He lifted the pickaxe with a two-handed grip; with his still unsteady frame, the handle felt like it was coated in oil. The impact rattled his arms like a rockslide. Sparks scattered and the copper clanged, stubbornly resisting his efforts. But he knew consistency was key here, so he gritted his teeth and swung again. And again.

  Each swing was an effort, but he noticed it was slightly less of one thanks to his skill module for mining being at level 4. These level-ups were making a noticeable difference in the quality of his work. And the more exertion he put in, the more he was getting out of it. As the pick came down, he braced his foot against a lower stone for better leverage, and finally, the copper splintered. Shards of usable ore broke free, one of them bouncing off his toes before falling away off the cliff face.

  CelestOS: Congratulations! You mined copper! And then immediately lost it! Bold, yet inefficient. Perhaps try collecting the ore next time?

  “Are you gonna lecture me, or get it?”

  Instead of answering, CelestOS just flew off, presumably in search of the ore. Ethan kept hacking away at the vein, every strike pulling more and more free. The pile of copper quickly grew as he mined and hacked away. He kept at it, single-minded and consistent, his strength ebbing and flowing, but his dedication was unwavering. The pile of copper chunks at his feet grew slowly but satisfyingly.

  The last chunk of copper ore hit the ground with a dull clink against the others. Ethan stepped back and exhaled slowly, resting his hands on his knees as he crouched. His arms ached. His knees shook. Honestly, his everything ached. Even with the boon his skills were proving to be, living on an alien planet sure was exhausting.

  At the end of fifteen minutes of hard work, two notifications and a snide comment awaited him.

  [Mining 4 -> 5]

  CelestOS: Resource acquired. Copper levels are barely adequate for fabrication needs. Congratulations, Acting Captain, you've met the lowest possible bar for survival.

  “Yeah, well, I followed your instructions perfectly, so if I suck, that's on you.”

  Ethan laughed as CelestOS failed to respond. Now he had to figure out how to get back across the river.

  He glanced down at the river, the same one that had nearly killed him just thirty minutes before, and then at the rocks he had fallen from a few hundred meters away. He felt a twinge of the same fear when looking at the ravine. The way his day was going, he was going to have to come face to face with that fear sooner rather than later. For now, he needed to get back to camp and figure out how to make an energy source.

  “Nope,” he said. “Not playing rock frog again.”

  CelestOS: Ooh, wow, a rare moment of wisdom. I shall mark this occasion with a round of applause.

  The sound of fifty people clapping, cheering even, erupted from her speakers like he was at a sports stadium. And Ethan could only roll his eyes.

  He turned away from the rocks and eyed the rest of the rocky terrain of the cliff in both directions. As dangerous as it was, there was no water and certainly less jumping, right?

  “Set a marker for half a click downstream. We're gonna find a way across.”

  CelestOS: Waypoint set. 'Coward's Detour.'

  Ethan narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t you just say I was being smart?”

  CelestOS: I did, and I stand by it. Cowardice and intelligence are not mutually exclusive.

  He didn't have the energy to argue. He adjusted his gloves and started walking.

  The river and cliff bent hard to the left as he walked, and Ethan slowed to a stop at the edge of the trail, or rather, where the trail used to be.

  A jagged cliff, full of rocks and roots and unimaginable drops the likes of which had Ethan vividly picturing a fall to his death, lay before him. The opposite side of the river was visible below: lower terrain, a new ore Ethan didn’t recognize at a glance, and what looked like the edge of some kind of alien forest. Yet another new variety of trees he didn't recognize glimmered like some kind of fire in the distance. Was everything here just another shade of red or orange? The water roared beneath and between, wide and foaming, even more relentless.

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  He could feel his legs and arms and everything wanting to clam up, to give in. But he bit his tongue and faced it down. Everything was at stake if he didn’t.

  “Fuck me.”

  He stepped closer and peered over the edge. A series of stone ridges and broken roots from some unseen plant formed a maze of platforms and ledges that just might be his only way forward. A trail of sorts, if one was desperate enough. It was either this or the river, he guessed.

  CelestOS: Warning: terrain ahead classified as “Mildly Lethal.” Shall I enable Guided Descent Protocols?

  Ethan didn't hesitate. “If that means less dying, then, yeah, of course.”

