It took Aiden nearly three full hours to get back to the base.
The walk felt longer than it should have. His legs moved forward step by step, but his body felt heavier with every minute that passed. The exoskeleton carried most of the weight, yet the strain still reached him through the frame.
The image of the two deer stayed in his mind even after he no longer carried them, and the wind moving through the grass followed him the entire way back, steady and quiet, giving him the uneasy feeling the whole journey.
Because of that feeling, he never allowed himself to relax. The air drone stayed active above him the entire journey, moving ahead in slow circles and wide passes, scanning the land from above.
Its feed remained fixed in the corner of his visor, and Aiden checked it constantly, watching for even the smallest sign of movement. Whenever the terrain changed or the land dipped out of sight, he slowed his pace and waited until the drone confirmed the path was clear.
The land drone moved ahead of him as well, keeping low to the ground as it rolled through grass and uneven soil. Its sensors searched for vibrations and sudden changes beneath the surface, and Aiden adjusted his route whenever it detected anything unusual.
He followed at a careful distance, never letting either drone get too far from him. Losing signal out here was not something he wanted to repeat.
His body stayed ready the entire time. His shoulders remained tense, and his grip on the pistol never loosened. The exoskeleton responded to every shift of weight, prepared to push him into motion at a moment's notice.
Each step was placed with intent, and every sound made him pause, even if it turned out to be nothing more than the wind brushing through tall grass.
More than once, he stopped completely and waited, listening and watching while the drones swept the area again. The memory of lightning crashing into the ground where he had stood refused to fade.
The sun was already low in the sky, and its light stretched long shadows across the ground as Aiden moved closer to the base. The warmth of the day faded with every step, replaced by cooler air that settled against his skin and suit.
By the time the wall of the base came into view, his muscles ached from staying tense for so long, the strain of constant alertness pressing down on him even as safety came into sight.
He did not lower his guard. The air drone remained in motion above him, and the land drone continued to sweep the ground ahead as he closed the final distance. His eyes stayed fixed on the feeds in his visor, and his grip on the pistol did not loosen.
Only when he reached the gate did the last of the daylight slip away, leaving the land painted in deep orange and fading blue as night settled in.
He opened the gate just wide enough to step through and closed it again behind him without hesitation. The metal shifted with a low sound as the locks engaged, and he checked each one carefully before moving on.
The drones stayed active until the gate was fully sealed and secured, and only then did he recall them and allow his shoulders to relax slightly. Inside the base, the wind no longer reached him, and the open sounds of the land were cut off.
He did not waste time.
There was work to do, and the deer came first.
He began with the smaller deer right away, lowering the body onto the open space he had cleared for this purpose. He took a moment to adjust it, making sure it lay flat and would not shift while he worked.
The ground beneath it was firm, and the area was clean enough to keep dirt away from the meat. His tools were placed within reach, and once everything was set, his hands moved with calm focus.
He did not rush, but he did not pause either. Food, materials, and anything that could spoil mattered more than his own comfort. One wrong move here could waste days of work.
He placed a wide basin beneath the neck and steadied the body with one hand. With the other, he made a careful cut, just deep enough to open the flesh without tearing it. Dark blood flowed out at once, striking the basin with a dull, steady sound.
The smell was thick in the air, and he stayed close, watching the level rise. When the flow changed, he adjusted the angle of the body so nothing spilled. He did not look away, and he did not step back, staying there until the steady stream slowed and turned into a slow, heavy drip.
Only when the smaller deer was fully drained of blood did he straighten and move toward the larger one, already preparing himself for the harder work ahead.
This one demanded far more care. The body was massive, and even before he touched it, the size alone made him slow down. The hide was thick and rough beneath his hands, dense in a way that resisted pressure and did not give easily.
He widened his stance and set his feet firmly, making sure his balance would not shift while he worked. He took his time, guiding the blade carefully so the hide stayed intact and nothing beneath it was damaged.
When the blood began to flow, it came faster and heavier than before. The sound as it hit the basin was deeper, fuller, and the smell grew stronger in the air.
