《Echoes of Tala》


 Lore/Prolog

    Somewhere in the universe.


    *Half a decade ago*, an unidentified meteor shower struck the ocean of Planet Tala, unleashing a hazardous mutated virus that eradicated half of the population across all species of the planet. This event caused unusual alterations in the remaining population.


    Over just a few years, 90% of the animals experienced mutations that made them more resilient, while humans only saw a slight increase in lifespan and adaptability to harsh conditions. Later studies revealed that the virus seemed to benefit non-human organisms more than humans, leaving humanity vulnerable.


    Fear and chaos swept through society as the environment rapidly changed. On both land and sea, new species emerged alongside mutants with mysterious abilities that grew stronger over time. Every few years, the appearance of new creatures, carnivorous plants, oversized insects, and other dangerous life forms made survival increasingly difficult for humans, pushing civilization toward collapse.


    As the mutated creatures grew stronger and more numerous, global leaders instituted martial law. They collaborated to address the escalating threat, working to figure out how to defend humanity from these mutated monsters. Reports from military satellites and intelligence agencies showed a concerning rise in both the size and population of monsters across the globe. Scientists warned that if this trend continued, human weaponry would become obsolete, leaving humanity defenseless against the overwhelming monster threat.


    In response, world leaders united to form *HOPE* (Humankind Outstanding People of Excellence)¡ªa global organization composed of the greatest minds in science. This unity marked a critical moment in human history, as the brightest thinkers came together to secure humanity¡¯s future.


    HOPE¡¯s initial goal was to study the monsters'' evolution, discover their weaknesses, and search for ways to benefit humanity from these transformations. Alongside, military forces from around the world defended cities and citizens. A specialized team, called the *SENTINELS*, was formed. This coalition, made up of the top military and hunter units from various nations, was tasked with capturing and studying the monsters, as well as protecting humanity¡¯s dwindling resources.


    During their studies, HOPE scientists discovered a small, almost transparent crystal organ inside the hearts of these monsters. They named this organ the *Crystal CORE* (Cellular Organism Root Evolver). The CORE was found to be the catalyst for the monsters¡¯ accelerated evolution. Through further analysis, scientists discovered that the CORE contained extraterrestrial proteins capable of constructing new strengthening peptides within the DNA of these creatures.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    The CORE not only enhanced the monsters'' physical capabilities but also protected them from environmental hazards, fueling rapid development. Scientists feared this could give rise to a new intelligent species within a few hundred years, posing an even greater threat to humanity.


    As the monsters grew stronger and began encroaching on human settlements, HOPE scientists embarked on a new mission: to harness the power of the Crystal CORE for human benefit. They launched *Project Rebirth Operation System*, aiming to fuse the CORE with human biology to give humans enhanced abilities that would allow them to survive in the changed environment.


    Years of research and trials followed, with many initial failures. Countless test subjects did not survive the process. However, the scientists pressed on, using each failure as an opportunity to learn. After several years of tireless effort, they achieved their first success: the fusion of a Crystal CORE with a human heart. This subject, dubbed *Subject Zero*, marked the breakthrough HOPE had been seeking.


    Subject Zero was put through extensive testing, with scientists monitoring the changes brought about by the fusion. Data from these experiments showed that the Crystal CORE, when fully fused with a human, could gradually enhance physical strength and unlock unique abilities.


    Despite the success, the fusion process remained risky, with only a 70% survival rate. Yet, this milestone provided humanity with a glimmer of hope. With this new knowledge, the global alliance began preparing for an inevitable confrontation with the mutated creatures, hoping to stem the tide of destruction.


    As the Crystal CORE technology advanced, humanity began to build a new breed of soldiers, capable of standing toe-to-toe with the monsters that had once threatened their extinction. HOPE¡¯s continued efforts to refine the fusion process and train these new soldiers signaled the beginning of humanity¡¯s counterattack¡ªa rise from the brink of collapse.


    The *Global Alliance* now stands ready to lead humanity into a new era of survival, where the power of the Crystal CORE and the resilience of the human spirit will determine the outcome of this battle for existence. Though the fight against natural selection is far from over, the dawn of a new chapter for humanity has arrived.


