The alien device rested on a rough wooden table inside the tent, its blue glow casting shifting shadows across the canvas walls. Lin Ze stood over it, his brow creased with concentration, staring at the pulsing symbols etched into its sleek surface. They twisted and shimmered, almost alive, daring him to unlock their meaning. Beside him, Mara paced restlessly, her scarred face tight with unease. “This could be a trap,” she warned, her voice a low growl. “Or worse—a signal calling more of them down on us.”

  Lin Ze didn’t answer immediately. His fingers hovered over the device, hesitating, while his other hand clutched the shard artifact—a jagged, glowing remnant of alien power that pulsed in time with his heartbeat. If Aya were here, she’d figure this out, he thought, her absence cutting deeper than the cold mountain air. But Aya was gone, her sacrifice still raw, and the weight of the camp’s survival pressed solely on him. He exhaled sharply, resolve hardening. “We need answers,” he said. “If this holds their secrets, we can’t afford to ignore it.”

  Mara stopped pacing, her dark eyes narrowing. “Then let’s hope that shard of yours can handle whatever’s inside.”

  With a nod, Lin Ze set the shard beside the device. The reaction was immediate—the shard’s faint light flared, and the device’s symbols blazed brighter, their glow weaving into the air to form a holographic map. Lin Ze’s breath caught. It depicted a trench, not the one they’d fought in before, but a deeper, more twisted labyrinth beneath the ocean floor. At its heart loomed a colossal structure, pulsing ominously—the titan’s core, larger and more menacing than anything they’d encountered.

  Mara leaned closer, her voice hushed. “Is this… their base?”

  “More than that,” Lin Ze murmured, his eyes tracing the hologram. “It’s where they’re awakening the titan.” The image shifted, revealing alien ships docking at the structure, unloading cargo—more devices, shards, and something far worse. Lin Ze’s gut twisted as he spotted human figures, bound and unconscious, dragged toward the core. “They’re using our people,” he said, his voice shaking with fury. “Fueling the titan with them.”

  Mara’s face drained of color. “We have to stop it. But how? We’re still licking our wounds from the last fight.”

  Lin Ze’s mind raced. The camp was battered, their numbers dwindling, yet the hologram’s message was clear: delay meant death. “We strike first,” he said. “Before they finish waking it.”

  Mara shook her head. “We’re not strong enough for a full assault. Not yet.”

  “Then we find a way in.” Lin Ze studied the map, searching for an edge. His eyes caught on a thin, shadowed line snaking toward the core’s base. “There,” he pointed. “A tunnel—maybe for maintenance. A small team could slip through, hit them from the inside.”

  Mara frowned, skeptical. “That’s a death trap. Even if we make it, they’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll lead it,” Lin Ze said, his jaw set. “The shard can cover us, like it did with the whale.” He glanced at the artifact, its light dim but steady. “It’s our best shot.”

  Mara held his gaze for a long moment, then sighed. “Fine. But we prep hard—scout it, train up. And we make damn sure this device isn’t bait.”

  Lin Ze agreed, though doubt gnawed at him. The map felt real, but the aliens were clever. What if it’s a trick? He shoved the thought down. Aya trusted me to lead. I won’t falter now.

  The camp buzzed with activity over the next few days. Lin Ze drove himself and the mountain folk through grueling drills in the dawn mist, forging them into a tighter unit—strike, retreat, survive. The shard stayed close, and he practiced bending small creatures to his will—rats skittering through the underbrush, birds wheeling overhead. Each victory sharpened his control, but Aya’s memory lingered, a quiet ache fueling his determination.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  One dusk, as the sun dipped behind the peaks, Lin Ze sat by the campfire, the shard’s glow reflecting in his tired eyes. A young scout interrupted his reverie, her face ashen. “Sir… you need to see this.”

  He followed her to the camp’s perimeter, where scouts clustered around a downed alien drone. Its scorched metal shell twitched, fighting to detonate. Lin Ze raised the shard, channeling its energy to disable it. With a final jerk, it stilled.

  The scouts cracked it open, revealing a small, glowing orb—eerily similar to the device, its symbols pulsing blue. “Communication,” Lin Ze realized. “Or control.”

