As they approached the planet, the controls suddenly locked up. The ship lurched slightly, and warning lights flickered across the console.
Spam's fingers flew over the manual overrides, but nothing responded.
"Uh, this isn't good," Paps muttered, voice tight with restrained panic.
"Broadbill, come in."
The radio crackled to life.
"Broadbill, this is Stargaze. Do you read?"
Spam hit the comms button. "Stargaze, this is Broadbill. We're locked out—manual only."
"Copy that. Initiate Remote Operations Procedure."
Spam glanced at Paps, who hesitated before giving a reluctant nod. With a deep breath, Spam flipped a switch, then pressed a sequence of buttons. Another switch. Another button. The console responded this time, systems aligning with an external signal.
The ship's descent steadied, and a few minutes later, it touched down smoothly.
Outside, a small welcoming party was already waiting. As the airlock hissed open, warm air rushed in, carrying the distinct scent of something tropical.
A woman stepped forward as they descended the ramp. "Welcome to Selee. I'm Shorna."
She wasted no time explaining. Their ship had been remotely docked due to its classification—Broadbill was a fighter, and Selee had strict policies about manual landings for military-grade vessels.
Shorna handed them a flyer. One glance was enough to confirm it: they were in the right place.
Selee had branded itself as the vacation destination for lovers of extreme sports.
As they walked, attendants in sleek uniforms handed them drinks. The liquid was cool and slightly fizzy, with a tangy aftertaste.
After a brief rundown of what to expect, Shorna pulled out a small device and handed it to Spam.
Spam barely spared it a glance. "Not my area of expertise."
Without hesitation, he passed it to Emac, who tapped a few keys, studied the screen, then handed it back to Shorna with a satisfied nod.
They were shown to their room—a penthouse perched on the peak of a mountain. From their balcony, they could see the jungle stretching endlessly below, a sea of lush green. On the opposite side, the coastline curved beautifully, waves rolling onto white sands.
After unpacking, they checked their itinerary. First up: the Sky Bridge Tour.
The six penthouses were connected by glass bridges, forming a pentagon in the sky. Walking across them, the transparent floors gave an illusion of floating above the world.
"Do you think I'd survive a dive into the pool?" Naté mused, eyeing the shimmering water in the center courtyard far below.
Adam snorted. "Not without a medic on standby."
They continued checking off activities until they reached the beach.
The moment they stepped onto the sand, they felt it—a strange pulse, a hum in the air that seemed to come from the ocean. The sensation was subtle but undeniable. They exchanged glances. It wasn't the time to investigate, not with the beach full of tourists, but they silently agreed to return later when it was emptier.
For now, they split up.
Naté spotted a group preparing for hang gliding and joined them. Adam stayed behind, watching surfers carve through waves. Paps headed back to the penthouse to rest, while Emac wandered off to explore more of Selee.
No one knew what had become of Spam.
"You want to learn?"
The voice was smooth, unmistakably feminine. Adam turned to find a young woman with olive skin and silver hair—just like all the native Seleens.
"No, I'm fine," he said.
She smiled knowingly. After a little persuasion, he gave in.
Before letting him into the water, she had him stand at the shore, waiting for the waves to wash over his feet.
When he asked why, she responded with an old idiom. He forgot the exact words the moment she said them, but he understood the meaning well enough.
Staying in the shallows, Adam practiced paddling. Within an hour, he was riding his first small waves.
As the sun dipped lower, the girl bid him farewell and left.
Moments later, the Creed arrived. They waded into the water, but the instant they entered, something strange happened.
The others were suddenly thrown from the sea, flung like rag dolls onto the shore.
They regrouped and tried again, but a massive wave slammed into them, forcing them out once more.
Adam narrowed his eyes. He remembered the ritual.
They returned to the shoreline and stood there, letting the waves wash over their feet. For nearly an hour, they waited.
Only then did they step into the sea.
This time, nothing pushed them back.
They swam deeper, moving toward the source of the energy. The closer they got, the stronger it pulsed beneath the surface. Then—
A whirlpool erupted.
The water spiraled downward, threatening to drag them into its maw. Fighting against the current, they barely managed to escape.
Regrouping, they began hatching a plan to deal with the strange energy. But before they could act, something changed.
The sea recoiled.
The gathered water lifted unnaturally, swirling upward. It took shape, forming into a colossal woman—a towering figure of liquid, easily 80 feet tall.
Spam didn't hesitate. He hurled a pair of knives at the creature, then pulled out a sword, gripping it in both hands before duplicating it, summoning a second blade into his grip. He lunged, slashing through the watery form, but it had no effect.
The water woman struck back, her enormous hand crashing down. Spam barely had time to react before he was caught, trapped in her massive palm.
He gritted his teeth, then split himself into multiple clones. The copies struggled against the surface tension of the water until they finally burst free.
Paps followed up with a devastating punch, blasting a hole through the creature's midsection.
A gasp rippled through the crowd on the beach.
"No! Mother Selee!"
Adam turned. A group of Seleens had gathered, their expressions a mixture of horror and rage. Among them was Page—the girl who had taught him to surf.
They didn't hesitate. Objects flew through the air—bottles, stones, anything the crowd could throw—to stop the group from attacking Mother Selee.
"Naté, Adam—handle it," Paps ordered.
Naté released his two splits, Pry and Ide, who moved to hold the crowd back.
Then, chaos erupted.
Someone lunged forward, stabbing Naté with a fork. He flinched, striking Page harder than intended.
She collapsed.
Adam rushed to her side, but it was already too late.
And then—
She gasped, eyes snapping open.
She was alive again.
Somehow, impossibly, she had returned.
But instead of relief, the crowd's anger intensified.
More Seleens charged, swarming them.
Naté's patience snapped. He grabbed the nearest attacker, twisting their head until it snapped. Then another. Then another.
Adam's stomach turned. "What are you doing?"
"It's not like they're gonna stay dead," Naté said flatly.
Adam hesitated, then followed his lead.
Emac, Spam, and Paps kept fighting Mother Selee, their attacks relentless. But then, without warning, a massive tsunami crashed through the city, toppling buildings in its wake. As the waters receded, something strange happened—the bodies of those Nate and Adam had killed stopped rising. The endless cycle of resurrection had been broken.
Adam barely had time to process it before he caught sight of something—a figure made of smoke, its shape flickering like a shadow in the wind. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, it was gone.
In stunned silence, Nate and Adam stood among the lifeless bodies. The battlefield, once filled with the groans of the resurrected, had fallen eerily quiet. Most of the survivors fled, but some remained, mourning the dead.
Spam, Paps, and Emac exchanged glances. They had fought with everything they had, yet none of them truly understood how they had defeated Mother Selee. After a while, they decided not to question it.
As they left, the citizens jeered at them, their voices a mix of anger and contempt.
"Banza," their hostess muttered as they boarded their spaceship.
Adam didn't understand the word, but he knew its meaning in a different way. He had heard stories—tales of warriors reviled wherever they went. He had expected hostility, but not like this. This was deeper. It wasn't just anger. It was rejection.
He clenched his fists.
Had he even helped them at all?
The engines hummed to life. Without another word, they lifted off, leaving the planet behind.