That Time an American was Reincarnated into Another World -
Chapter 267: Archive
September 18th, 626
My eyes snapped open right as the screaming started. I was starting to anticipate it now.
The silenced G18 appeared in my hand as the Shade crashed through the window of the room, spinning toward me. They always went for me. Always wanted my Psyka, my mind.
It was chipping at my sanity.
I aimed my arm over Umara, who slept next to me, pulling the trigger before her arm flashed with her mana organ’s activity. The rapid fire had a negligible effect on my accuracy as every round slammed home into the Shade’s body, the sound muted by the device still resting on my wrist. The Shade recoiled with the impact before dispersing into more poisonous fog that filled the atmosphere.
It wasn’t the only one.
Others came through other doors and two more tumbled through the window, clawing and rushing over broken shards of glass. Umara’s air spells finally came, neither of us having moved from our lying positions on the bed. I let off a few more bursts, helping her kill the other two as those on watch moved into action to kill the others.
Once they were all dead, everything fell silent. Except now everyone was awake once more.
I was frowning, feeling the sickening sensation in my gut caused by sleep deprivation.
It had been two days since we arrived in the city, and whenever we slept, the Shades would stage out attacks every two hours or so, always right when we started to drop into deep sleep. They seemed to know when the best time to do so was. It was impossible to get good sleep, and even after these two days I may have gotten four hours of shitty half-sleep.
Of course, the others could get by like this. I, however, could not. I needed double the sleep they did at minimum and I wasn’t even getting what they were. I couldn’t sleep through the attacks and let the others handle it either. Those screams and that sense of danger pierced through my brain like a knife. Even if I knew I didn’t want to react to it, my body didn’t care. It was impossible for me to ignore it, and after so long the others were learning how to do just that.
It was really pissing me off.
I sat up and massaged my head, feeling my stomach suddenly clench and churn.
I slid off the bed and walked over to the window before vomiting out of it, my adrenaline giving me a kick and waking me up.
After a bit of coughing and silence, I asked.
“How rested are you?”
Umara glanced at the others before responding.
“Enough, but you need more sleep.”
“Well I’m not getting it here. Everyone start packing. We’re heading to the citadel.”
They were all still for a bit before I heard movement. Beds and tents were packed, rations were brought out, and I lit a potent cigar after taking off my mask.
Its rejuvenating effects were, at this point, better for me than trying to get more sleep was. When I flushed my body with Psyka on top of it, I at least no longer felt sick.
After an hour we were mobile again, leaving the mansion we slept in and stepping back out onto the foggy streets. Everyone was fully armored and air filters were active in an attempt to make sure they weren’t breathing in the fog. How effective it actually was, we didn’t know.
The past two days we had done some recon and I had gotten my hands on some automatons. They were all broken since the active bots we had detected on the initial scans all turned out to be destroyed. There wasn’t a single active combat automaton, all of them scrapped by the Death Shrine.
We also had, in fact, confirmed that the roots burrowing into the citadel came from a Death Shrine. We hadn’t seen any Shrikes yet, but it was safe to say we’d find plenty within.
Thankfully I didn’t need live automatons to study. I had looked at the broken ones, collected fragmented schematics, and even managed to temporarily kickstart one. However, all of their cores were destroyed, making that area of study a lost cause.
This didn’t mean that I was fruitlessly scanning inert robot limbs, however. Since I knew we’d be facing a powerful Death Shrine, I had prepared plenty of Psykic formations. Things like seals and formations that would allow me to pick out and isolate another Neural Gem with more ease than crawling through a square mile of gushy brain pools.
More importantly though, I was working on something that would protect my mind from the Death Shrine, Shades, and something to purge the poisonous fog. If I kept going like this I would probaby break sooner rather than later, and I wasn’t interested in another psychotic episode like the one that made me burn that forest down. I was still recovering from that one and another would likely put me on a bed for a week.
