Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 57: Tundra Trove

Nioh and his new group had been advancing through the Expanse for hours. Under his leadership, they prioritized prudence over speed, making slower progress than he would have liked. Every thirty seconds, he snapped his fingers, releasing a low-frequency sound wave to map out the surroundings. Behind the bandages that concealed his face, he quietly observed the group’s actions, assessing their individual performances.

Kyle was the navigator, guiding them by reading the clouds, wind pressure, and scent. Nioh had to admit—he was exceptionally talented. The next most competent was Brae, who had solid instincts and knew how to handle herself. Juith and Trum, however, lacked agency, following Brae’s lead without question.

As they pressed forward, an unsettling feeling gnawed at Nioh. The deeper they ventured, the stronger his unease grew. Yet no matter how keenly he watched, or analyzed, he couldn’t pinpoint its source.

The sun was still high in the sky, but dusk loomed in the distance. He needed to find shelter—somewhere defensible for the night.

"What is that?" Trum asked, pointing toward a large cocoon nestled at the base of a towering tree.

Nioh approached cautiously, drawing a pocket knife. He pressed the blade against the silk, testing its resistance—but no matter how much force he applied, the material remained unscathed.

"Do you have fire?" he asked, unwilling to risk direct contact in case the cocoon was venomous.

Juith handed over her plasma sword. The moment the superheated blade touched the cocoon, it combusted in a flash, disintegrating into a cloud of acrid smoke. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

What remained was a desiccated corpse.

A deer—or at least what was left of one. Its body had been hollowed out from within, its ribcage ruptured, organs long devoured. Most grotesque of all were the clusters of translucent eggs bulging from its innards, incubating something unnatural inside.

Kyle staggered back, doubling over as he vomited the remnants of his last meal. The others instinctively took a step away, their faces contorted in revulsion.

But Nioh was already analyzing. The corpse was on the ground, meaning it likely fell from somewhere. His eyes followed that logic upward.

And then he saw it.

"Oh my god—" Brae’s breath hitched as she followed his gaze.

Cocoons.

Thousands of them.

They stretched endlessly into the canopy above, suspended within a vast labyrinth of silk—intricately woven spiderwebs, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Nioh’s unease finally made sense.

This was the territory of the Silent-Spiders—a species of biocore that thrived in forested ecosystems. Silent, merciless hunters, they reproduced by implanting their larvae into living hosts, hollowing them out from the inside.

No wonder the forest was eerily devoid of life.

Nioh’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Listen to me. And listen well."

The others turned toward him, their faces tight with fear.

"Starting now, you do not make a single sound. If you so much as breathe too loud, you’re dead. Do you understand?"

A collective nod.

"Good. Get ready to run. The further we get from here, the better our chances of survival."

Fear rippled through the group as they turned and fled.

For now, they were safe—the sun was still up. Silent-Spiders feared light and fire.

But night was coming.

And when darkness fell, so would they.

-

"I... can’t anymore," Kyle mouthed silently before collapsing from exhaustion.

They had been running for five hours, according to Nioh’s watch, yet the scent of blood still lingered in the air. The sun was casting its final, feeble rays over the horizon, while darkness crept in like a silent predator.

"We can’t stop now," Nioh whispered. His sharp eyes darted to Trum. "You—pick him up."

Trum hesitated, his expression twisted with reluctance, but there was no room for complaints. With a grunt, he hoisted Kyle onto his back, and the group resumed their frantic escape.

The tundra flashed past them, trees blurring together as they sprinted through the ever-thickening forest.

Then, the sky darkened unnaturally.

The trees stretched impossibly high, as if the forest itself were growing. A biting chill spread across the ground, creeping into their bones.

Nioh came to an abrupt halt. His instincts screamed at him.

He dropped to one knee, dragging a circle into the dirt. "Gather anything flammable. Now!"

The group obeyed without question, discarding unnecessary gear within the boundary before scattering to collect whatever they could find. Dry branches, dead leaves, brittle bones—anything that could burn.

Juith ignited her plasma blade, pressing it against the gathered debris. Sparks crackled. A flicker. Then flame.

The slithering began.

A sound like countless dry leaves scraping together filled the air, growing louder with every passing second. A chittering chorus echoed through the trees.

The spiders were coming.

"Hurry up!" Trum urged, his voice strained with panic. He and Brae switched on their pocket torches, illuminating the horde that approached from every direction.

Eight-legged monstrosities, skittering forward in perfect silence.

Without hesitation, they opened fire. Gunshots rang out, slowing the oncoming flood just enough. But it wasn’t enough. The spiders pressed forward, undeterred.

The flames roared to life, turning their circle into a beacon in the dark.

"Oh my god... We’re going to die." Trum’s voice was barely above a whimper. "We should’ve never taken this mission—"

"Shut up for once." Brae snapped, collapsing onto the ground, gulping for air. The others followed suit, recovering from the endless sprint.

Only Nioh remained standing.

His gaze was locked onto something beyond the smaller spiders—a figure looming in the shadows.

It was larger than the rest.

Much larger.

Its bladed legs towered above them like sharpened stakes.

"Ekoh was right," Nioh thought grimly. "Maybe I really am cursed."

He inhaled deeply, pushing the thought aside. This was no time for doubt.

"The fire cannot die. If it does, we all die." His voice was steady, firm. "Kyle, Brae, Juith—you rest now. In four hours, we switch."

Trum flinched. "Are you sure it’s safe?" His voice trembled with exhaustion and fear.

Nioh turned toward him, his eyes cold. "Say another word, and I’ll throw you outside the ring myself."

Trum fell silent.

Nioh wasted no time. He grabbed the toolbox and the pocket knife he’d taken from the mechanic, settling in to work. He needed something more practical than this knife.

There was no telling when he’d get another moment like this.

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the night, followed by a series gunfire not too far.

Probably the mercenary group after them. Nioh thought as watched the spiders skitter along the edge of the fire’s glow, their hunger palpable. Hopefully both threat hurt each other enough for him to have a breather.

It was going to be a long night.