Osamaru

  The rge screen embedded in the wall flickered off, its glow fading into nothingness. Silence lingered for a moment before the gathered figures turned back to face each other. The scenes captured by Alpha’s spy drones sat heavily on the minds of each person sitting around the rge table in the cramped meeting room.

  “Well… that’s concerning,” Antchaser muttered, breaking the silence.

  The wiry, half-starved goblin hunter of only months ago was gone. In his pce sat a man who, while still lean, had filled out with the kind of muscle earned through relentless hardship. His Federation-standard undersuit hugged his frame, while well-worn jeans lent him an air of casual confidence, though nothing about him was truly rexed. The undersuits were typically meant to be worn under power armor, but their durability, comfort, and the status they represented, had made them rather popur with the goblin hunters. Now that they didn’t have to hide them from the Adventurers, many hunters had started openly wearing them again.

  Survival had always carved strength into Antchaser’s bones, but it had been a necessity before. A body pushed to its limits by scarcity and struggle. Now, a proper diet and a minor cultivation breakthrough had refined that strength. His bark-colored skin had taken on a healthy luster, and where once exhaustion had hollowed his face, now sharp features stood out — no longer gaunt or shadowed by sleepless nights. The ever-present dark rings beneath his eyes had faded, and the ragged stubble he once let grow unchecked was now shaved clean, revealing a jawline that, while not conventionally handsome by human standards, carried an undeniable presence.

  Even his hair, once left wild and untamed, spoke volumes. His thick bck-green hair was combed and adorned with cn sigils and hunter’s honors, telling those who knew how to read such things that he was no longer just another hunter scraping by. He was someone worth remembering.

  At 5’2”, Antchaser stood taller than most goblins — though still notably shorter than the humans of the visiting expedition. But beside the figure next to him, even he seemed small.

  “Bah! I can take him!” Boarsyer decred, folding her arms across her massive chest — each limb thick enough to rival Antchaser’s waist.

  Towering at 7’3”, the Titan-blooded goblin was a presence that demanded attention. Few in the expedition could match her in size, save for the equally colossal “Big Bert.”

  At first gnce, Boarsyer hadn’t changed as drastically as Antchaser — always strong, always well-fed from her share of every hunt. But those who knew her best would say otherwise.

  She had never been one to shrink from the eyes of others. Once, she would have met them with open defiance, her gaze a mixture of arrogance and challenge. A warning that she was the strongest, and that those around her would do well to remember it. But now… now, her eyes held something else. Not submission. Not hesitation. But a sharp, calcuting awareness.

  Hers was no longer the gaze of a boastful alpha reveling in dominance. It was the watchful look of a seasoned hunter who understood that even the strongest could fall — that strength alone was not enough. And yet, there was no fear in that realization. Only certainty. She would meet whatever came, and she would not break.

  Even the way she moved had changed. Gone were the heavy, ground-shaking steps, the sheer force of her presence pressing against those around her like an unrelenting storm. Under Bert’s relentless — if sometimes unforgiving — tutege, raw power had been sharpened into something far more dangerous. Strength tempered with precision.

  Her vast strength had been honed from a crude club used to beat her enemies into submission, into a proper weapon that she was now learning to wield with true mastery.

  “I’d call you a fool if you tried.” Hugo’s voice carried a quiet certainty, his gaze steady on Boarsyer. “You’re powerful, Ms. Boarsyer. No one’s arguing that. But Magnus Ironheart… he’s something else entirely.”

  The ant-carapace armor he always wore these days gleamed under the room’s dim light, the segmented ptes giving him the appearance of something almost inhuman. “There’s a reason he’s still feared in Halirosa’s underground, even after being stuck at High-[Elemental Dominance] for decades.”

  Boarsyer turned her sharp eyes toward the former bandit, frowning. “Why are you here, again?” The question was less curiosity and more irritation, her expression twisting into a scowl, as if baffled that she even needed to ask.

  “He’s here,” Alpha interjected, his voice smooth and measured, “because I asked him to sit in on this meeting.”

  Boarsyer’s scowl deepened as she shifted her gaze to the rge silver ant at the head of the table. Alpha’s dark green peaked cap rested on his head as though defying the very ws of nature. Despite its growing obsolescence, he still used the same Alphantonso-V body he’d been piloting for some time. Not that he wouldn’t use the more advanced antborgs when and where needed, but the AI had kept this individual in reserve for meetings like this. Maybe he had grown a tad attached?

  A wrinkled hand patted Boarsyer’s massive arm, followed by a warm, knowing chuckle.

  “Don’t worry, dear. I’ve been training the boys well,” Dr. Maria said, her voice light with amusement. “They’re still a little rough around the edges, sure, but I promise you — they’re no threat to the vilge.”

  She tilted her head up at the towering goblin, grinning as she raised an eyebrow. “Or are you telling me you think old bandits can’t learn new tricks?”

  The movement seemed casual, almost absentminded, but it wasn’t lost on Boarsyer that the silver colr around Maria’s neck — subtle but unmistakable — was now fully visible. A reminder. A quiet challenge.