  Mara arrived, her eyes widening. “Can we use it?”

  “Maybe.” Lin Ze hesitated, then nodded. “If I link the shard to it, I might tap their network—see what they’re planning.”

  The camp held its breath as he connected the shard to the orb. Energy crackled, the shard’s light merging with the orb’s glow. Lin Ze’s vision blurred, and he plunged into a digital abyss—alien code swirling, signals pulsing. The shard guided him, peeling back layers of encryption.

  A cold voice cut through: “Intruder detected. Initiating countermeasures.”

  Panic spiked. Lin Ze tried to retreat, but the connection gripped him. The network lashed out, its defenses swarming like a hive. He shielded his mind with the shard’s power, teeth gritted. I won’t be caught. With a final push, he broke free, collapsing as the orb sparked and died.

  Mara grabbed his arm. “What did you see?”

  “They’re… massing,” Lin Ze panted. “A convergence at the core. All their forces. We’re out of time.”

  At first light, the camp sprang into action. Lin Ze picked five of his best—scouts and fighters, including the young woman who’d found the drone. They armed themselves with spears, bows, and scavenged explosives. The shard hung around Lin Ze’s neck, its light a faint promise.

  They descended the mountain, the ocean stretching ahead, deceptively serene. Lin Ze led them to a hidden cove, where a rickety raft awaited—driftwood and salvaged steel lashed together. As they shoved off, the water slapped the hull, loud in the eerie quiet. Lin Ze kept his face steady, feeling the team’s eyes on him. They need me strong.

  The journey stretched on, the shard cutting through fog as they neared the trench—a black maw in the sea floor. Lin Ze signaled for their makeshift diving gear—salvaged suits, patched and crude. They slipped into the frigid water, the cold clawing through the fabric. Lin Ze dove first, the shard’s light piercing the gloom, illuminating twisted, glowing creatures warped by alien touch.

  They reached the tunnel—a tight slit in the trench wall. Lin Ze squeezed through, heart hammering, the slick walls humming with the core’s distant pulse. The team followed, silent, the ocean’s weight bearing down.

  A metallic clank froze them. Ahead, a guardian drone loomed, its tentacles coiling, blue eye scanning. Lin Ze signaled a halt. A fight would doom them—noise would bring the swarm. He gripped the shard, reaching for the drone’s mind. It resisted, alien and frigid, but he pushed harder, sweat mixing with the cold. The connection snapped, and the drone stilled, sliding aside.

  They slipped past, breathless, and pressed deeper. The tunnel opened into a small chamber, a console at its center flickering with alien symbols. Lin Ze approached, the shard illuminating the controls. “This is it,” he whispered. “The core’s heart.”

  The young scout edged forward. “Can you stop it?”

  “I think so.” Lin Ze pressed the shard to the console, its light merging with the screen. His vision blurred, pulling him into the system. He navigated the code, the shard his anchor, until he found the core’s power—a matrix fed by human lives. Rage surged, but he focused, rerouting the energy, slowing the titan’s pulse. The system fought back, but he held on, Aya’s face steadying him. For her.

  The flow reversed, and the core faltered. Lin Ze yanked free, gasping. “It’s destabilizing.”

  An alarm shrieked, red lights flaring. Drones clattered closer. “Move!” Mara’s voice crackled through the comms. They bolted, but a tentacle snared the young scout. Lin Ze lunged, spearing the drone, but it crushed her with a sickening snap.

  “Go!” she choked. “Finish it!”

  Grief clawed at him, but he ran, the team scrambling behind. They burst from the tunnel, swimming hard as the core’s collapse roiled the water. They breached the surface, piling onto the raft as Mara gunned it. The trench erupted, light and water exploding skyward, the stronghold crumbling.

  The young scout didn’t make it. Lin Ze stared back, Aya’s loss echoing in this new wound. How many more?

  Mara gripped his shoulder. “You did it. She didn’t die for nothing.”

  Lin Ze nodded, the shard’s dim glow heavy against his chest. The titan was stalled, not slain. The fight wasn’t over.