    Armed with their new found knowledge and weapons, life on Planet Tala had become more stable. 500 years later, Global Alliance was able to set up a safe places for humankind to live and areas to train the new generation. New advancement in Robotics, Genetic Science, Artificial Intelligence, Engineering and much more.


    Planet Tala is huge Planet that could fit two Jupiter inside it. But now almost 7% of Planet Tala is safely occupied by human race. The battle is on going and the war will soon to come. As for now long a species can last? only time can tell.


    Racial Demographic of the world:


    Current numbers: 8 Billion people.


    Archan = Caucasian. 10%


    Hakzhu = Middle Eastern. 5%


    Kunawas = Pacific Islanders. 1%


    Mahtim = African. 14%


    Sudhin = East Indian. 16.6%


    Theon = Latin. 8.14%


    Whulin = Oriental. 45%


    [Beasts] = animals of all types including insects.


    Monsters = Human like beasts.


    [Mutated] = A product of failed evolution, turning then feral but does not attack own kind.


    [Evolved] = Stronger version of their previous race just a little bigger more powerful and smarter.


    [Alpha] = Leaders of their own pack and can intimidate other lower level creatures.

 Ch. 1 (Her Lullaby, My Solace)

    The night pressed heavy on the land, the wind carrying an eerie stillness through the endless mounds of Mount Trashmore. Over heaps of abandoned debris, artifacts from a forgotten era, as shadows danced. Amidst this emptiness, a lone woman stumbled ahead, her body shaking with fatigue and her unsteady steps.


    Her clothes clung to her thin frame, torn and stained, little more than rags. Her hair hung in wild tangles, framing a face etched with years of neglect and despair. Once, there might have been light in her eyes, a spark of life, but now they darted frantically, wide with fear and confusion.


    She hugged her swollen belly, her breathing catching with every wave of pain coursing through her. She ground her teeth, sinking onto her knees on top of a heap of debris, jagged edges of shattered glass and rusted metal pressed within her palms. Hours passed as she struggled against the agony, her cries lost to the wide emptiness surrounding her.


    Then, with one final wrenching scream, the air was split by a new sound, the piercing cry of a newborn.


    The woman stared at the baby in her trembling hands, her breaths shallow and uneven. The baby wailed, small fists shaking against the cold night air. For a moment, her face softened, her lips parting as if to say something. Her hands moved instinctively, cradling him closer to her chest.


    ¡°Shh,¡± she murmured, her voice hardly perceptible, trembling from the burden of tiredness. Her eyes flicked about, probing the shadows as if something could suddenly spring out at her. ¡°Be quiet now, or we¡¯ll get in trouble. They¡¯re watching¡­ they¡¯re always watching.¡±


    The baby cried louder, his voice cutting through the silence like shattered glass. She winced, clutching her head as though the sound were clawing at her very soul. Her whispers grew frantic.


    ¡°Stop it. Please, stop,¡± she hissed, her voice shaking. ¡°I can¡¯t, I can¡¯t do this.¡±


    Her hands trembled violently as she bit through the umbilical cord, her teeth scraping against it with a grim determination. Placing the baby down on the mound of trash, she stumbled back, her face twisted with something between guilt and fear.


    ¡°The trash will keep you safe,¡± she muttered, her words a frenzied chant. ¡°It keeps everything safe. It keeps secrets. This is better. It¡¯s better this way.¡±


    The baby¡¯s cries grew fainter as she backed away, her bare feet crunching over the debris beneath her. Tears streaked her face, but she didn¡¯t stop. She turned and fled into the shadows, her sobs and laughter echoing faintly in the distance.


    -----


    Hours later, Laurie Grimwald climbed the same mound of trash, the dim light of dawn casting her shadow over the debris. She moved with practiced ease, her sharp eyes scanning for anything salvageable, metal, glass, fabric, anything she could trade for a few coins.


    Life hadn¡¯t been kind to Laurie. Once, she¡¯d dreamed of more, of becoming an evolver and finding her place in the world. But dreams didn¡¯t feed you, and society wasn¡¯t interested in giving chances to someone poor, plain, and unwanted. She had learned to survive in the margins, scavenging from the world¡¯s leftovers and making what little she could.


    As she sifted through the trash, a sound stopped her cold, a faint cry, weak but unmistakable. She straightened, her heart pounding as she turned toward the noise.


