Chapter 1 : huntress

"Arborameth, a place where the evolution of species was marked by the brutality of a location as fertile as it is hostile."

Aïma was a particularly agile human hunter, known for her long, brown hair, her sun-kissed skin, and her almond-shaped, epicanthic eyes that lent her a striking beauty. Yet, her stern gaze revealed a different aspect of her personality. The poised posture of a skilled stalker in the wild left potential suitors wary to approach, their natural curiosity tamed by her commanding presence, and her formidable reputation.

Today, Aïma stalked through Arborameth's steel-hued woods, surrounded by reddish-tinted trees absorbing iron-rich minerals from the ground. She hoped to uncover valuable treasures hidden in the forest's depths. While Arborameth's wilderness brought danger, Aïma, like a few others, dared to navigate through the perils that lurked below the canopy, most of the time.

Atop a branch, she awaited her preferred quarry, the bradams. These small four-horned deer's antlers curved in strange patterns over their bodies, recognizable by their mostly white fur and light brown stripes, distinguishing them both for hunters and predators. Although the bradams were elusive and treasured for their remarkable antlers and their allegedly divine-tasting flesh, they became increasingly vulnerable during mating season when they approached the forest borders. Aware of this habit, Aïma chose a strategic place, halfway between the forest's darkest depths and the human cities, among younger trees of Arborameth no taller than thirty meters.

Despite the risks involved, Aïma considered this place far safer than others, due mostly to the frequent presence of the inexperienced, younger wolves of Ardeth. Though larger than normal wolves, they were easily foiled by Aïma's knowledge of the forest and her ability to climb any tree.

Aïma observed and studied the area meticulously. Each detail present, an invaluable treasure or imminent threat, especially when she caught a glimpse of a rusty-red lizard, probably a dormant specimen of Abom. They primarily ate tree tubers and remained mostly inactive, considered tranquil and delectable by Aïma. She hadn't eaten in almost two days, making her mouth water in anticipation. Her stomach's grumbling reminded her that she shouldn't waste time if she wanted to eat for the day.

So, she stood and readied her bow—the sleeping Abom rarely moved but would flee in fear once alerted, only traveling a few meters in a day. Yet, as she prepared to fire, the Abom darted off in an unfamiliar display of speed. Aïma lost balance but grazed the sturdy branch of a steel-hued tree, saving herself from a fatal fall. [

Frustrated and embarrassed, she climbed back to her perch, struggling to control her anger. She discovered the reason for the lizard's erratic behavior shortly after the ground trembled, alerted by the colossal footsteps of the Gremörn.

A four-meter-wide behemoth with powerful, nimble limbs, resembling muscular human hands enveloped in thick, brown fur. Their absurd potato-shaped snout occupied nearly half their face, their massive jaw barely gave way for minuscule eyes, leaving them almost blind.

Yet, even with its awkward gate and seemingly dimwitted eyes, its scent was highly sensitive, and its hooked-teeth maw allowed no escape for unfortunate prey tagged by its advanced nose. Its indiscriminate appetite gave Aïma second thoughts about confronting such a formidable foe. Within the treetops, her only option was to sneak away before the Gremörn noticed her presence.

For now, it hadn't perceived her. Still, Aïma remained ever vigilant of the air shifting around her, each breath the primordial sign of imminent danger. Close to the precipice, she mustered the courage for a daring leap to the next tree, all while the beast sniffed the air intently, drawing nearer and filling her chest with anxiety.

But Aïma was a skilled hunter. With the same resolve that kept her alive in the woods, she steadied herself, heart pounding in her ears. A long exhale emptied her lungs before another gave her strength, talking silently to herself, "I have seen uglier in Tenera. You don't scare me, monster!"

A branch groaned under Aïma's footfall, but the Gremörn didn't react, its attention focused on the scents wafting through the air. With its snout turned towards the sky, the abomination crawled up the tree, sniffing for signs of the lizard's scent. In the nick of time, Aïma hastened her descent, successfully leaving the Gremörn behind.

On the ground, the abomination jumped, attempting to reach its new prey. But Aïma was already too high for its clumsy grasp. Slipping back down the tree, shaking the foliage, the creature stood, ready to bound towards her. Yet, she had already gained quite a distance and increased her pace from tree to tree, leaving the Gremörn to fumble after her below the canopy.

However, the behemoth refused to give up. Turning around, it fixed its gaze on Aïma, puzzled by the foreign scent. She jumped from branch to branch, surpassing the creature while humming with satisfaction. Her confidence was well placed. She noticed something important about the Gremörn's limits—it was too clumsy to bound from tree to tree such as she did. So, she climbed even higher, reaching the upper levels of Arborameth's treetops.

Still, the Gremörn wasn't far behind. As it stared up at her, Aïma assessed her chances for an escape. She had not expected the beasts's resilience, its pestering pursuit torture as they hid among the treetops.

But finally, the pursuit and climbing took a toll on the creature, unable to maintain its chase. The Gremörn sat, satisfied, its grin widening. Aïma knew she couldn't outrun it forever. After a long hour spent among the branches, protecting herself from the sun's warm gaze, she prepared for another descent, cherishing the opportunity to give her tired limbs a respite.

Hours passed with neither Aïma nor the beast moving. Night fell, casting a dark, purplish blue hue in the sky. Bioluminescent plants flickered on, painting the forest in festive, ethereal colors. Normally, Aïma would appreciate their beauty, but not now. Keeping a keen eye for signs of weakness in her foe, she hoped to find an opening. Yet, hesitant to waste her arrows for such a slim chance to pierce the creature's skin, she remained patient for several hours.