I had made some progress, but not enough to use it yet. Umara was getting better at enchanting but demanding that she enchant the complex formations I was creating onto makeshift devices and without the best tools was still too difficult for her. Even Boris struggled with the things I asked of him and he had the most cutting edge workstation Sawn Industries could provide, not to mention what I had custom made, on top of his many years of experience.
Still, I was finding a way, with or without enchanting.
We marched closer to the citadel, finding our route in. The outer barriers and doors were broken down, but we hadn’t done recon deeper inside. We wanted to conceal our presence from the Death Shrine as long as possible. As soon as we entered, it would lock onto us and we’d be under attack until we managed to kill it.
Today, I was preparing to do just that. It was somewhere above the deepest and most important parts of the citadel, so in order to investigate the places we wanted to, we needed to eliminate it.
It would not be an easy task, because unlike the starved Death Shrine atop the mountains, this one was in the heart of the city. Kwon and Song had repeatedly warned me that this was the worst of it, that my mind would be decimated if I wasn’t careful, like last time.
But I was prepared. Although I hadn’t wanted to use it, I had come to this island with some weapons that would now secure our way into the citadel.
Some very dangerous weapons, especially considering all of my newfound knowledge.
We stepped atop some large roots while climbing our way to the center of the citadel. Inside there was more structure, more walls and doors that we had to pass through, but unlike the city beyond there were no Shades to speak of. Even they didn’t dare approach a Death Shrine.
“The wealth still amazes me.”
Aria muttered while looking around. The fog made it dark but everyone could still see the gilded halls and ornate statues that filled the rooms. There were paintings of dozens of different people and all of them had descriptions. Those, along with some context from Song and Kwon, told me plenty about their culture and gave me an idea about the upper echelon of both the Mantle back on the mainland and those that resided here.
Some deduction told me that this place was supposed to be both a beachhead to reach the Kingdom’s mainland as well as a place to preserve the Mantle that the Shadow Government wanted to endure. They had probably made this place as the resistance picked up steam, a contingency to ensure that their lines survived and could prosper in another place.
But what was initially an Elysium for the oligarchy had turned into a massive research facility once they encountered something extremely powerful. We still had no idea what it was, but at this point the details didn’t matter. It was something that could change the course of my Iron Legion’s development, as all of the resources from the stabilizers were already promising to do.
I just had to make sure I could keep Katta on a leash. God forbid she run back to her father and spill all these secrets. Then I’d have Anderson on my doorstep.
Bypassing all of the luxury we found ourselves going down the only pathway to the underground our recon had discovered. By simply following where the roots went, we were able to get a general direction.
The pathway was a large corridor with a stone staircase covered in small roots. The walls were shattered from all the larger metallic tree roots intertwined throughout them, pulsing with terrible intentions.
I could feel the stinging in my brain getting worse as we descended. From the staircase we found some other corridors, approaching the limits of our prior recon.
Then, the roots started branching in other directions, going through the ground instead of open tunnels. No longer making the corridors difficult to traverse, we continued until we came upon a large set of doors. Outside them were two large automata, collapsed on the ground in a heap, their limbs and bodies covered in thousands of wounds and disfigurations, speaking to the many hundreds of battles they endured against the Scourge and the Death Shrine.
Their cores were also destroyed, but in exchange for the lack of material to study, we didn’t have to fight our way past this entrance.
Unlike the automatons, this door was battered but unopened. Why the roots couldn’t break past them, I wasn’t sure, but I was about to find out.
The room was empty and relatively safe, so I approached the large doors and took out my SEER Knife. There was an obvious terminal for opening the doors as well as what looked like a scanner, a glass dome with some kind of ocular device within. The dome was shattered but the device within was untouched.
I stabbed my Knife into the terminal, watching it light up for the first time in decades. The screen was shattered but I didn’t need it for operation.
After getting past a batch of errors I found all the pathways, sending out interaction signals. I got responses, which meant whatever was operating the door was still live.
A good thing, because if it wasn’t, we probably wouldn’t be getting through.
I activated my new Neural Intrusion Software, the Neural Gem getting active as I let it out of its cage. It quickly spread through all of the systems connected to the terminal, my database churning out a readable series of data points that gave me an overview of all the systems and what they did.
