The final hundred feet of Mount Sector were less of a mountain and more of a needle pointing straight into the open sky. The wind up here didn't merely blow; it howled in sharp, erratic gusts that rattled the loose straps of their packs and threatened to pry fingers from the granite.
Standing on the narrow stone ledge of the Eagle's Roost, seven hundred feet above the forest floor, the Plateau Five unhooked their primary climb lines, dusted chalk onto their raw palms, and checked each other's harnesses one last time.
Above them, perched on the highest flat pinnacle of the island, the metallic extraction terminal gleamed brightly against the horizon, its central biometric glass pad pulsing with an inviting, sky-blue light.
"Alright," Wu Haoran said, wiping a slick combination of sweat, chalk, and mountain mist from his forehead with the back of his forearm. He looked up at the remaining thirty meters of rock wall and stretched his neck until it popped.