    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± she whispered to herself, her voice trailing off as she hurried toward the sound.


    The sight of him took her breath away. The infant rested on a heap of trash, his tiny frame trembling, his screams raspy from fatigue. Laurie''s hands dashed to her mouth, and for a brief moment, she remained motionless, unable to comprehend what she was witnessing.


    "Oh, you dear thing," she eventually murmured, her voice trembling as she sank to her knees. She extended her arms and lifted the baby into her embrace, her rough hands surprisingly tender. He was so petite, so delicate, and his little face was marked with dirt.


    ¡°Who could do this to you?¡± she whispered, her voice breaking.


    The infant whined, his wails diminishing as Laurie held him tightly. Without hesitation, she started to hum a gentle, recognizable melody, one that her mother had sung to her during her childhood. The melody spilled from her lips instinctively, wrapping them both in its warmth.


    ¡°There, there,¡± she murmured, swaying gently as the baby¡¯s sobs turned to quiet sniffles.


    For years, Laurie¡¯s life had been defined by rejection and survival. She had learned not to hope for more, not to expect kindness or purpose. But now, holding this baby boy in her arms, she felt something she hadn¡¯t allowed herself to feel in a long time.


    ¡°I¡¯ll call you Nix,¡± she said softly, her voice thick with emotion. ¡°Like the night, dark but full of light and mystery.¡±


    Bundling him in her scavenged shawl, Laurie began the long climb back to her home atop Mount Trashmore.


    The sky hung low, smeared with the residue of an era long gone, where nature fought to reclaim a world ravaged by human greed. Among the towering mounds of waste, hidden high on Mount Trashmore, a makeshift home stood. It was barely more than a cave, but it provided shelter, warmth, and a place filled with memories.


    Inside, the walls of the cave were patched with salvaged metal and wood, forming a fragile barrier against the elements. Bundles of fabric and blankets created a modest sleeping area, while makeshift shelves held tools, containers, and the wigs Laurie crafted from discarded hair. A small fire pit cast a flickering glow, warming the space and banishing the chill that crept in from outside.


    Laurie laid the baby down on her bed, wrapping him snugly in her thickest blanket. She sat beside him, her gaze soft as she watched his tiny chest rise and fall with each breath.


    For years she had fought for herself and nothing more, barely surviving on resilience and determination. Now, she had something to fight for other than just survival.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, little Nix,¡± she whispered, brushing a finger gently over his cheek. ¡°You¡¯re safe now. I¡¯ll take care of you.¡±


    She began to hum the lullaby again, the melody filling the small cave with a warmth that seemed almost out of place in the wasteland outside. For the first time in years, Laurie felt a fragile but persistent hope. In this tiny child, she had found a light worth protecting.


    ---


    Sixteen years later, Nix had become strong from years of climbing the treacherous terrain of Trash Mountain. He had his grandmother¡¯s perseverance but carried a different kind of longing in his heart. Whenever they ventured into town to sell Laurie¡¯s wigs or trade recyclables, Nix would see children his age with bright, shiny toys, toys bought by loving parents, with money and comfort he could only imagine. But Nix was not one to wallow in jealousy. He had learned from Laurie that if life didn¡¯t give you what you wanted, you made it yourself.


    One afternoon, as the sun set behind the distant skyscrapers of waste, Nix sat outside their cave-home, his hands busy assembling his latest project. Scattered around him were discarded metal scraps, bits of wire, and pieces of broken plastic. His latest creation was a makeshift slingshot, its handle carved from a sturdy tree branch he¡¯d found near the mountain¡¯s base. It wasn¡¯t much, but it worked, and that was enough.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    He glanced toward the other corner of their small home where a simple trap lay, designed to catch small animals. He had been working on it for weeks, tweaking the mechanism to ensure it would catch something they could eat. Fish, birds, or even a mutated rodent, anything to lighten the burden on Laurie. Life was difficult enough without having to worry about food. Laurie always said that, in this post-apocalyptic world, people survived only by adapting. Nix had taken that lesson to heart.


    ¡°Done with that toy, boy?¡± Laurie¡¯s voice broke through the evening quiet. She stepped out from the cave, wiping her hands on her scavenging clothes, a patchwork of fabrics meant more for practicality than appearance.