Suddenly, a horrifying metallic screech pierced the silence. The beast dashed away in fear as other animals fled the sharp noise. Aïma, terrified, was left frozen on her branch. Though she wanted to run, her legs refused to listen.

She scanned for signs of her enemy. But all was quiet again – no wind, not even the normal sound of creatures buzzing. The terrifying sound had vanished, leaving an odd stillness behind.

Regaining her composure, Aïma realized she could no longer afford to stay put. As she mustered up the courage to keep going, she decided against following the fleeing animals; the safety of their escape could be a trap. Silently, Aïma ventured forth, carefully navigating the forest, deeper into the unknown.

All was quiet now; the forest had fallen eerily silent. Even the rustling of the wind between the trees was absent. Though it offered her no sense of comfort, Aïma knew that she had to move, pushing her exhaustion aside. After much contemplation, she decided not to follow the terrified animals, understanding that escape could be a trap. It could possibly mean the creatures were the danger's true target—or perhaps the threat had followed them.

Slowly and cautiously, she maneuvered her way through the trees, steadily traveling southward without fully realizing it. For hours now, she had lost her bearings; nonetheless, she continued forging ahead, navigating the forest's twists and turns.

Suddenly, something unusual caught her eye. It looked almost like a trail of some sort on the ground—gigantic and continuous. A snake? No, something about it bothered her, and her confusion grew as she examined the distorted acier tree nearby.

"Could it be a creature of such size? Or did the tree simply bend under great weight? No, nothing is capable of bending the acier so effortlessly."

As she searched for answers, her curiosity piqued. If not an animal, what other forces could be at play in this mysterious forest? She knew now that the noise came from this path of devastation. The trees, now resembling bizarre arches, offered confirmation. However, that meant the danger could have moved on or was hopefully asleep.

Though fear had immobilized her before, reason eventually propelled her forward. Now, her curiosity threatened to dominate as well, as she ventured nearer to the unknown source. As a final check, she listened closely, searching for any vibrations. Hearing nothing, she cautiously continued. A few steps more, and her questions would soon be answered.

With utmost care and keeping as silent as possible, Aïma approached the strange trail on the ground, hoping not to leave a trace of her own. Only after several meters had passed did she come across a peculiar sight: something that seemed to have caused the massive fracture in the earth now rested before her—embedded in the soil. It was a boulder, significantly smaller than a Gremörn but none the less mysterious.

"How could something so petite have wreaked such devastation?" she wondered.

Hesitating only for a moment, Aïma stood still, assuring herself the mysterious object was no longer a threat. Drawing closer, she examined the oddly altered stone. She noticed some unusual markings, seemingly ingrained into the rock, as if intentionally placed there.

Intrigued, Aïma attempted to touch the odd object, apply force, even strike it with her knife. Her conclusions: hollow, remarkably sturdy, and filled with a great mystery. What, or who, could be inside? Her curiosity piqued, Aïma reasoned it must hold some value if she could bring back part of this peculiar find. She selected a protrusion from the rock as her target and struck, hearing: toc.

With a surprising jolt, the object split open, releasing a long hiss followed by a burst of air. Aïma gasped and fell back, certain her end was near. She braced for the unknown force inside, but nothing happened. Instead, the capsule revealed a series of mechanical engravings and a figure—a humanoid form, metallic, cold, and seemingly lifeless.

Aïma's heart continued its vigorous rhythm, but slowly her body regained its composure. Once calm enough to approach, she reached out to find a pulse. The man's skin was velvety yet cold, metallic but solid—almost like acier. She could only find silence, but still, there remained hope. Carefully, she severed through the cables holding him in place.

With a heavy thud, the man collapsed out of his sarcophagus, going limp as soon as his head touched the ground. A sudden, violent but temporary spasm soon followed. A series of blue-tinged pulses surfaced, enveloping his form. The being made a strange, indecipherable sound that Aïma couldn't comprehend but recognized as a cry for communication.

"Initialization: central communication network search failed. Loading local knowledge: error, corrupted file. Adopting zero-knowledge startup protocol. Initialization successful."

The being rose to its feet; its once vibrant colors now dimmed. Aïma, in fear, pointed her arrow at the figure. But this being appeared indifferent as it turned its gaze, revealing broad sapphire-blue eyes.

Robot's Thoughts:

"Analysis confirmed, discovery of complex being."

Aïma couldn't understand the phrases, yet they didn't sound hostile. Pronounced slowly in a deep tone, they instead evoked a dancing spirit within her—a first. Disarmed by her own apprehensions, she lays her weapon down and spoke to the still robot.

"From where do you come and why are you here?"

Faced with her curiosity, the robot tilted its head. Unfamiliar with Aïma's language, having little in common, it responded by accessing its translation functions.

Robot's Thoughts:

"Unknown language detected."

"Analysis in progress."

The robot didn't reply with words, but with awkward imitations of Aïma's gestures. After a few failed attempts mimicking human salutes, Aïma realized what the creature was doing and decided to challenge it to climb the tree for safety.

With determination, Aïma scaled the steel tree with elegance and agility, revealing her extensive training. With great force, Ego tried to imitate her, leaving a lasting mark on the tree. Numerous attempts followed, yet it couldn't lift its own body off the ground. Despite its effort, Ego kept falling on its face repeatedly.

It didn't appear to be very agile or understand the task at hand. Nevertheless, after many tries, Ego started showing progress, using the cavities left by its fingers to climb higher. Before long, they reached the same altitude. Had Ego learned to climb in this short time frame? Aïma didn't know if she should laugh at the comical scene or admire the creature's efforts.

On the robot's metal frame, letters seemed familiar, and she elected to use them as a name: Ego. Except, unbeknownst to her, the designation was not letters but numbers representing its series number.