Aiden focused on his breathing and kept his hands steady, adjusting the position of the body when needed to keep the flow clean. He stayed with it the entire time, watching until the stream slowed and finally faded into a slow drip.
Only then did he step back.
He stood there in silence, looking at both bodies resting in front of him. Every part of these creature mattered. The hide, the meat, the bones, the blood, and even what he could not yet use all had value.
He reminded himself of this again and again. Just because something had no clear use right now did not mean it would stay that way. Each day that passed meant fewer resources, fewer chances, and less room for mistakes.
If he wasted what he had now, there would be no easy way to replace it later. In a place like this, survival was not about acting fast or proving strength, but about planning ahead, saving what he could, and slowly building up everything he might need for the days to come.
Once the draining of the blood was finished, the weight of the day finally reached him. He stepped out of the exoskeleton, the frame releasing its hold on his body, and removed his suit. Without the support, the fatigue hit harder. He lowered himself onto a rough log chair near the wall and sat there in silence.
His eyes stayed open, but his thoughts drifted.
The image of the lake stayed in his thoughts, followed by the sudden strike of lightning and the way the deer had moved with speed he did not expect. Everything about that moment felt wrong to him now. He had walked into it without knowing what the creature could do, and that mistake had nearly cost him his life.
His gaze drifted to the shield tower resting nearby. The weight of it felt heavier just looking at it. It had slowed him down, pulled at his balance, and given him nothing in return when the attack came.
In the end, it was not the shield that saved him, but his ability to move quickly. Speed had kept him alive, and that truth stayed with him as he stood there in silence.
"This thing slows me down. If I face something like that again, standing still will get me killed."
The thought settled deep in his mind. Defense had its place, but only when he understood what he was facing. If he did not know how strong an enemy was, then he had to assume the worst.
After resting for a short while, he forced himself back to his feet and put his suit and exoskeleton on again. The night air felt colder now as the systems sealed around his body, and the weight returned in full.
He lifted the two deer once more and carried them into the ship, placing them carefully inside the large freezer. He did not cut them further or inspect them again. That work could wait. His body was too tired to risk mistakes.
He sealed the basin of blood and stored it properly before moving on.
This time, he went straight to the wash area. He did not settle for a quick wipe to clean his body. He stood under hot water and let it run over him, washing away sweat, dirt, and the sharp smell of blood that clung to his skin.
The heat sank deep into his muscles, easing the tension little by little, until his breathing finally slowed.
When he lay down to sleep, his body felt drained but steady. His thoughts faded soon after, and sleep took him without effort.
******
He woke feeling rested in a way he had not felt in a long time. His eyes opened without strain, and his body responded when he moved, steady and free of pain. The light inside the ship was calm and even, casting soft shadows along the walls.
For a brief moment, he stayed still and listened, making sure everything around him was quiet and stable.
He did not stay in bed for long.
There was work waiting for him, but before he moved anywhere else, Aiden checked the ship systems. He brought up the camera feeds and scanned through the recorded footage from the time he had been asleep. The screens showed nothing unusual.
No movement near the walls. No animals approaching the base. No changes in the surrounding land. Everything had remained quiet. Seeing that, he allowed himself a small breath of relief.
Only then did he move.
Aiden got up and went straight to the freezer. Cold air spilled out as he opened it, carrying the sharp, clean scent of frozen meat. He reached inside and pulled out the larger deer first, bracing himself as he shifted its weight onto the processing area.
Frost clung to the hide, forming a thin white layer that cracked and fell away beneath his gloves as he adjusted the body into position.
He took his time.
With slow and careful movements, he opened the chest cavity, guiding his tools with steady hands. Each cut was placed with intent, clean and controlled, as he worked his way through the frozen stiffness.
The cold made the work harder than before, and his fingers felt stiff even through his gloves, but he did not rush. Damaging what lay inside would be a mistake he could not afford.
When he finally reached inside and closed his hands around the core, his movements stopped.
He pulled it free and stood there without moving.
