NexaHunt, The Atomic Connection

By Copper Wiezi

In the high-stakes RPG of NexaHunt, fallen fashion magazine mogul Kaya Kellix teams up with psychotherapist Nenah Nova to reclaim her standing and outmaneuver her cunning ex-husband, Draven Merik.

Their quest takes a dark turn when Interdimensional Agents M. Trek and Seren Faeler join the game undercover to investigate the fate

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frequency Five Publications LTD
• Release date: Jun 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9780991600519

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Seventy-eight years ago, the cosmos trembled. A ripple of inexplicable energy surged through the fabric of space-time, originating from a point an inch away yet a universe apart.

The impact was immediate and devastating for the sister planets of Chronoria, Zenexis, and Nexotara. Windows shattered, tsunamis roared, and the ground quaked, leaving a trail of destruction and death.

As the planets reeled from the catastrophe, help arrived across the galaxy. The Galactic Federation - a coalition of advanced civilizations including the Greys, the Pleiadians, and the Draconians - and the closest civilization was in the Milkyway Galaxy, Alpha Centauri, Veloria Prime formerly known as Proxima-B - had felt the cosmic disturbance.

Their initial assumption of solar flares was soon dismissed when they discovered the shocking truth: a parallel universe, Earth, had come perilously close to their own. United in purpose, the Federation activated an ancient portal, a relic from a bygone era when beings of light roamed the cosmos.

Their mission led them to Earth, where they found a species on the brink of self-destruction, detonating atomic weapons with reckless abandon … Thus began the Monitoring Earth Project, an ongoing effort to observe and, if necessary, intervene in Earth's affairs.

Every year, the three sister planets observe a solemn three-day period of reflection, marking the anniversaries of the cataclysmic events that took place on July 16, August 6, and 9, 1945. It serves as a reminder of the interconnectedness of all life and the consequences of actions taken in even the most distant corners of the universe.

Draven Merik, a man of science like his father Dietrich before him, stands at the center of this cosmic web. Dietrich was among the first to venture through the portal, but his legacy is tainted by clandestine dealings with Earthlings.

Now, Merik continues his father's work in secret, collaborating with Earth's politicians and scientists to manipulate humankind's course, including its evolution. Yet, these actions defy the ethical guidelines set by the Federation, risking not just Earth's future but the stability of the entire galaxy.

The stage is set, the players are positioned, and the cosmic scales hang in a delicate balance. As the sister planets continue to heal and Earth teeters on the edge of enlightenment or ruin, one question remains: What happens when the scales tip?

PART ONE

ORDINARY WORLD

CHAPTER 1

M. TREK

Trek walked out of a swirling vortex, and the sound was like the universe just spit him out. It made that sucking sound as he emerged into the humid darkness of a power station yard, Trek whispered, Am I in Covington? and giggled as he walked through like there wasn't anything to worry about.

His mind briefly flashed back to a similar mission on Terra Nova Centauri, where he had to navigate through a dense jungle to reach his target. The memory served as a reminder of his training and strength, reinforcing his confidence in facing the unknown.

The shadows of the large generators dominated the space around him, with their humming overpowering all other sounds. It was deafening.

While taking cover behind the concrete pipe, Trek's thoughts drifted to his childhood on Terra Nova Centauri, where he spent hours exploring the dense rainforests near his family's home. The memory of those adventures seeded in him a sense of adaptability and resourcefulness, traits that serve him well in his current mission.

As soon as he tried to take a step, the sudden sound of gunfire shattered the stillness. Trek immediately acted defensively and moved behind another large concrete pipe for cover. His heart was racing, and adrenaline was surging through his veins. The pungent smell of sulfur invaded his nostrils, intensifying his sense of danger.

Damn, bruh, they need to chill and accept what my badass is about to do to them, he said under his breath, then giggled, his voice barely audible over the deafening sound of bullets ricocheting off the concrete, except for homebase personnel, who can hear everything he's saying.

One of them started laughing. Are y'all listening to this idiot while he's getting shot at? This was not the welcome he had expected, but what should you expect when entering an unknown world through an interdimensional portal?

Trek's hand moved to his wrist-comm device, which looked more like a metallic, transparent bracelet than what its design dictated. His fingers deftly navigated the holographic interface that sprang to life. He needed a way out or something to buy him time to complete his mission.

A beep announced the arrival of a new message. Trek read the words before his eyes: Destroy the power source to the beta machine within ten minutes.

Great, just great, he grumbled, his face twisted into a grimace. The stakes were higher than ever, but Trek was no stranger to impossible situations. He had survived countless life-or-death scenarios, and this would be no different.

With a sense of urgency tightening his chest, Trek swiped through several menus on his wrist pad until he found the mobile portal device application. As he activated it, a small, sleek, circular device detached itself from his belt buckle and floated into his waiting palm. This little gadget was his lifeline; without it, he'd be stranded in this hostile dimension with no escape.

