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Chapter 3: The scent of survival
تاريخ النشر:
2026-05-21 23:45:49
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The Alpha Protocol Chapter 20: The silence after the storm
The sudden silence was adorable. After the sounding noise of the plasma drills, the ticking of the rifles and the mechanical circles of the Juggernauts felt the rest in the Command center almost ineffective. The green impulse was faded, but he had his guilt done. The whipmaker lay on the flawless ground. Without being cybernetic eye without the humming amplifiers in his suit and without his He was nothing more than an ordinary, broken man. He grabbed trembling after the dead plasma whip, but the handle remained cold. Kael slowly approached him. His heavy boots were crumbling on the shed. The whipmaker crawled back on his back, naked fear of death was written in his face. He expected the beast to tear him into pieces . He waited for the animal blood rush that he himself had for years Torture had provoked. But Kael didn't raise his hand. His green eyes were clear and calm. The murderous heat of the Apex was an ice-cold, human calculus. “You took everything I was from me,
The Alpha Protocol Chapter 19: The alpha signal
While Kael puts the Cyborgs in a brutal, metal-stripping near combat I ran. Plasma shots hit close to me in the ground, slender the white Steel and drove scouring stench into my lungs. I threw myself behind central, holographic control panel. “Authentication required for alpha protocol”, the AI reported calmly, unimpressed from End of the world around them. “Kael has granted authorization! He did the scan!" I cried the terminal while I was hectic about the red flashing warnings. ‘Secundary confirmation required. Physical input at the main relay necessary.’ A cylindrical, glass console went up from the middle of the table. Darin pulsated a pure, emerald green crystal cage. I raised my head. Kael had literally armored the first Juggernaut helmet torn off, but the second cyborg rammed him with his huge steel arm against one of the hydroponic cylinders. The glass splintered. Kael bleeded, but he laughed – a wild, freed laugh – while he puts his claws in the hydraulics of th
The Alpha Protocol Chapter 18: Dance of the Projectile
“Fire!” Kael grumbled. The deep grief of the kinetic rifles immediately overtoned the czech of the hostile Plasma weapons. The repulsion drove me a sharp pain into my shoulder, but I thought it was merciless. The plan worked perfectly. The blue energy shields of the rushing hounds flickered up uselessly as our heavy tungsten projectiles met them. My modified cartridges tore the Shields in a bright sparkling rain and slew the exoskeleton behind it effortless. The first wave of attackers literally collapsed in the air, yet before their boots touched the bottom of the bunker. Kael did not fire like a man – he shot with the mathematical, ice-cold Precision of the Apex. Every shot a deadly hit. He moved like a flowing shadows through the rain of the rocks, drew the fire, shielded me and unresolved. “Flanke left!” he called me. Three purifiers pushed through the dust and directed their heavy cannons on my Cover behind one of the control tables. I threw myself on the ground,
The Alpha Protocol Chapter 16: The Alpha Protocol
Freshly cleaned and in tight-fitting black kinetic suits of the Old World dressed – which we had found in the lockers of the station – we returned to the great Command Center back. The suit spanned over Kaels's massive muscles and made him look more than ever like a war god. The wild, black hair fell it now clean and slightly wavy in the neck. He approached the big holographic table. His hands suffered instinctively over the glass consoles, as if its muscles remember handles that are Forgot. “System report”, he ordered. His voice was calm and authoritarian. “Authorisation accepted”, replied the Mexican AI. The hologram of blue Earth changed. It turned red and yellow, showed the toxic storms and the black plasma scales of the consortium. “The Eden network is at 89 Percentage offline. The atmospheric toxins have exceeded critical levels.” “What was my last command before the contact broke off?” Kael asked quietly, almost hesitant. The hologram zoomed to sector Alpha. An o
The Alpha Protocol Chapter 15: The Shrine
Bright, pure white light flashed when we entered the huge hall. I had blink and lift protectively the arm. When my eyes got used to the brightness, it got my breath. Before we were the absolute technological miracle. No tight, rusty cages like in sector Omega. No dirty junk mountains as in sector 4. A gigantic, immaculate command center stretched in front of us. In the middle a holographic globe – the earth, unharmed and blue, not of toxic clouds covered. Along the walls glass, liquid-filled Cylinders in which tiny, luminous spores float in a kind of deep sleep seemed. “This is a terraforming bunker,” I realized and slowly went to the cylinders. “The consortium burned the earth, but the old ones have the seed down here for a new world kept.” Kael had stopped. He looked around in the sterile, clean environment. His eyes fell on his own, blood and mud-worn hands, on the recruited Rests of fungal paste and black claws on his fingers. He went back a step, almost as if he w
The Alpha Protocol Chapter 14: The Echo of the Past
The tunnel swallowed the noise of the Toxic channel with every step we take made deeper into the interior of the earth. It was like we were running through the veins of a sleeping titan. The walls no longer consisted of moist, unhauled rock, but of seamless, matte poly steel, which, even after centuries in the underground, neither rust nor Destroyed. It wasn't a consortium technology. The consortium built klobig, raw and designed for plasma burning. This was elegant. It was meant for eternity. Kael went close to me, his massive body tensioned, the senses on the absolute Maximum sharpened. His bright green eyes penetrated the absolute Difficult while I'm focused on his warmth. He had my hand in his hand and kept them safe. “The air changes,” he suddenly whispered and stopped. I breathed deeply. He was right. The scouring stench after sulfur and destruction faded. Instead, it smelled nothing. After pure, cooler, unfiltered Empty. “An airlock,” I concluded, and my scrap c
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