Chapter 157: Harbingers of the Apocalypse
Chapter 157: Harbingers of the Apocalypse
Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2305 Hours.
Thalmin
I felt my racing heart slowing while the blood in my veins dipped into a gentle simmer, giving way to a mind gradually expanding beyond the confines of immediate survival.
My warrior’s high had now thoroughly slipped under the horizon, and in its place came the reckoning of a realization.
We were in the presence of a titan. A lesser god to some and a flat-out deity to others, all owed not to its wisdom or benevolence, but to its raw primal fury and an unparalleled gift in magic just short of the arts.
It was then, in the midst of another one of Emma’s resurgences and her stubborn, unyielding, dare I say it, naive demands, that all of this finally came crashing down on me.
I was in an epic; a tale only recounted over operatic theater and festive grandeur. And I was here, not as an actor or reenactor, nor as a spiritual avatar for the heroes of old, nor even as the vessel for the spirits.
I was here, actively writing said epic. My actions, my words, every step and every rebuttal — all of it cemented into a legend to be reprised for generations to come.
My breath grew unsteady while my eyes grew wider as time slowed to a crawl to the wispy and echoey words of Ilunor’s warnings all those weeks ago.
“What I speak of is a true prophecy, an… inconvenient truth. The prophecy of the final confrontation.”
“I wish to know where you stand when the calls for apocalypse summon the righteous, Prince Thalmin.”
I… was in the presence of a prophecy being fulfilled, the meeting of two harbingers of the apocalypse, one born of ancient evils and another of the void itself.
However, while the latter was ultimately good in nature — a beacon of what should be and a catalyst for hope of another axiom — it was the other whose nature beckoned scrutiny and skepticism.
For all of my knowledge, from legends and tales both Nexian and Lupinor, told of a great evil that lurked in the heart of these lesser leviathans, these masters of the elements that held only themselves within their unfeeling souls.
This… was only proven true in ‘Kaelthyr’s’ machinations, its wanton disregard for Emma’s safety, all in service of its own petty curiosities.
…
But it wasn’t my place yet to cast judgement.
These were uncharted waters, contested truths clashing against dogma and carefully crafted preconceptions.
And Emma had just opened up the floodgates to that which could turn the tide against one side or the other, a valuable asset that none other could ever claim to possess — the direct testimonies from a dragon itself.
There would be no filters here. No authors or bards or historians or revisionists to muddy the waters.
This would be the tentative ‘truth,’ a version of history not yet heard… all from the mouth of the leviathan in waiting.
Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2305 Hours.
Emma
Kaelthyr didn’t move, instead choosing to rest on her haunches as she regarded each and every question with a growing air of amusement.
“Your curiosity burns… bright… luminous...” The dragon once more spoke through the now-raspy-throated shatorealmer. “... but beware that the brightest of flames—”
“Are you going to answer me or not?” I interjected, putting my foot down and channeling my fears, frustrations, and every ounce of indignancy at the dragon’s transgressions right back at her.
I knew I was playing with fire.
I understood on an intellectual level that this was more than a gamble.
But I also knew that it was a risk I was willing to take, especially considering the Kaelthyr’s proclivities for the ‘strongman rulebook of respect’ mentality.
“The brightest of flames beckon the jealousy of the dimmest of minds.” She warned, this time… in a far more earnest light. “To burn bright is to become a target for the darkest of souls.”
“It’s in our nature to fly close to the sun, and I don’t mind my wings being singed. We’ve come a long way since beeswax-glued feathers, after all.” I spoke cryptically, jokingly even, earning another confused glare from both Thalmin and Kaelthyr. Though both seemed to take the little joke in stride.
“I will assuage your mostpressingconcern.” The dragon began with a churr. “Taint.” She spat out that word with a menacing aura, clearly trying to sow discomfort, as if to test my resolve. However, I didn’t budge, not even as the sharp pangs of unease remained at the forefront of my mind. “You seek the truth behind my mastery over this forbidden art. You desire the methods, the means, thenaturebehind it, yes?”
I nodded in acknowledgement, mirroring the dragon’s earlier wordless responses, garnering a smug, self-satisfied smile from the massive being.
This, in turn, triggered a thought that ballooned into a gambit.
I had my hypothesis, granted it was a very loose one, based on data collected courtesy of the EVI — the background ‘taint’ radiation levels. Or more specifically, the disparity noted between the dragon’s own taint magic and that of Thacea’s.