    ¡°Yeah, Granny. It works, see?¡± Nix showed off his slingshot, pulling back the elastic strap and releasing it, sending a small stone flying into the air. It wasn¡¯t just about making toys for fun. His creations often served a purpose, whether for defense, survival, or just to ease their hard lives.


    Laurie chuckled, though her voice was tired. ¡°You always did have a way of making things out of nothin¡¯. Better than those store-bought toys anyhow.¡±


    Nix smiled, but the envy still lingered beneath the surface. He didn¡¯t resent the life they had, but sometimes, he couldn¡¯t help but dream of more. Yet whenever he felt that way, he reminded himself of what Laurie had taught him: if you want more, you have to work for it.


    As the evening crept in and the stars began to blink in the polluted sky, Laurie prepared a simple dinner. Tonight, it was a stew made from scavenged vegetables and the remains of a bird they had trapped earlier that week. Nix¡¯s handmade traps had been a small blessing in their lives, catching food in a world where survival was uncertain. He watched as Laurie ladled the stew into two worn bowls, her face lined with the years of struggle and sacrifice.


    ¡°Granny, one day I¡¯m gonna make sure we don¡¯t have to live like this,¡± Nix said suddenly, his voice determined.


    Laurie looked up, her eyes soft but full of wisdom. ¡°You¡¯re already doin¡¯ that, Nix. Every time you make somethin¡¯ outta nothin¡¯, every time you help us catch food or fix somethin¡¯ broken, you¡¯re buildin¡¯ a better life. We don¡¯t need to be rich or fancy. We just need to survive, and you¡¯re doin¡¯ that better than most.¡±


    Nix nodded, though deep down he knew he wanted more than just survival. He wanted to live, to thrive in a world where he wasn''t defined by the garbage with which he''d grown up. For now, it might be very, very distant, and all he knew was to construct and build, toys and traps and a life all one could hope for


    As the night deepened and they sat in the glow of their makeshift fire, Nix looked out over the expanse of Mount Trashmore. Somewhere out there, in the ruins of the old world, lay the future he''d create for himself and Laurie. That wasn''t going to be easy, but if there was one thing he knew, it was that hard work could take even the most broken things and make them whole. For now, that would be enough.


    The next morning, Nix woke up with the first rays of sunlight filtering through the cracked window of their small home. He quickly washed up and returned to his cramped space, barely large enough for his single bed and a narrow strip of floor to walk on. He slipped into his clothes, practical for scavenging, but still neatly kept, a quiet tribute to Laurie¡¯s teachings of pride even in poverty.


    As Nix stepped outside, a determined expression set on his face. He walked over to his trusty scooter, "Scootie," a patchwork vehicle he''d pieced together from parts scavenged at the junk graveyard near the foot of the trash mountain. He patted it affectionately. "Alright, Scootie, let''s get to work," he muttered with a smile. He had made sure Scootie was in top shape, always keeping it well-maintained to avoid any breakdowns. The scooter could go as fast as 30 km/h, perfect for the 15 km distance ride to the nearest trade station.


    After the train ride, he arrived at the school station and hopped back on Scootie for the final leg, another 10 minutes to school. As he approached the familiar alleyway near the school, his path was blocked by a group of teenagers wearing clothes that screamed trouble, leather jackets, oversized chains, and arrogant smirks plastered on their faces. These were his regular bullies.


    ¡°Well, well, look who decided to show up today,¡± the tallest of the group, Jared, sneered. He stepped forward, blocking Nix¡¯s way, while the others closed in. ¡°Got anything good for us today, trash boy?¡±


    Nix¡¯s grip tightened on his scooter¡¯s handlebars, but he stayed silent. He knew better than to talk back. These kids had parents with money and influence, parents who could easily shield them from any consequences. He had tried going to the police once, at Laurie¡¯s insistence, but all it had done was earn him a day of false hope before the group came back for revenge, angrier than ever.


    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there,¡± another boy said, snatching Nix¡¯s lunch box from the basket on Scootie. ¡°What¡¯s for lunch today? Granny¡¯s famous trash stew?¡± The group erupted into laughter, their taunts cutting deeper than the bruises they left.