There was a lot of unfamiliar coding that I got a return on. Probably more advanced Mantle programming meant for their secret stuff. Not that the Neural Gem cared. With some focused processing power I was able to break past anything with higher security and access whatever was locking the door.
Within a minute or so, I heard the heavy sound of latches being spun open. Everyone’s gaze flicked to the door, the ocular device flashing atop it.
The Neural Gem bypassed its visual confirmation, forcing the system to open the door. Dozens of errors were thrown and the ocular device, apparently also a transmitter, tried to make contact with the automatons.
They didn’t respond, and I had the neural gem eradicate the ocular device’s functions. With that, power was directed to the door.
It started sliding open, debris and stone being pushed out of the way as the metal doors swung open. The pressure difference between the two rooms caused air to shift, wind blowing against us and kicking up dust.
I smiled, leaving behind a Seed program and some backdoors before removing my Knife.
“Let’s go. We’re in this shit now.”
I adjusted my grip on Totenstahl, who was glowing with anticipatory wrath. I let the Umara walk in with her squad first, protocol in case there were traps that might instantly kill a summoner like me.
Not that I had detected any, but better safe than sorry.
There was silence as we entered the large underground plaza the doors led to. There were several doorways to other places and most of them had roots going through them.
No Death Shrine yet.
I looked around, sensing nothing particularly out of place. There were signs above each doorway, but generally the place was brutalist in nature. Unlike what we found above ground, there were no flamboyant decorations or tributes. Quite the opposite. Besides the signs, there were no other markings or outstanding items.
I looked at each of them, comprehending my choices quickly. I had learned most of the language after observing more and hearing Song and Kwon’s translations. Context helped but important words were obvious to me now.
I quickly picked a door, above which the sign said “Archive.”
It was half destroyed by roots, so with an easy pull of the knob it opened and revealed a large data center. There were stacks of devices, all of which were now covered in roots that broke open their shells to access what was within.
I sighed and walked over to a terminal that was relatively put together, stabbing the SEER Knife into it and breaking past logins and authentications.
I gained access to their archival software but it was clear at first glance that it was corrupted. There were tons of files and repositories missing or fractured into unreadable pieces.
Another large portion of it, however, was blocked off. I recognized what was barricading it.
The Death Shrine had taken control of the data, and its bioware was similar to the Neural Gem I was using. The only difference lay in the intelligence behind the construction of the bioware. It wasn’t animalistic like the Neural Gem’s. It was organized, structured, filled with intent.
Before touching it, I took out the Knife and turned to the others.
“Umara.”
“Hm?”
She turned to me as I walked over to her.
“The Death Shrine is holding some data, likely the important stuff. I can’t get it without alerting it so let’s explore more before I do.”
“Got it.”
She nodded, everyone leaving the archive.
We went through the other doorways. One led to a cafeteria, while another led to some living quarters. There were some other auxiliary facilities for general maintenance and even a workshop for some building automatons. If I was correct in my assumption though, nothing that we found was truly that secret.
We hadn’t found anything regarding our ultimate goal, so it was likely deeper inside where we’d find our Death Shrine. And if there was another level, that was likely where we’d find the juicy stuff and not some surface level toys.
Nevertheless, from what we saw, this level was for building not just automatons, but specialized ones relating in some way to the thing we were looking for. They were different from the broken ones we had come across.
The only detail I took note of was the fact that these automatons were designed to contain two cores instead of one, and the second core had formations that my enchantment training told me was for manipulating Vigor, not Mana.
Very peculiar.
After collecting all the data I could we went to the last door on our list. It was marked “Heart”, and the door was intact, though battered like the doors leading to this area. Apparently the Death Shrine had attempted to enter this way and failed, but that meant these doors were the ones we were looking for.
I just wondered what the Heart was supposed to be. Perhaps it was the very thing that needed to be stabilized.
I went to crack the entrance, but as soon as I stabbed the Knife into the terminal, I was greeted with a brick wall of hostile bioware from the Death Shrine. It had infiltrated this system, which wasn’t a good sign for multiple reasons.