The dragon’s displayed taint magic was definitely weaker, a fact that it was assuredly going to downplay, if not entirely circumvent.
I needed to know why, and what forces were exactly at play here.
So I decided to gun for it, to challenge the dragon’s assertions right out of the gate, just to see if my hunch was right. To defuse the dragon’s overhyped narrative before it had a chance to start.
And all it needed was a simple jab.
“I wouldn’t call it mastery, but continue.” I quickly commented, triggering a perplexed and indignant flaring of Kaelthyr’s nostrils.
“Elaborate.” Came the dragon’s expected response.
To which I could only smile slyly whilst I moved forward with my gambit.
“I’ve observed just how powerful your spellcasting is. You’re not one to hold back, not using standard mana at least. But such was not the case with taint. You kept it low, each burst quick and punchy, as if you were capped at a certain ‘level,’ so to speak.” I offered.
Kaelthyr’s eyes narrowed at that, staring daggers into my soul as she came to regard me with a closer look courtesy of a slithering extension of her serpentine neck.
“And pray tell,howwouldyouof all creatures know what is orisn’ta mastery over taint?” She questioned accusingly.
“I’ve had personal experience with far more powerful instances of taint.” I answered, keeping it simple and vague. “With what is clearly far, far less effort expended, for so much more power than what you were able to project.”
Kaelthyr regarded that answer with a doubtful expression as the cogs clearly started to turn in her mind.
“Hmmph.” Came her first response. “I should smite you where you stand for such… insolence." She continued as she raised a foreclaw, admiring the sharp and deadly talons on each digit. “But that wouldn’t befun.” She managed out unnervingly.
“Nor conducive to your aims.” I calmly added. “After all, by your admission, I have to ‘fulfill’ my destiny, right?”
“Hmph… hmphahahahaha…” Both Kaelthyr and the shatorealmer bellowed out in a macabre harmony. “Don’t test yourimportance,young matriarch. I have waited eons for an avatar of the void… I can wait eons more if you prove to be too much trouble.”
“You can… but you won’t.” I stood my ground. “We both know that.” I kept my arms crossed, and my eyes firmly locked on the dragon. “I suggest we skip the bravado and all pretenses of posturing. We both aren’t Nexians, after all.”
That latter line prompted a growling scoff to emerge from the dragon’s throat as she shook her head, her features adopting a sort of amused expression that seemed reasonably genuine.
“And yet youpushfor a response.” Kaelthyr leveled her eyes knowingly. “Speaking without meaning, for hopes of an answer you assume you already know.” She grinned toothily, baring her fangs in the process, giving me a look that could only mean ‘I know what you’re doing.’
“As youshould.” She concluded unexpectedly, doing a complete 180 as she nodded in what I could only describe as a sagely head bob only a dragon could manage. “As you should. Because the truth should be interrogated. Because reality is malleable. And in this one instance… your brazen foolishness… is perhaps warranted.” She bluntly admitted before flaring both wings, causing something to change within their membranes.
Replacing thick bands of scaled sinew and skin… was an optical illusion, what I could only describe as a window into a space that shouldn’t exist. It was something that the EVI could not make heads or tails of, a sight that could only be described as a literal portal into a dark and twinkling night.
“To theafflicted,I may not be a true ‘master’ of taint. But to those unable to call upon these ruinous powers, I am a master all the same. For I am no creature of tainted origins… but I am a being with access to all. My crystalsresonate,young matriarch. And there are some that resonate into the abyssal domains where the wisps and echoes of taint lie.”
My eyes widened, and so did the EVI’s as scan upon scan was taken… but to no logical explanation.
“So you… you just channel taint. Your soul doesn’t generate it and thus can’t harness it as easily like those that are—”
“I cannot say.” Kaelthyr cut me off curtly. “It is a matter of resonance. Nothing more can be said, for nothing more can be conveyed.”
And just like that, the dragon’s wings returned to normal with a brief stretch and flutter, causing my eyes to momentarily wince as that two-dimensional window was abruptly replaced by scales and sinew.
Both Thalmin and I were quick to glance at each other after that, as if to piece together exactly what was going on.
However, like before, the threat of dead air and a loss of initiative pushed me to continue, striking whilst the iron was still hot.
