The blue code pulsed beneath Baiq’s skin, fading as the forge cooled into a dormant, humming block of metallic geometry. Bima stared at her, his grip tightening on the pipe.
"It knows my name?" Bima asked, his voice low.
"It’s not just a name," Baiq said, wiping her hand on her rags. "It’s a serial number. You’re part of the infrastructure, Bima."
"I’m a pilot, not a spare part," Bima snapped.
"Whatever you are, you’re currently starving," Unit 7 chimed in. "My sensors indicate Lalu is three seconds away from trying to eat your boots."
Lalu groaned, sitting up by the forge. "I heard that, you bucket of bolts. And for the record, the boots don’t look very appetizing."
Siti sat nearby, clutching her stomach. "Does the forge do breakfast? Because if not, I’m officially calling a strike."
"I’ve got one ration pack left," Bima said, reaching into his cargo pocket.
Lalu scrambled to his feet, eyes fixed on the silver foil. "Give it here. I’m the one bleeding out. I need the calories."
"You’re not the only one who skipped dinner, Lalu," Siti retorted, stepping between them. "I’ve been digging sand for six hours. Hand it over, Bima."
"Back off, both of you," Bima warned, holding the pack high.
"Oh, look," Unit 7 drawled. "The primitives are bickering over a calorie-dense brick. How evolutionary."
"Shut up, Seven," Bima gritted out.
"Make me," the AI retorted. "Or better yet, stop acting like a caveman and lead."
Lalu lunged, his hand snatching for the ration. Bima dodged, pivoting hard on the shifting dust. "I said back off!"
"I’m hungry, Bima! Just drop the damn pack!" Lalu roared, stumbling forward.
"I’m the Captain!" Bima shoved Lalu back. "And I say we split it."
"There’s nothing to split! It’s one bar!" Siti shouted, joining the fray. "Give it to me, or I swear I’ll bury you in the next trench."
Bima stepped back, his eyes flashing. "Fine. You want it? You want to prove you’re the strongest? Let’s settle this. No weapons. Just a contest."
"A contest?" Lalu wiped blood from his lip, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of contest?"
"A physical trial," Bima said, dropping his pipe. "First one to pin the other to the sand gets the ration."
"Pathetic," Baiq muttered, leaning against the forge. "You’re wasting energy you don't have."
"You’re just jealous because you don't have a ration pack," Unit 7 added. "Oh, wait. New notification. System Challenge: Moral Equilibrium. Objective: Make the Leader Laugh. Reward: High-Calorie Sustenance."
Bima froze, his stance breaking. "What? Make me laugh? Is this a joke?"
"The System doesn't joke, Bima. It just manipulates," Unit 7 said. "And apparently, you’re a hard man to amuse."
Siti tilted her head. "Wait. We have to make you laugh to get food?"
"Sounds like a sadistic game show," Lalu groaned, letting his arms drop.
"I’m not laughing," Bima said, crossing his arms. "I’m starving and I’m surrounded by idiots. Nobody’s getting a laugh."
"Try me," Siti said, stepping forward. She did a ridiculous, wobbly jig in the sand, flapping her arms like a dying bird. "Is this funny? Is this the pinnacle of comedy?"
"You look like you’re having a seizure," Bima said, his face stone-cold.
"My turn," Lalu said, pulling his face into a grotesque, lopsided grimace, cross-eyed and drooling slightly. "How about this? Does this scream 'King of the Sandbox'?"
"It screams 'needs medical attention'," Bima replied.
"This is going nowhere," Unit 7 noted. "Bima, you’re failing the challenge. Efficiency dropping. Hope you enjoy the taste of dust."
"I’m not laughing at your circus act, Seven!" Bima barked. He turned to pace, his frustration boiling over. He took a sharp step, his heel caught in a loose fold of the tarp they’d dragged over.
"Watch it," Baiq warned.
