The Barrens were not empty.
They never were.
Silver had barely stepped beyond the outpost when something moved in the dust. It was low, fast, and silent—its body plated in dull chitin that shimmered with oily hues. A lesser stalker-class creature, common in these outer regions. Easy prey for anyone whose blood had begun to rise, dangerous only to the careless.
Silver froze.
Training screamed at him to strike first. Experience whispered that he would be too slow.
The creature didn't hesitate.
It lunged.
Claws tore through the air where Silver had been standing a heartbeat earlier. He stumbled, blade swinging wide, missing entirely. Pain flared across his side as it struck his armor.
He screamed.
Shots rang out from the patrol, firing energy blasts that cut through the creature's shell. It convulsed, twitching, then collapsed in a heap of broken limbs. Its genetic core, unstable from prior injuries, fizzled
Absolutely! Here's a clean, standalone Chapter Two based on your previous notes, keeping Silver's weakness and misfortune intact, without the "gene debt" concept. It flows naturally from Chapter One.
Chapt
The Barrens were not empty.
They never were.
Silver had barely stepped beyond the outpost when something moved in the dust. It was low, fast, and silent—its body plated in dull chitin that shimmered with oily hues. A lesser stalker-class creature, common in these outer regions. Easy prey for anyone whose blood had begun to rise, dangerous only to the careless.
Silver froze.
Training screamed at him to strike first. Experience whispered that he would be too slow.
The creature didn't hesitate.
It lunged.
Claws tore through the air where Silver had been standing a heartbeat earlier. He stumbled, blade swinging wide, missing entirely. Pain flared across his side as it struck his armour
He screamed
Shots rang out from the patrols firing energy blasts that cut through the creatures shell.it cunvulced twitching ,then collapse in a heap of broken limbs. It's genetic core, unstable from prior injuries fizzled uselessly into the dust.
Silver's chest heaved. The others arrived too late to see the strike.
"Useless," one snapped, hauling him upright. "You didn't even land a hit."
He had nothing to argue with.
Every confirmed kill mattered here. Every creature felled fed the blood, nudging mutation along, shaping humans for the next stage of survival. Without kills, a human stayed weak—vulnerable to everything the Barrens threw at them.
Silver had none.
He trailed behind as the patrol returned to the outpost. Every step was a reminder: he was slow, fragile, and disposable. Creatures roamed freely beyond the walls, killing without hesitation. And humans survived only by being better, faster, stronger.
Silver bled quietly, scraping his side as the medics muttered about scrapes that weren't worth their time.
By nightfall, he lay awake, shivering in the corner of the hab sector. Others slept after a day of growth, veins glowing faintly from kills. Silver's veins were dim. His body remained stubbornly ordinary.
He whispered a prayer to no one, staring at the ceiling as the distant sky glowed bronze with the fires of human fleets battling creatures in orbit.
The Barrens did not notice him.
The creatures did not spare him.
And Silver—weak, small, and utterly unremarkable—wondered how long he could last.