The core was enormous. It filled both of his hands, heavy and solid, larger than his head and far denser than anything he had held before. Even without active output, it carried weight that went beyond its size, like pressure held tightly in place, waiting. The surface was smooth and cold, and the mass of it settled into his arms as he held it.
His breath caught as he stared at it.
"This is huge. This changes everything."
The words left his mouth slowly, spoken into the quiet space of the ship. For the first time since he had landed on this world, the tight weight in his chest eased. This was not just food or raw material. It was a huge addition to his power reserves!
He immediately placed the core into a secure container and sealed it before turning back to the body.
The large deer was moved outside and hung where the sun could reach it. As the frost slowly melted, he began to plan. The hide could become armor. The sinew could be twisted into rope, bindings, or tension lines for future tools. The bones could be shaped into supports, tools, or armor plates. Nothing would be wasted.
He returned inside and retrieved the smaller deer next. When he opened it, he felt a quiet relief.
"Good. There is a core here too."
It was smaller than the core from the giant deer, but still far larger than the first one he had ever found. He stored it carefully beside the others, then carried the second body outside and hung it where the sun could reach it, allowing it to slowly defrost.
While both deer thawed, Aiden turned his attention inward.
He accessed stored records and reviewed simple strength exercises used by military units. He chose movements that built balance and control, not raw force.
For an hour, he worked through controlled lifts, steady holds, and resistance movements. Sweat formed, his breathing deepened, and his muscles burned in a familiar way.
When he finished, he cleaned himself again and prepared to work.
He started with the smaller deer.
The hide came off cleanly, tough yet flexible. The sinew beneath it was strong and resilient, better than any natural material he had handled before.
He separated each part with care and stored them one by one. The meat was dense and rich, heavier than it looked, and he cut it into clean portions before sealing them properly.
The bones were cleaned and stacked neatly, and even the head was set aside instead of being thrown away. He worked with care, making sure nothing was damaged or left to rot. Nothing was rushed, and nothing was wasted. Every piece was treated as something worth keeping.
He did not yet know what every part would become, but he knew better than to discard anything that had cost him time, effort, and risk to obtain. As he worked, his thoughts moved ahead to the future.
e would need a proper storage area outside the ship, built from steel wood, where materials could be sorted and kept safely. Strange resources would appear as he explored more of this world, and he did not want every unknown thing brought inside the ship.
A separate processing space and storage shed would keep the ship clean and controlled, a place where systems stayed sterile and safe while the messy work happened outside.
Only after the smaller deer was fully processed did he move to the larger one.
Working on it felt different from the very start. The hide alone was thick and wide, and even after it was fully removed, it carried real weight in his hands.
The surface felt dense and firm, not soft like normal hide, and he could already remember how it had looked during the fight, how the creature had charged through impacts that should have slowed it down.
He laid the hide flat and pressed the antler dagger against a small section, applying steady and controlled force. The blade scraped across the surface but barely left a mark. The resistance was immediate and solid.
Aiden did not need more testing to understand what that meant. He had already seen this hide protect the creature in battle, absorb energy, and keep it moving even after being hit.
"Good. This could be a good addition to the mech armor, no? It is pretty tough."
The hide resisted both cutting and pressure, and that confirmed what he already knew from facing the creature himself. This was not ordinary material. Bringing the monster down had been dangerous, exhausting, and nearly fatal, but the value of this hide made that risk feel justified.
He set it aside with care, knowing it would need proper processing later before it could be shaped and used, and made a mental note to treat it as one of his most important materials so far.
The sinew beneath it was even thicker than the smaller deer's, strong and tight, and he took his time removing it without damage. As he stored it, he felt genuine satisfaction. This was material that could change how he survived future fights.
The rest of the body followed. Meat, bones, and remaining parts were handled with the same level of care, sorted and stored piece by piece. He stayed focused until everything was accounted for and nothing was left exposed.
When the work was finally done, he prepared a simple meal using nutritional paste mixed with deer meat. He ate slowly, letting the warmth settle into his body and ease the remaining tension.
Only after finishing did he turn his attention back to the cores, his thoughts already moving ahead to what they might allow him to do next.