Alright, let's do this, he whispered, bracing his nerves for the task ahead. He had ten minutes to destroy the beta machine's power source and return to his world. It was gonna be something else, but Trek could never turn down a challenge.

His mind raced with strategies and tactics as gunfire continued to rain down around him. He knew he couldn't waste more time hiding behind this pipe – every second counted. With determination burning in his eyes, Trek clutched the mobile portal device tightly. He prepared to face whatever risks lay ahead.

Failure is not happening, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath as he prepared for the battle that would determine the fate of worlds.

The stinky stench of sulfur saturated everything and assaulted Trek's senses as he squatted. The smell was so strong that his pulse pounded in his ears. The expansive power station yard seemed to close around him, suffocating and claustrophobic.

He couldn't allow the fear to take hold—not now. With a swift motion, he tapped the violet-colored ThermoHoloSpecs, which wrapped around his head, and scanned for the approaching threats.

Three life forms, he stated, noting their fifty-foot positions. There is no time to waste."

Ring levels of comfort activated, chimed the synthesized voice from the ThermoHoloSpecs. The specs displayed a series of concentric circles, each representing ten-foot increments, with the encroaching lifeforms pulsing red at the edge of the outermost ring.

Drawing upon reserves of courage and strength, Trek activated the force field function on the mobile portal device. A shimmering dome of energy encased him, granting temporary protection—but only five minutes' worth. As the bullets ricocheted off the force field with an electric sizzle, Trek's heart raced with adrenaline-fueled intensity.

Five minutes, he repeated to himself, focusing on the task at hand. That's all I've got.

Trek's unique demeanor rarely allowed emotions to interfere with his mission. He had learned to control his fear and rely on his extensive training, which had prepared him for high-pressure situations like this one.

Go! he shouted, sprinting across the exposed terrain towards the target, his boots thudding against the cold concrete beneath him. The force field flickered with each impact, straining to keep Trek safe from the relentless hail of gunfire. His mind raced with calculations and strategies, desperate to find the most efficient path to victory.

Trek, a staticky voice said through his earpiece. Time is running out. You must destroy the beta machine's power source now!

Got it, he replied tersely, gritting his teeth and pressing forward. The attackers were relentless, their weapons spitting death at every turn.

Almost there, he whispered, his voice ragged with exertion. His lungs burned, and sweat poured down his face as he neared the power source. He could feel the force field weakening; its once bright sheen was now flickering unsteadily, showing its integrity on the ground.

Three minutes left, warned the voice in his earpiece.

Thanks for the reminder, Trek snapped, his heart pounding against his ribs. He knew he had to act fast, but the fear of failure threatened to paralyze him. I can do this, he thought, pushing the doubts aside.

Two minutes, came the voice again, more urgent this time.

Enough! Trek barked, diving into a roll as he closed the distance to the beta machine's power source. The force field faltered, crackling like a dying ember.

Come on, just a little longer, he pleaded silently, raising his weapon and aiming at the approaching attackers. In that split second, he saw their faces – cold, emotionless, intent on stopping him at any cost. With the last traces of the force field's protection, he fired at them; the shots echoed through the power station yard like thunder.

You're burning daylight, Trek, the voice reminded him as the force field finally collapsed, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. But he still needed to finish. With one final, desperate surge of adrenaline, he leaped towards the beta machine's power source. He braced himself for the onslaught that was sure to come.

Trek's heart thundered in his chest, and the metallic taste of dread mingled on his tongue, fueling his will when he received a quick update of the logistics projecting on the ThermoHoloSpecs; he assessed the situation—more life forms were arriving and closing in, with little time to waste.

Alright, he started singing in a whispery voice, it's now or never. 

Reaching into his backpack, still singing, Trek's fingers closed around the cold, cylindrical metal of three grenades designed to seek and destroy targets with deadly precision. He tapped at his wristpad, setting the coordinates for each explosive. With a deep breath, he hurled the trio of destruction through the air, watching as they arced gracefully toward their targets.

Two minutes, thirty seconds, the voice in his earpiece urged as the grenades found their mark and detonated with a deafening roar. The concussive force rippled through the power station yard, shaking the ground beneath Trek's feet and sending a shockwave of satisfaction through him.

Hell Yeah! Three down, Trek muttered, his gaze darted back to the smoke floating. His pursuers were now only 25 feet away, and time was slipping through his fingers like sand. Ten more enemies appeared. Their sinister silhouettes materialized from the shadows like vengeful specters. Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, his grip tightening on his weapon.

Let's finish this, you chimichangas, he growled, attaching an explosive to the beta machine's power source. His fingers flew across the wristpad, programming the device to detonate in precisely three minutes. Every second that ticked away felt like forever, and the weight of his mission threatened to crush him.

Stay focused, papi, he reminded himself. His eyes narrowed as he fired at the encroaching enemies. Each shot left a trail of smoke in the air, like tendrils reaching out towards their victims. The racket of gunfire and the screams of his foes filled the night, creating a soundscape that drowned out the voice in his earpiece.

