.
At least a day, I'd say.
[Zzzz zzzz zzzzzz (Anything else besides this?)]
｢No other traces.｣
If the male's corpse had still been around, I could have searched it further, but regrettably I had eaten every last bit of it.
A starship, huh.
I had already heard, when interrogating Jason in his Human-Faced Beast form, that he had brought several subordinates with him. And that those subordinates had set up camp at the Black Galagon's nest.
That should have been impossible — it was a miracle made possible only because the Black Galagon had maintained a close relationship with his fellow player.
He said they'd never leave until he came back.
But given the current situation, it was highly likely his subordinates had met with disaster while trying to leave the planet. A Crystalwing would never have pushed into the Black Galagon's territory to attack Cultists.
Or was it an entirely different faction?
It was possible that pirates composed of Cultists had set foot in this place. Muriel's cartel, for instance.
No point overcomplicating it.
If it mattered, I could simply find out for myself.
My thoughts settled, I turned to look at the kids. No. 26 and PS-111 had already finished their brief meal as well.
[Zzzzzz (Did you eat well?)]
｢Yep.｣
“We are satisfied, however, additional energy, is required.”
[Zz zzzz (Good, that works out)]
We'd all had our meal, and I'd gained my winged arms.
It was the perfect moment to start hunting from the skies.
“All repairs are complete.”
“Phew. Thank Providence for that.”
Only now did the captain, who had been wringing his hands throughout the ship's repairs, finally release a long breath. This accursed planet was crawling with every manner of terrifying monster.
Insane. Six attacks in less than a single day!
The Cult cruiser had crash-landed near the midpoint of an enormous mountain. It was a good distance from the Galagons' nest, but that hardly made it safe.
Being far from the Galagon nest meant, in other words, that plenty of other wild beasts roamed the area. They had expected attacks, certainly — but never in their wildest dreams had they imagined being assaulted this frequently.
If not for the Temple Guard — experts in the business of hunting monsters — the crew would have long since become a feast for the beasts.
Still, at least the Garan Mano haven't come back.
Garan Mano possessed a specialized outer carapace that rendered them invisible to detection equipment. Unless you spotted them with your own two eyes or employed a special psionic technique, evading their ambushes was next to impossible.
It had been that cursed trait of the Garan Mano, after all, that had brought about the disaster that befell Jason's subordinates as they tried to leave the planet.
The Temple Guard members had watched with eyes ablaze, fearing another assault, but mercifully no such calamity occurred.
“Providence favors us. All hands, prepare for liftoff!”
“Yes, sir!”
At the captain's order, the crew sprang into motion. The engines that had sat dormant sputtered back to life, and warmth returned to the hull that the cold outside had chilled to the bone.
The Cultists in the situation room synchronized with the freshly awakened cruiser through the operation of their psychic power. The information stored at the time of the crash flowed steadily into their linked minds, and the most critical of it was projected at the center of the room as translucent images woven from energy.
“Engine activation at seventy percent. Still rising toward one hundred.”
“Energy reserves at sixty-seven percent. Nominal.”
“Sealing of damaged compartments complete.”
“We are ready for liftoff.”
“Good. Ready the engines so we can jump the moment we clear the planet.”
“Yes!”
“Watchers — report immediately if any Galagons or other threats appear.”
“Understood.”
With every preparation made, the ship began to rise slowly into the air. The long, lozenge-shaped ivory cruiser wavered slightly at first hover, but soon soared cleanly into the sky.
Please, let us meet no threats at all—
“A biological signature is approaching at high speed! It's a Galagon!”
“Damn it all!”
The Cultist in charge of external surveillance reported in a panic. At the same moment, a tactical map far more intricate than anything Mega Corp or the Star Union could produce unfolded above the situation room.
A triangle-shaped marker was closing in on the diamond at the map's center — their ship.
“Can you identify the Galagon's color?”
“Judging by size, presumed green. If it holds its current trajectory, collision with the target is projected in five minutes.”
“…Tch. Switch to evasive maneuvers, but maintain maximum possible speed. Do not engage. We break away at top speed.”
“Understood.”
Judging by the velocity of its full-tilt approach, the creature did not seem to be arriving with friendly intent. Whatever the reason, it was unmistakably coming for the cruiser.
Just as the entire crew tensed at this sudden adversary—
the face of the watcher on surveillance duty drained deathly white.
“E-emergency report! Another unidentified target is approaching!”
“What?”
“By its s-size, at minimum white! Its speed is, is monstrous! One minute to impact!”
This utterly unforeseen catastrophe threw everyone in the situation room into disarray. The captain, barely clinging to his composure, barked out his orders.
“Spin up the FTL engines! Surveillance — share the visual feed from the external cameras!”
“We cannot synchronize the engine activation in time!”
“Goddamn it — make it work however you have to!”
While the room spun into frenzied chaos, the footage from the external cameras materialized at the center of the situation room.
Wh-what is that?
The captain's eyes nearly bulged out of his skull at what the camera had captured.
It was like a black meteor suspended against the dark sky — an ill omen that, so Providence declared, appeared whenever a great calamity was about to befall the Empire.
A black demon was driving toward them, beating its colossal wings.
“Huh? What's that thing?”
As everyone stood frozen in terror before the dreadful presence, someone's imbecilic voice echoed through the situation room. At those words, the captain's gaze snapped to the reinforced glass at the front of the room.
There, where only black clouds had churned — where blizzards and hailstorms raged — something was there.
A black silhouette that flashed with every stroke of lightning.
The horrifying thing captured on camera came hurtling at them, its maw stretched wide open.
“E-everyone, brace for impa—!”
The instant the captain screamed until his voice tore, the cruiser lurched violently.