He started with the smaller core.
Aiden placed it on the analysis platform and watched as the ship systems came online around it. The sensors adjusted slowly, and numbers began to scroll across the display. He stayed still and let the scan finish, his eyes fixed on the results as they settled.
The output was higher than before.
The first core he had ever found barely reached one percent of the ship's total power. He remembered how weak it had felt, how carefully he had rationed every use. This one was different. The reading stabilized and held firm at three percent.
He let out a slow breath.
"I need a grading system for these cores..."
He pulled up a simple log and began sorting the data in a way that made sense to him. He did not overthink it. He just needed something clear and consistent.
The first core went into the lowest category.
[Core Grade F][Power Output: 1 percent of total ship power][Estimated Use: limited operation, basic tools, emergency backup]
This grade fell to the very first core he had ever found, taken from the first deer he had hunted on this world, and at the time it had felt like a great discovery. That small amount of power had kept him alive when he had nothing else, and without it, he would not have made it this far.
The second core earned a higher place.
[Core Grade E]
[Power Output: 3 percent of total ship power]
[Estimated Use: stable operation, long term tool use, system support]
Three percent meant months of power if he managed it carefully. It meant he no longer had to shut tools down the moment they finished a task. It meant longer work cycles, fewer forced breaks, and less constant fear of draining everything at once.
Systems that had stayed offline could now be turned on for short periods without guilt. Repairs could be done properly instead of rushed. Compared to the first core, this one offered breathing room.
It did not solve every problem, but it reduced the number of hard choices he had to make each day, and that alone made it extremely valuable.
Then he turned to the massive core.
He hesitated before starting the scan.
This one felt different even before the systems touched it. It sat heavy on the platform, silent and still, yet impossible to ignore. When the analysis began, the readings climbed fast. Aiden leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as the numbers continued to rise.
The scan finished.
For a brief moment, Aiden forgot to breathe.
The numbers on the display settled and did not change.
Ten percent.
Ten full percent of the ship's total power output.
He stood there in silence, staring at the result as his mind slowly caught up. That amount of energy was not just helpful. It changed the limits of what he could do. Repairs that had been impossible were now within reach.
Tools could be upgraded instead of patched together. Heck, he could even make new tools now! Plus the systems that he had shut down to save power no longer can be utilized again.
He took a slow breath as the weight of it settled in.
Then another thought followed.
With stable energy at this level, he could finally attempt to bring J.E.M. back online as well.
The idea tightened his chest. J.E.M. was not just an assistant program. It carried research data, technical records, and access protocols that even he had never been allowed to see.
Parts of the ship had remained sealed since the crash, locked behind security systems that demanded far more power than he could ever spare before. Those compartments held government issued equipment meant for use on the newly discovered planet his parents had been sent to study.
If the tools he already had access to were enough to keep him alive this long, then whatever was stored in the most secure and protected section of the ship had to be even more valuable.
The thought that anything could be waiting behind those doors made his chest tighten with both hope and caution.
He pulled up his log again and added the final entry.
[Core Grade D]
[Power Output: 10 percent of total ship power]
[Estimated Use: major system restoration, advanced tools, long term ship support]
He read the line twice to make sure it was real.
Ten percent meant months of stable power, and with that came choice and the ability to plan beyond simple survival, allowing the ship to slowly become more than just a place to hide and sleep.
Aiden did not let that thought carry him away.
Power like this could be wasted just as easily as it could be used well, and he was not in a position to act on it without preparation. Rushing now would only turn opportunity into loss.
If this power was going to change his situation, it would be through careful planning and steady steps, not reckless action.
He sealed each core with deliberate care and carried them into the most secure room the ship had. One by one, he placed them into containment units, locked down access, and set limits to prevent any accidental draw.
He checked every seal twice and confirmed stability before moving on, treating each core as something too valuable to trust to a single glance.
Only after everything was secured did he finally step back and let out a slow breath.
For the first time since arriving on this world, he was not just reacting to survive. He was preparing for what came next.