Falling into the Simulation pt 2

As he plummeted toward a desert dune, Tyrin realized that the crash site would be a compact fortress, approximately 100x100 meters, with an oasis at its center. Beside him, he saw Damian desperately kicking his feet, as if trying to flap wings—a futile reflex of self-preservation. In contrast, the two girls seemed incredibly calm, as if they already knew exactly what was about to happen.

The next moment, the four of them began to slow down until they landed gently on the ground.

"WELCOME TO THE BATTLE FOR ATAKAMA. DEFEND YOURSELVES!"

"Tyrin, do you know what battle this is?" Cassandra was the first to speak, while Damian was still on all fours, trying to catch his breath after the shock. Eleonora, on the other hand, simply dusted off her linen clothes, indifferent to what had just happened.

"The Battle of Atakama," Tyrin replied. "We lost this planet to the Tyranos."

He was already familiar with the simulation patterns of the Vanaheim Professors—challenges that were impossible to win. But this time, after so long, he would have the chance to face the Tyranos again.

"The planet is hostile to human life, but there are water sources that, for some reason, support survival. To ensure our presence here, several fortifications were built around these oases, allowing life to flourish," he explained.

"CHOOSE YOUR TWO STARTING ITEMS."

1 – 50 FOOT SOLDIERS

2 – 4 TURRETS

3 – FOOD AND WATER

4 – MEDICAL WING

5 – DORMITORY

6 – ASTRA COMMANDER

7 – FORTRESS STRUCTURE UPGRADE

8 – LAND MINES

9 – AMMUNITION DEPOT

10 – SCORPIONES FARM

It was the first time they had to make a strategic choice in the simulation. Tyrin reflected—Custer didn't seem interested in testing just individual strength. After all, there were already ten finalists with proven abilities in that regard. The real challenge would be strategy and teamwork. And now, the team had to decide, together, on the best approach to defend and manage the fortress.

Above the list, a countdown timer appeared: 5 minutes.

"Alright, guys, this is our first challenge. Does anyone have a suggestion?" Tyrin asked, wanting to hear his teammates' ideas before making any decisions.

Eleonora was the first to speak.

"I vote for turrets and soldiers. That way, we can secure the perimeter against the enemy."

"But how will they fight without food or ammunition?" Cassandra countered. "I don't think we'll last a day with just that. Besides, there's no guarantee we'll get to pick more resources later."

"So what do you suggest?" Eleonora crossed her arms.

"Since there are four of us, each of us can defend a side of the fortress. We upgrade the structure to withstand the enemy's advance and secure food and water for survival."

Damian still seemed to be processing the options, but finally spoke.

"What if we took land mines and food?"

Tyrin remained silent, absorbing the suggestions. Each had its merits, but he felt there was a hidden answer in the list—something the others hadn't noticed.

Then, it hit him.

"Guys, what if we chose the Scorpiones farm and the ammunition depot?"

Everyone turned to him. Cassandra was the first to question him.

"Okay, explain your logic."

"The Scorpiones farm wouldn't be on the list unless it was important. I just remembered something—despite being venomous, these Scorpiones are an extremely valuable delicacy on many noble planets."

"That's true," Eleonora agreed. "I've had them once. If prepared correctly, they're delicious."

Tyrin nodded, continuing.

"We saw from above that each fortress protects a lake of pure, drinkable water. With the farm, we'd have meat for sustenance and venom for possible combat strategies. Also, no matter our initial choice, we wouldn't be defenseless when the Tyranos attacked."

"We can coat our ranged weapons with the Scorpiones' venom," Tyrin added. "Their venom is the most lethal ever recorded. Plus, we can use their shells to reinforce the fortress's most vulnerable areas."

Cassandra slowly nodded, processing the idea, but Damian still seemed hesitant.

"Okay, I get the farm, but why the ammunition depot? Wouldn't it be better to take the soldiers?" he asked.

Tyrin shook his head.

"I thought about that, Damian, but if we want to survive as long as possible, we have to rely on ourselves. As Cassandra mentioned, common soldiers will be nothing but cannon fodder without enough ammunition. Without it, any Tyrano that shows up will wipe them out in minutes."

He recalled the time he fought a subspecies of Tyrano. Even though it was considered weak, that creature had wiped out many people from his planet before he defeated it himself—and even then, he barely made it out alive. He wasn't going to waste his choice on unprotected soldiers. Besides, a single Astra Commander wouldn't make a difference; they themselves were close to reaching that level.

Above all else, what they needed was ammunition.

"10 SECONDS. MAKE YOUR CHOICES."

"9..."

"Everyone agrees?" Tyrin asked, his voice steady.

"8..."

"I agree," Eleonora said without hesitation. "This approach makes sense."

"7..."

"I'm with big bro," Damian raised his hand.

"6..."

"5..."

"Cassandra, we need to decide now."

"4..."

"I..." She hesitated, but seeing the confidence in Tyrin's eyes, she gave in. "Alright. I'm in."

"3..."

"2..."

"We choose options 9 and 10!" they declared in unison.

The moment they confirmed their choice, two structures emerged beside the lake.