  Boarsyer’s jaw clenched. A muscle twitched beneath her eye. Then, with a sharp click of her tongue, she turned away.

  Alpha didn’t miss the faint blush dusting her cheeks. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his frame.

  Dr. Maria was, without a doubt, one of Alpha’s favorite people since arriving on this pnet — second only to a certain whale-puppy, of course. She had a gift for handling people, a skill that seemed almost effortless. Was it her decades of experience as a doctor? Or the sheer weight of decades spent navigating human nature? Alpha wasn’t sure.

  In fact, he wasn’t even certain how long she’d been around. Cultivators aged slowly as it was, but with her mastery over flesh, it wasn’t entirely out of the question that even her grandmotherly appearance was a carefully sculpted fa?ade designed to put her patients at ease and make her enemies underestimate her.

  When he’d finally thought to ask, she had only chuckled.

  “That’s a rude thing to ask an old woman, you know.”

  Alpha had let the matter drop after that. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t important — so long as Dr. Maria continued doing what she did best.

  “As for why I asked him to join us…” Alpha brought the discussion back on track, his voice smooth and deliberate. “Hugo here has the best understanding of our approaching ‘guests,’ having once been part of Icefinger’s gang.”

  Hugo chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t call myself an expert or anything. Wasn’t exactly high up in the ranks.”

  Then, like a shifting tide, his demeanor hardened. The unease in his posture faded, repced by a grim focus.

  “That said, I wasn’t expecting Icefinger to bring out so many of his heavy hitters for this,” he admitted, his brows knitting together. “Says a lot about what he thinks of this pce’s potential — he’s risking a serious chunk of his gang’s power in one move.”

  Hugo’s gaze swept over the gathered faces, locking eyes with each of them in turn.

  “I recognize some real monsters in that group. And I’ll be honest — if you’re relying on just the Adventurers to handle this? … It won’t be enough.”

  His expression grew distant for a moment, like he was looking at something only he could see.

  “Magnus in particur.” His voice dropped slightly, as if the name alone carried weight. “That man…” Hugo shook his head, like he was trying to shake loose some half-remembered horror. “Bosco was a menace. A bully. Ironheart? He’s the real deal.”

  Boarsyer narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. She wanted to scoff, to dismiss the warning outright — but instinct told her otherwise. Ignoring a credible warning? That would be foolish.

  Dr. Maria, for her part, merely nodded, her eyes closed as if in quiet agreement.

  Antchaser leaned forward, his expression unreadable. “What can you tell us about the man?”

  Hugo hesitated, exhaling a slow breath. “I could tell you more stories than we’ve got time for. Which ones are true, and which are just the fear-bloated rumors of backstreet ne’er-do-wells? Couldn’t say. The little guys don’t get close to him much. And if you do get a personal visit from Magnus… well, no one’s left to tell that tale.”

  He dragged a hand down his face, gathering his thoughts.

  “But one thing I do remember is that he had a habit of ‘trading pointers’ with some of the more ‘difficult’ to handle new recruits.” Hugo’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And we were required to watch. Not sure if it was meant as a lesson, a warning… or if that’s just how he got his rocks off.”

  A shiver ran through him, but he pushed forward.

  “These ‘sparring matches’ got messy. Real messy. And his way of fighting… it was off.” His fingers curled slightly, as if grasping for the right words. “At first, I thought he was just pressing down on them with spiritual pressure. But I’ve never seen spiritual pressure do that.”

  “That,” Dr. Maria interjected, her voice slicing through the heavy silence, “would be his Gravity Affinity.”

  Every eye snapped to the elderly doctor in surprise.

  Hugo blinked. “How the hell do you know that?”

  Dr. Maria chuckled, her grin edged with amusement. “Boy,” she said, raising an eyebrow, “who do you think patched up the poor bastards who survived his ‘lessons’?”

  A weighted silence settled over the room, the implications of her words sinking in.

  Alpha was the first to break it. “Thank you for your insight, Hugo,” the AI said, nodding to the armored man. Hugo gave a quick nod in return.

  “And you as well,” he added, turning to Dr. Maria. She smiled, the expression unreadable.

  Alpha’s antborg straightened, rising onto its two hind legs, folding its remaining arms behind its back — a posture requiring minor structural adjustments to achieve, but one the AI had found useful for situations like this. Its mechanical gaze swept the room.

  “Well, dies and gentlemen, we have a lot to go over,” Alpha said evenly, “but one thing is clear — we’ll need to adjust our original pn and take a more… proactive approach. Any suggestions?”

  Boarsyer’s ever-present scowl twisted into a wide, predatory grin.

  With a thud, she smmed her massive hands onto the table, the force rattling the cups and datapads scattered across it.

  “Plenty,” she almost purred.

  Boarsyer was still getting used to all this leading and pnning junk — all this ‘politicking’ nonsense they’d been doing for months.

  But hit things really hard?

  That was something she understood just fine.