I sighed and turned to Umara.
“We’re in a pickle.”
“What kind?”
“The door is controlled by the Death Shrine. I can only open it after I break through its bioware, but that means it’ll attack us until I do. Unfortunately the defenses are thick.”
“We can defend you. But didn’t you want the stuff from the Archive too?”
“Yup. I’m thinking we can ditch that data though. The important stuff isn’t here.”
“Alright. So we fight?”
“Yeah.”
I nodded, looking back at the terminal, my SEER Knife injecting some power
The Death Shrine became agitated. I could see its bioware sparkle with some activity.
I sighed, looking at Umara.
“Once we start, we won’t be stopping until we kill that Death Shrine. We’re going to have to fight our way toward it, wherever it is through this door.”
“We’re ready. But since you’re the one to kill that thing, make sure you’re worried about yourself. We can handle our fight.”
I didn’t respond, glancing at the others. They all seemed ready enough. They might not be perfectly rested, but they all had experience with the military and the kind of lifestyle fighting the Scourge demanded.
They were conditioned. They were skilled. Most importantly, against this enemy, we were all in this shit together.
I took another puff on my cigar before facing the terminal, my Knife flaring with energy, its Cipher Engine ramping up.
“No holding back.”
With those words I went full force, Psyka pouring into the Knife as I sent the Neural Gem on a rampage. The wall of bioware was eradicated with sheer stimulation, the space it occupied rapidly being usurped by my own systems, establishing a foothold.
But the other layers of defenses inherent to the Death Shrine were thick, and the response was quick. The entire plaza suddenly shook with a horrifying scream, all the roots in the area glowing with malevolence.
For a moment I could feel the danger approaching. We could sense the hundreds of Shrikes coming toward us. The Death Shrine was letting us know how many enemies were coming.
It knew we were here, and with nothing else to do, it was not just eager to come kill us, but overjoyed that it had new prey to torture.
I felt its sadistic intentions for as long as I cared to pay attention. Then, I focused wholly on the door.
The bioware flashed with renewed vigor, given bountiful energy to resist my intrusion. It shifted with intelligence, fighting back against my foothold and seeking to retake it.
Compared to the animalistic nature of my Neural Gem, the Death Shrines bioware was complex and fortified.
Unfortunately for it, I wielded the advanced principles of cybersecurity. Nothing that it could come up with could compare to the sheer depth of technicality that modern Earth had developed for its computers. The mathematical scale, the computational techniques that wielded the most extreme principles of both numbers and physics, rooted in the limits of the laws of the universe.
I may not know the half of it myself, but even knowing those vague ideas, my system would so far outclass the Death Shrine’s that despite having a fraction of the Psykic power at my disposal, I would beat it.
The most obvious proof of that came in the first few seconds. As the hordes of Shrikes came sprinting through outer corridors and tunnels, I watched as the Death Shrine’s bioware thrashed against the security and encryptions of the foundation I carved out for myself.
In this cyberspace, it couldn’t fight with the oppressive power of Psyka. That would only give it faster computing power, and so long as it didn’t know the math, no amount of that could do anything to my own.
So it slammed against my wall of complexity futilely. Not a bit of space was taken from me. On the contrary, I started carving away at the bioware as the Cipher Engine launched attacks with my Psyka, codified with impossibilities that the bioware couldn’t make sense of.
The more space I took, the more systems I gained access to. Once I had enough, I’d be able to open the door.
But the Death Shrine resisted with so much energy that my little SEER Knife actually approached max throughput. It was perfectly sustainable, but my shock came from the fact that I had never before seen that kind of activity from any of my systems before.
Thankfully the software I developed for it could scale. They would handle themselves until I either got what I needed and pulled out, or when they took over every byte of space in this system.
Unfortunately, this time would be paid for by the others.
I heard the screams as Shrikes started crashing through doorways, clawing their way forward with blistering insanity.
Yet I focused solely on my task, letting my Desert Eagles do theirs.
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