One was a rectangular bunker, 4 by 8 meters—the ammunition depot. Next to it stood a 25 by 25-meter electrified enclosure, where over a hundred Scorpiones the size of newborn babies crawled, their claws glistening under the dim desert light.

Tyrin narrowed his eyes, quickly assessing the situation.

"Perfect. We need to kill as many as possible before they reproduce," he said. "We can feed them with their own dead, since they're cannibals. If we leave about ten alive, that should be enough for a day. But be careful with their shells. Aim for the tails and let them bleed out—that way, we extract the venom and preserve the rest of the body."

The countdown for the first attack was set to one day—but Tyrin knew that in simulations, time could be stretched or compressed. A "day" could pass in just two minutes in the real world.

The hunt began. The day was spent eliminating the Scorpiones, collecting their bodies, and storing useful parts. By the end, ninety were dead, lined up outside the enclosure.

Tyrin scanned the group and smiled, satisfied.

"Good work. Now we need to clean up. Let's feed five of the survivors and dissect the rest. We'll save the shells to reinforce the fort tomorrow. Damian and I will handle the meat."

Eleonora watched Tyrin as he gave orders. Something about him intrigued her—the way Damian and Cassandra instinctively followed his lead suggested there was more to their relationship. As if they owed him something. Or maybe… as if he had saved their lives before.

"Finally done. Holy shit, I thought I was gonna die," Damian groaned, collapsing onto the ground.

Night fell over the desert, and the massive moon dominated the sky, shining with an almost surreal intensity. They built a makeshift campfire using materials from the fort, and soon, the smell of roasting Scorpiones meat filled the air. The scene was almost nostalgic, incredibly real—if not for one detail that reminded them they were still in a simulation: the large leaderboard floating in the sky.

The selected groups were listed there, their scores still at zero.

"How did two teams lose before even starting?" Damian wondered, lying on the ground, eyes fixed on the holographic display.

Eleonora returned, carrying a giant pot filled with a bubbling, suspicious-looking liquid.

"They probably couldn't agree on their choices," she replied absentmindedly.

Damian eyed the thick, dark liquid inside the pot. The Scorpiones venom bubbled faintly under the firelight, releasing a metallic, chemical odor. He picked up a knife, spinning it between his fingers, thoughtful.

"So, guys, we've collected all the venom we could. Now what? Do we just throw our weapons or ammo in here and hope for the best?" he asked, looking around.

Cassandra, returning from inside the fort, already had an answer.

"Relax. I found another giant pot and poked a few holes in it. We can use it as a strainer, making sure the venom seeps in properly without leaving unwanted residues. It'll work perfectly."

Tyrin, who had just finished checking the ammunition depot, nodded in approval. Cassandra always thought of the details.

Taking the opportunity, Tyrin shared a discovery from the depot.

"I checked our arsenal. We have plenty of rifle rounds and close-combat weapons, so we're well-armed. But there's something strange..." He held up a bullet between his fingers, examining it under the firelight. "I found this, and I'm not sure what it's for."

To Tyrin, it looked different from the others—heavier, with an unusual structure.

Eleonora, however, recognized it instantly.

"I know what that is. It's a hollow-point explosive round," she explained. "It was made for a specific weapon… It's designed for the one I use."

Tyrin grinned.

"Perfect. With this and the venom, our chances just skyrocketed."

He looked up at the sky. They still had time before the first attack wave.

"Let's rest as much as possible. I doubt anything will happen before the timer hits zero. We've got six hours left."

One by one, they settled in. The desert ground was far from comfortable, but after the exhausting day, any place felt good enough to sleep.

The campfire flames flickered under the massive moon, casting wavering shadows on the fortress walls. The desert was almost eerily silent, broken only by the occasional sound of a Scorpione scuttling in the enclosure or the crackle of burning wood.

Tyrin closed his eyes.

Tomorrow would be hell.

Meanwhile, outside the simulation.

The arena was in chaos. Alarms flashed, medics rushed back and forth, trying to contain the tragedy.

Custer leaned over the body, his eyes wide with shock.

"Shit! What the fuck are you all doing?!" his voice thundered. "Help the boy! Give him a vitality potion, now!"

One of the medics, pale as a corpse, hesitated before responding.

"Sir… he's dead."

The silence that followed was crushing.

Custer slowly turned his head to stare at the body in front of him.

The boy—or what remained of him—lay sprawled on the floor. His right arm was gone, leaving only a grotesque stump where flesh and bone had once been. But that wasn't the worst part.

Half of his face was… melting.

His skin dripped in a thick, viscous liquid, as if it had been plunged into acid. Parts of his skull were exposed, and the little that remained of his facial structure was collapsing inward, imploding in an irreversible organic breakdown.

The medics worked frantically to stabilize him, but it was too late.

The boy was dead.

And if Tyrin had been there to witness the scene, he would have recognized that face immediately.

Balthazar Rino.

Custer inhaled sharply, trying to suppress the rage boiling in his throat.

"What the fuck happened here?!" he roared.

Meanwhile, a girl was leaving the arena without looking back.

Her steps were steady. Her eyes, empty.

She didn't need to say anything.

She knew exactly what she had done.