Bima’s feet tangled. He performed an involuntary, full-body pirouette in the air, his arms windmilling violently. He landed face-first into the pile of red sand with a muffled thwack, his legs kicking wildly in the air like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
Silence stretched across the desert, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the forge.
"Did you just..." Siti started, her shoulders shaking.
Lalu let out a choked sound. Then he burst into a wheezing, hysterical laugh. "You... you landed like a sack of scrap!"
Even Baiq cracked a smirk. Siti doubled over, clutching her sides. "That was... honestly the most graceful thing you’ve ever done, Captain."
Bima sat up, red sand caked in his eyebrows, looking utterly defeated. He looked at their laughing faces and felt the heat rise in his cheeks. He couldn't help it. A dry, rasping laugh escaped his throat.
"Fine," Bima chuckled, shaking his head. "That was objectively stupid."
"Challenge Complete," the System chimed, its voice vibrating in his skull. "Humor detected. Reward processing."
The obsidian pedestal suddenly groaned. The blue circuitry flared, and a compartment in the forge slid open. Inside, four vibrant, pulsing bundles of bioluminescent plant life sat glowing with a soft, neon-pink hue.
"Food?" Siti asked, reaching for one.
"Are you sure that’s edible?" Baiq asked, stepping closer to the forge.
Bima picked one up. It felt warm, throbbing slightly in his palm like a living heart. "It’s glowing, Siti."
"It’s either a feast or a terminal poisoning," Unit 7 remarked. "Either way, you’re not dying of starvation. Yet."
Bima took a tentative bite. The flavor was electric, like ozone and honey. As he swallowed, a warm wave of energy flooded his veins, repairing the exhaustion in his muscles.
"Well?" Lalu asked, staring at his own bundle.
"It tastes like... home," Bima whispered, looking at the pedestal. "But it’s not from Earth."
Suddenly, the pedestal’s projection flickered. The hologram of the ruined Earth vanished, replaced by a flickering map of the sector. A red dot blinked rapidly, miles away in the dunes—a signal.
"Someone’s calling for help," Baiq said, her eyes turning cold. "And they’re using a frequency that shouldn't exist anymore."
Latest Chapter
Chapter 59: The Cascading Threshold
"I'm trying to override the security protocol, but the system is fighting back!" Siti shrieked, her voice barely audible over the screech of tearing metal. "It’s like trying to rewrite a hurricane while standing in the eye of it, Bima! Stop looking at the door and help me stabilize the node!"Bima spun around, his pulse hammering against his temples like a trapped bird. "I can’t help you with the code, Siti! If I leave this spot, Lalu gets turned into scrap metal by whatever is pushing on that door!"Lalu let out a guttural, strained groan, his boots sliding backward an inch on the slick, oil-stained floor. "Don't you worry about me, you idiot! Keep your eyes on the hall! If one of those Error-Spawn gets past you, we’re all dead before the upload finishes!"A massive, serrated claw smashed through the upper portion of the bulkhead, the metal curling back like paper. A cascade of sparks sho
Chapter 58: The Architect’s Toll
The door buckled inward, a jagged piece of metal shrieking as the hinges surrendered. A heavy, rhythmic thud echoed through the corridor—the sound of mechanical hydraulics forcing their way into the room."Lalu, move!" Bima shouted, shoving his rifle into his shoulder. "They’re through the frame!"Lalu didn't move. He kept his shoulder pressed hard against the door, his teeth gritted. "If I move, they crush the console, Bima! Siti is one line of code away from locking the external hatch. Stay where you are and shoot whatever breaks the plane of that door!""There are too many of them," Bima hissed, peering through the gap as a robotic claw, slick with synthetic oil, scrabbled for purchase. "Siti, how much longer?"Siti’s fingers danced in a frantic, desperate rhythm across the haptic interface. Her eyes were wide, bloodshot, and fixed on a cascading waterfall of violet
Chapter 57: The Weight of Infinite Failure