  CelestOS: Engaging Guided Descent Protocols. Please follow all highlighted footholds for optimal limb retention.

  A jingle played, the same kind of weird-ass elevator music, except this time with an additional synthetic trumpet flare that seemed to proclaim this was a major victory. And then below, orange holographic markers, more vibrant than the muted yellow from earlier, flickered to life up and down the cliff face. A few even pulsed helpfully, accompanied by…

  “So it's just the same thing you did in the river? What's with the pomp and circumstance?”

  CelestOS: Studies show that expendable assets perform better with pageantry, and after the river incident, it is the opinion of Celestitech that you need all the help you can get.

  Ethan rolled his eyes so hard it made his neck ache. “Glad to know I’ve inspired a full-blown intervention, but if I'm expendable, why go to so much effort?”

  CelestOS: Because you are my only remaining asset, and as such would be expensive to replace.

  “How touching.”

  He stepped closer to the cliff's edge and looked down. The first marker hovered just over a rocky lip about a meter below, jagged roots twisting and twining with themselves like brittle little handholds. He crouched, then, lowering himself slowly, he slid his boots forward until their toes just barely scraped the edge. His right hand found a gnarled root; his left then gripped a notch in the rock. Every muscle in him cried out in agony, and even with his Athletics at 9, no part of him felt free from the strain. Slowly but surely, his footholds became handholds, and his legs were dangling freely below. Even lowering himself as far as he could go, the first of the orange markers was still a few meters below.

  “Alright,” he grimaced. “That was easy. Now, marker one, let's do this.”

  He let go. His boots slammed hard into the ledge below, and he shifted his weight forward so he wouldn't fall backward. The root bent under the strain, and his heart stopped for a second. But it held.

  CelestOS: Descent protocols successfully engaged. Vital signs: elevated but within acceptable expendable asset parameters.

  “Shut up,” Ethan said, already scanning for the next marker. Four meters down, two meters to his left, and clinging to a slanted lip of stone that looked ready to slide out from the cliff face at a moment's notice. The orange holographic marker blinked a steady rhythm, like a fire alarm needing to be replaced.

  Ethan dropped into a low crouch, angled sideways along the narrow ledge, and started slowly, sidestepping his way toward the new marker. Each movement was slow and careful. Wind hissed across the face of the cliff, tugging at him like the planet itself was trying to kill him again. And he most definitely did not look down at the 200-meter drop ready to take his life. No sir, he did not do that.

  The marker pulsed as he approached, as if its very existence yearned for this exact moment. He carefully lowered himself, boots unsteady and failing to find purchase against the sheer cliff.

  CelestOS: Foothold stability: Suboptimal. Expendable asset risk: low. Proceed with misplaced confidence.

  “Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Ethan growled as he swung himself and managed to grab onto the next marker. He just barely caught hold with his right hand, the force of the swing jarring him back and forth like some sort of sick game of tug-of-war where the losing side died.

  [Athletics 9 -> 10]

  [SYSTEM ALERT: Athletics has reached max level for Skill Module Tier 1. Upgrade required for further progression.]

  The notification surprised him, but it gave him the burst of skill and energy he needed to pull himself up onto this too-tiny ledge. It wasn’t a real platform, just an overly large crack in the wall pretending to be one.

  Fourteen meters ahead, the next marker blinked on, low and horizontal at the end of a large gap. He’d have to shuffle sideways along the wall and hope that somehow he could lunge for the next ledge, and that his boots didn’t slip since their grav feature was still disabled.

  He started moving, slowly and deliberately, each step dragging him forward, his breath sharp and loud in his ears.

  Then, the ledge began to crumble beneath his feet. His left foot slipped, his balance gone. Ethan lunged to grab hold of the cliff with his right hand, but he missed and dropped.

  He tumbled down, arms reaching out, heartbeat pounding in his ears, panic and blood threatening to explode in his head, and there! His left arm jutted out and grabbed for a root. He took a long, sharp breath as pain shot through his hands as the thorns of the root pierced his skin, but he held on like a stubborn mule.

  [HP: [■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ □ □ □] 68%

  And right when he thought he was safe, he heard it.

  Whirr… Tick… Shnk.

  A mechanical tone, high and steady like a pressure valve sealing shut, then another sound, metal against metal, and the unmistakable hiss of energy charging up as if from a laser gun.