Trek, you must hurry! the voice implored, cutting through the chaos just as he felt the explosive click into place. With a final quick look, Trek braced for the last leg of this deadly race against time.

With each step, Trek's boots crunched against the gravel beneath him as he evaluated his options. His breaths came in ragged bursts, and his chest tightened like a vice with every inhale. His adrenaline was pumping, and his heart pounded in his ears like a war drum.

As Trek raced towards the building at the center of the yard, memories of past missions flooded his mind—missions that pushed and tested his limits in the face of overwhelming odds. These experiences serve as a reminder of his training and expertise, giving him the strength to persevere despite the mounting challenges.

Think, damn it, he hissed through clenched teeth, scanning the power station yard for an escape route. More enemies were closing in, their hunger for blood noticeable even from afar. A glint of hope caught Trek's eye – scaffolding above circular pools of water shimmered in the low light, offering a potential path to safety. He couldn't help but acknowledge the irony: the element that powered the beta machine now stood as his lifeline.

Trek! a voice crackled in his ear, You've got company!

Already on it, he replied briefly, fingers deftly retrieving more grenades from his backpack. As he programmed them with rapid precision, the orbs levitated in a menacing dance, their deadly intent mirrored in Trek's stare. With a flick of his wrist, they shot off toward their targets, leaving trails of smoke in their wake.

Come on, come on… he murmured, willing the grenades to find their marks. The following explosions were music to his ears, a symphony of destruction that signaled the end for those foolish enough to stand in his way.

Move! he commanded himself, legs pumped furiously as he sprinted towards the two-story metal building at the center of the yard. Every muscle screamed in protest, but pain was a luxury he couldn't afford.

Time to bring out the ace, Trek murmured, tossing the mobile portal device from his belt. It skidded across the floor like a stone skipping across water, its sleek surface reflecting the harsh light of the power station. Within seconds, a shimmering portal opened; its energy hummed like the purring of a predatory cat waiting for him.

Trek! hissed the voice in his ear, panic laced every syllable, They're coming!

Let them, suckers, come, he replied, a hint of defiance creeping into his tone. The portal's allure was irresistible, drawing the attention of the remaining aggressors as they shifted their aim toward the fleeing agent. Bullets flew past Trek, each one a reminder of the danger he faced.

Almost there… he thought, feeling the electric charge of the portal on his skin. His fate rested in the hands of time, and as the countdown ticked ever closer to zero, Trek knew that every moment mattered.

The portal loomed before Trek, a swirling tempest of color and light that pulsed with an intensity that bordered on the malevolent. He could feel the relentless push of time, each tick of the clock a cruel reminder of his rapidly closing window.

As Trek prepared to leap through the portal, his thoughts turned to his motivations for undertaking missions like this one. Memories of his family and the ideals instilled in him by his upbringing on Terra Nova Centauri's surface remind him of the importance of his work in maintaining peace and stability across the galaxy.

Despite the doubts and uncertainties that linger, Trek found peace in the belief that his actions, no matter how difficult, are ultimately in service of the greater good.

An army of gunfire erupted behind him, drawing a grim smile as he realized that the endgame had arrived.

Goodbye, suckers, he whispered, casting a final glimpse over his shoulder at the chaos that was rapidly descending upon the power station. With a burst of speed, Trek hurled himself through the portal, feeling the almost electric rush of energy as it enveloped him like a cloak.

Close it! came the urgent voice in his ear, panic now fully evident in its tone.

Gotcha, Trek replied briefly, the incredible strength of determination sliding into place within him. The world outside seemed to freeze momentarily as if holding its breath in anticipation of what would come.

Three, two, one... he counted down silently, his fingers dancing across the controls of the comm device. As the countdown reached its climax, he slammed the button with all the force he could muster, and the portal snapped shut with a resonant thud that echoed across the yard.

3:30 am, Trek murmured, cold sweat trickling down his face.

The silence that followed the detonation was an eerie counterpoint to the pandemonium that had preceded it, creating an atmosphere of almost detectable tension.

Trek, status? The voice in his ear demanded, urgency seeping into every syllable.

Mission accomplished, but I'm not where I'm supposed to be. I'm back, just not the rendezvous point. He said with sigh of relief.

Understood. Can you get to home base came the reply, a note of weary resignation coloring the words.

Yes, he responded while pulling up navigation on the comm device.

 We'll debrief when you get back. Rest up, you've earned it.

Thanks, Trek said, his voice low and somber. As he thought about the devastation brought by his actions, a haunting question lingered in the back of his mind. Was it worth it? The thought gnawed at him like a siren's song, refusing to be silenced. In the end, only time would tell – and as Trek knew all too well, time was a constant permanence.

None of that was going to matter when he got home though. He couldn't wait to resume putting an antique watch back together. Then, visiting his parents and then finishing a book he'd been putting