"So, I’m just a recurring error? A recurring, breathing, thinking mistake meant to fix a broken house?" Bima’s voice cracked, sounding thinner than the air in the corridor. He looked at his hands, watching the faint blue glow of the serial code shimmering against his skin. It looked less like a mark of identity and more like a barcode on a perishable good.Siti didn't stop her frantic assault on the terminal. Sparks showered down from a frayed conduit overhead, illuminating the sweat beading on her forehead. "Don’t call yourself a mistake, Bima. Call yourself a bridge. A bridge that keeps collapsing, but a bridge nonetheless."Lalu let out a wet, rattling laugh, his back pressed against the door that was currently groaning under the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of the Error-Spawn bots on the other side. "A bridge? We’re more like a recursive loop of failure, girl. Every time we hit the transmitter, the mounta
Chapter 56: The Siege of Rinjani
"Look at the serial number, Bima," Siti commanded, her voice thin and sharp, cutting through the low-frequency hum of the disintegrating walls. "Look at the damn interface projection."Bima looked down at his own wrist. A flicker of blue light pulsed against his skin, projecting a string of alphanumeric characters that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. B-1M-A-0001."It’s a placeholder," Siti continued, not breaking her rhythm. "It’s not a designation. It’s an index. You aren’t a person; you’re the first iteration of the attempt to reconcile the system. Every time the mountain collapses, it reboots. And every time it reboots, it copies the previous version’s failure into the new core. You’re not just carrying the memory of your own death—you’re carrying the memory of every 'Bima' that tried to summit Rinjani and failed."Bima felt h
Chapter 55: The Echoes of a Thousand Bimas
"Stop," Bima barked, his voice raw. He dropped his rifle, the weapon clattering against the deck plates with a sound that felt too heavy, too real. "Lalu, shut your mouth. You keep saying that—'not the first version.' If you tell me this is a cycle, if you tell me I’ve died in this specific room a dozen times before, I am going to lose what’s left of my mind."Lalu looked up, his eyes glassy, framed by the flickering neon of a dying overhead light. He didn't look at Bima; he looked through him. "You think the pain in your chest is a heart condition, kid? It’s not. It’s a recurring memory leak. You remember the smell of burnt ozone and the way the sky looked right before the atmosphere turned to acid. You’ve been here. You’ve failed here. And every time you fail, the Archive resets the sector."Siti didn't stop typing, her fingers blurring across the console. The interface hissed, protes
Chapter 54: The Geometry of Regret
"The floor won’t turn into void, Bima," Siti snapped, her fingers dancing across the terminal with a frantic, rhythmic grace. "It turns into noise. It becomes static, data without context, a sea of zero-sum equations that will scour us down to our component base-codes. You’ve seen what happens to the bots that get caught in the folding zones. They don't die. They just… cease to be defined."Bima stared at the bulkhead. The metal was literally undulating now, like liquid mercury held in a tense, vibrating suspension. It was beautiful in a horrifying, terrifying way. He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest—a phantom pain of a memory he couldn't quite grasp. "I remember this," he whispered, his eyes wide. "I’ve seen this room collapse before. Not here. Not in this cycle."Lalu wheezed, shifting his weight. A sickening crunch of bone—or perhaps just a hardware failure—echoed through the cramped space. "You’ve seen it because you’ve lived it, kid. You’re not the first version of Bima to
You may also like

Project Kied - the Dark Child of War
Sigma Yaty 3.0K views
The Crimson Phoenix
Phoenix God5.0K views
The Search for Xanar
Cybermage90094.7K views
Mutants and Mutations
Mastermind 7.3K views
The Cursed: Legend of Neil
Veggie_Wolf1.4K views
World Rejector
Harusaki2.6K views
30 Days to Unmake a Monster
Maa_in1.6K views
Apocalypse: SSS-Rank Monster Breeder
Megawise655 views