    Nix clenched his fists, his knuckles white with restraint. He couldn¡¯t afford to fight back. Not after what had happened the last time. The memory of Laurie lying unconscious after trying to stand up to these bullies was burned into his mind. That day had changed everything.


    Laurie¡¯s coma had been a devastating blow. Without the money for proper medical care, Nix had been forced to work tirelessly as a scavenger while still attending school. Dropping out wasn¡¯t an option, education was his only hope for a better future. His days blurred into a relentless cycle of work, study, and only three hours of sleep, but he endured it all for her.


    To make ends meet, Nix went around his neighborhood offering his services to fix simple electronic devices. Whether it was a broken radio or a malfunctioning lamp, he used his resourcefulness and technical skills to earn a few extra coins. On lucky days, he managed to get small dish washing gigs at local diners, scrubbing plates until his fingers were raw. It wasn¡¯t much, but every bit helped.


    Granny had taught him to understand others, even those who hurt him. ¡°Everyone has their own battles, Nix,¡± she¡¯d often say. ¡°Sometimes people do bad things because they¡¯re hurting inside. That doesn¡¯t excuse it, but it helps us not carry their hate as our own.¡±


    That wisdom had stayed with him. Though he was angry, Nix understood that these bullies might have their own struggles, their own reasons for their cruelty. Still, that didn¡¯t mean there shouldn¡¯t be consequences. He vowed to endure, not out of vengeance, but to grow stronger, for himself, for Laurie, and for anyone else who might suffer under people like them. Weakness, he had realized, was the greatest sin of all.


    As Jared shoved him hard, sending him stumbling to the ground, Nix¡¯s resolve burned brighter than the bruises on his skin. He picked himself up slowly, brushing off the dust. ¡°One day,¡± he thought, his fists clenched but his heart steady, ¡°One day, no one will bully me. No one will hurt the people I love.¡±


    With quiet determination, he mounted Scootie and rode to school, carrying not just his books but the weight of his promise to become unbreakable..


    ---


    Two years later, Nix proudly stood at his graduation, with his heart swelling with accomplishment; he had gone through years of bullying and sleepless nights, tireless work, and here was his diploma in his hands. But the pride was short-lived. Moments after the ceremony ended, devastating news reached him: Laurie¡¯s health had taken a sudden, sharp turn.


    When Nix arrived home, Laurie lay in her bed, her breathing shallow but steady. The doctor explained gently that her time was short. Despite years in a coma, she had somehow remained remarkably healthy. Her sudden improvement, though temporary, was a bittersweet miracle.


    Laurie smiled weakly as Nix knelt beside her. ¡°Nix, I¡¯m sorry,¡± she whispered, her voice soft but steady. ¡°I¡¯ve made your life harder... burdened you when you should¡¯ve been free. I wish I could stay longer.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t say that, Granny,¡± Nix said, tears streaming down his face. ¡°You¡¯ve never been a burden. Everything I¡¯ve done is because of you.¡±


    Laurie reached out, her hand trembling as it brushed against his cheek. ¡°You¡¯ve grown into such a strong, kind boy. But remember, it¡¯s okay to show your weakness to those you trust. Weakness isn¡¯t shameful, it¡¯s what makes us human.¡±


    Nix sobbed quietly, holding her hand tightly. For years, he had carried the weight of their survival, never letting himself cry. But now, Laurie¡¯s words unlocked the dam he had kept closed.


    Her voice grew softer as she began to hum the lullaby, the same tune she had sung to him when she first found him. Though her voice was frail, the melody carried the same warmth and comfort that had soothed him as a baby. Nix leaned closer, his tears soaking the blanket as he listened.


    With her final strength, Laurie wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could. The lullaby faded into a whisper, and then into silence. Laurie¡¯s embrace grew still, but her warmth lingered, a final gift of her unwavering love.


    Nix sat by her side for hours, the weight of loss pressing down on him. But her words replayed in his mind like a mantra: Weakness isn¡¯t something to fear. It¡¯s what makes us human.


    As the sun set over Mount Trashmore, Nix made a promise to himself and to Laurie¡¯s memory. He would take her wisdom with him, using her love and lessons as the foundation for the life he would build, a life where her legacy would live on.


    And though the world around him remained harsh and unforgiving, Laurie¡¯s lullaby echoed in his heart, a symbol of hope in the midst of despair.