"He stood there for a good two minutes, eventually letting out a long sigh before muttering under his breath, 'It seems even Halo Prime wasn't spared from ferocious beasts in ancient times. Perhaps it encountered some dreadful catastrophe that led to the decline of this planet.'
The explanation sounded plausible, yet somehow off to him. Shaking his head, he decided not to delve any deeper.
Summoning courage, he took bold strides forward and felt the massive, rugged limbs of the creature, confirming its lifelessness. He promptly climbed onto the carcass to inspect what could have felled such a colossal creature.
More intriguing than this peculiar extinct creature was the mysterious metal hidden within. Covered in layers of dust for centuries, the cylinder remained as pristine as ever, over twenty centimeters thick.
Its sleek, shimmering surface offered no clue to its nature. Crouching down, he wrapped his arms around the fifty-centimeter-wide column, braced himself, and exerted a forceful lift!
But..."
"Enough time had passed for the wounds around the object to calcify. It slid out effortlessly, and with too much force, he lost balance, staggering back several steps. Then, from a ten-meter height, he plummeted, still clutching the two-hundred-kilogram cylinder.
As he and the cylinder collided with the unforgiving rock below, the armor he wore provided little protection.
"Crack!" His chest plate caved in deeply.
His eyes darted around, and after a few moments, he finally uttered two words, "Oh... Ley...li..."
It took immense effort for him to shove the cylinder aside and sit up, panting. He lit a cigarette and dragged the metallic object closer for inspection, his face a mask of bewilderment. "This... this looks like an arm!"
Indeed—it was a 2.7-meter-long mechanical forearm clenched into a fist. Its metallic surface even mimicked muscular contours.
Wilkins examined the break and found it cleanly sheared, not twisted.
More perplexing was that while it was clearly mechanical, it didn't resemble any mech components Wilkins knew of. As far as he knew, no one could replicate human anatomy so ingeniously.
After a moment's contemplation, he rose and commanded, "Armor, disengage."
The suit's backplate and limb sections split open. Wilkins stepped out, unprotected, and sat atop the arm again, tapping on the data pad at his wrist. "Data pad, render image," he ordered gruffly.
A 3D image of the limb appeared. "Zoom in, twice," Wilkins said, his gaze drawn to the intricate markings embellishing it. "Alien script?"
"After deactivating the device, he scratched his head and lifted the cylinder. Wondering if his telepathic abilities could penetrate the metal to study its internal structure, he extended his thoughts toward it.
Upon contact, the etchings glowed, swiftly spreading luminescence across the entire surface. What shocked Wilkins was his mental energy being voraciously drained.
If completely drained, he'd be reduced to a vegetative state. He tried to let go, but the arm clung to him desperately, like a starving infant intent on sapping his vitality.
Wilkins rolled his eyes, gaping, and half a minute later, he keeled over—completely unconscious.
Thankfully, at the moment Wilkins passed out, the arm seemed to absorb enough basic energy to activate. It flashed intensely, severing the psychic connection, then fell to the ground.
Merely minutes later, the peculiar 2.7-meter limb began rapidly folding, shrinking. As it compressed, the clenched fist opened, revealing a deep purple sphere the size of an ostrich egg, gently landing on Wilkins' skin.
For reasons unknown, the sphere assimilated into his arm and exploded internally. A 30-centimeter-long, deep crimson catfish emerged, glanced around, then flew off, burrowing deeply into ancient fossils, leaving no trace behind.
Strangely, as the purple sphere vanished, it emitted a matching mist. Instead of dispersing, the gases swiftly condensed around Wilkins' head, then, as he breathed, rushed into his lungs, merging with his bloodstream."
"As his heart pounded, steam flowed within him, permeating through his body and into his brain. Then, a thunderous burst surged through his mind. Apparently, it conveyed a peculiar vibrational pattern, as resonance between the particles quickly filled his body, generating a strange energy, spinning faster.
Wilkins plunged into a deep numbness, whimpering, convulsing uncontrollably. It seemed as if swarms of active mice scurried across his skin, burrowing beneath the surface—they awakened, muscles and veins collapsing, then swelling anew. Each collapse and revival miraculously rebuilt nerves, tissues, veins, and bones.
As his body continued to strengthen, not only did muscles bulk up, but shattered ribs and severely burned skin also repaired, though in agonizing spasms he had forgotten.
But the mysterious transformation wasn't complete. As if a foundation had been laid, copious gene fragments surged from an unknown repository within him, integrating into his DNA. Furthermore, matching segments underwent automatic self-comparison, with superior versions replacing inferior ones after precise analysis.
Simultaneously, as his genes altered, waves of psychic rings surged rapidly from his mind, swirling around the fossil, forming a vortex. As it formed, something was torn off the organism, absorbed into the funnel, then back into Wilkins' brain.
These additives reinforced the strange vibrations upgrading internally. Within less than two hours, it reached a climax, a new plateau elevating both body and will.
Yet, amidst this protracted process, the mechanical arm quietly commenced its own peculiar maneuver, somehow folding itself into a miniature snake within seconds.
The serpent coiled overhead before darting into a tunnel at nearly forty kilometers per hour. After covering six to seven kilometers, it encountered an obstruction, a pile of rocks completely blocking the narrow passage.
It briefly circled, eyes glowing blue, mouth agape. A slender beam of light shot forth, instantly disintegrating the obstructing stones like snow under the noonday sun, clearing the path."
"The miniature snake cleared debris during its flight and soon emerged on the tumultuous surface of the planet. A creature-beast lurked nearby, but the tiny snake paid it no heed, merely coiling around without any reaction.
After about thirty minutes, the snake suddenly spoke. 'Voice system download complete... Selecting language for optimal communication... Accessing network to ascertain the current status of Cottin IV... Oh dear, this network here is too antiquated!'
The creature-beast was roused by the voice, turning its massive head back to see the pest-sized annoyance on its back. It didn't hesitate, lunging and snapping at it.
'A trifling nuisance dares to interrupt my work!' the snake hissed icily.
As it surged into the beast's enormous stomach, its metallic form seemed to blur. Then, something astonishing happened—its body rapidly accelerated folding, expanding over two meters in mere seconds.
The already massive jaw of the beast was pried impossibly wide, yet still couldn't contain the swelling inside. Tears streamed down its face from the agony, but it couldn't even scream.
Moments later, its skull emitted a nauseating crack before bursting entirely. Wilkins' team had to engage in intense combat to take it down, while the tiny snake was effortlessly felled.
The shrunken snake didn't spare a glance at the horrific wreckage but continued gathering data on the corpse. After over forty minutes, its task completed, the little automaton stood up, rotated, then floated back along the tunnel—surveying the walls, lamenting its plight.
"God, bothersome, useless scrap metal here... Not even a microbe useful to me! Oh, dear, what misfortune! Is this entire planet just rubbish? How am I to survive?"
It flew for three to four kilometers without finding anything valuable. However, passing through a crevice, it suddenly halted, probing inside with an intense beam of light. Thirty seconds later, it exclaimed joyfully.
"Aha, vanadium! Marvelous! Finally, some DNA enhancement."