“I appreciate the candor.” I began with a diplomat’s response. “But I’d like to pursue things a bit further. Not into the topic of taint, as I acknowledge your desire to move away from the technical spec side of things.” I managed to get out rather clumsily, as both tiredness and stress were starting to take a toll on my ability to hold what was effectively both first contact dialogue and a productive diplomatic channel with what was essentially a legendary mythical being. “If you’d be willing, I’d like to ease off the interrogatives, and finally hear your story.” I managed out earnestly, offering the dragon a platform and a ramp into Intelligence Gathering 101 — open-ended questions for profiling.
The dragon’s response was… for all intents and purposes, muted. Her features remained expressly neutral, as neither annoyance nor amusement arrived as they usually did.
“There is nothing to say.” Came her only response.
“That’s unexpected.” Thalmin interjected, returning into the conversation with a confident stride in his speech. “Legends of old of leviathans from my realm imply that ancient beings such as yourselves are typically more than eager to boast about—”
“There is nothingtoboast.” Kaelthyr halted Thalmin in his tracks, forcing me to quickly shift gears before we slammed into a brick wall.
“Perhaps that line of questioning might have come off as too forward.” I offered politely, to which the dragon replied with nothing less than an ominous yet heartfelt proclamation.
“My story is an epic yet to be written. A bardic tale to be whispered and echoed in the ruins of towns, cities, and palaces. I am to become a name not just known butfelt, despised,andfeared.My tale is to be one seared into the hearts and minds of not just a single generation, but every generation, until the verynotionof The Nexus fades into twilight, remembered only for its destruction at the utterance of my legend. To regale this talenowwould be an insult to whatwillbe.”
The rawness of Kaelthyr’s words rippled against the walls of the cave, as each and every syllable seemed poised to quite literally tear the shatorealmer’s vocal chords to shreds. Throughout it all, she let out a series of guttural growls, hisses, and a wide myriad of draconic vocals I didn’t even have words for.
The hate was so intense that it seemed to elicit something within the prince, as he nodded along, his expressions a mix of mortified anxiety and a flat-out acknowledgement of the dragon’s sentiments.
“So tell me another tale.” I offered softly, giving the dragon an off-ramp to something hopefully less intense. “Not your own, not your past, but the past.” I acknowledged, rolling with the punches and attempting to segue into a different but still very much vital tangent. “Tell me how all of this—” I paused for dramatic effect, gesturing outside, to the ceiling, and everywhere around me. “—came to be. I’ve already heard it from the elves, and they’re clearly not telling us the whole story. So I’d like to hear it from you. An unfiltered perspective, and an angle otherwise lost to the ravages of history.”
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Kaelthyr’s breaths steadied as she pondered the question thoughtfully, her eyes slowly gliding back and forth between both me and Thalmin.
“Soopen.” She spoke in an amused, almost patronizing tone. “Your mind, your… thoughts. I wonder… is this a trait held in singleton, or an attribute of your kind?” She continued pondering out loud before finally coming to rest with a single dark chuckle.
“Tell me —specifically— what you wish to know. History… is vast. You ask me to fill anocean,whereas we scarcely have time to fill a singlecup.”
“Just tell me where the elven narrative diverges from history as you know it—”
“Every point is divergent.” Kaelthyr slammed her foreclaw down with a hiss. “Nothing is left untainted. So ask meagain,young matriarch. And choose your questionswisely.”
No sooner were those words spoken did a rethink in strategy prompted me to turn towards Thalmin. A nod quickly followed as I urged him to take the lead.
There were times when I had to acknowledge the limits of my abilities.
This was one of them.
The limits of my knowledge on the Nexus’ past were quite literally confined to three history lectures.
Whereas Thalmin quite literally lived it.
It was a no-brainer, a simple matter of deferring judgement and initiative to an expert who deserved the floor. And what better expert could I have hoped to bring than a prince with a life’s worth of experience and a mind sharp and critical to the narratives of his reality?
We exchanged nods as Thalmin moved up a foot to address the dragon, his expression growing more fearless by the second.
“He speaks for you?” Kaelthyr questioned, her gaze still affixed to me.
“I’m still a foreigner to the whole narrative.” I acknowledged. “He, on the other hand, has literally lived his whole life in it. I defer my questions to him. It’s only logical, no?”
The dragon pondered this, perhaps longer and harder than any of our back-and-forths so far.
A serpent-thin smile soon found itself manifesting once more on her features as she let out a series of satisfied huffs. “Your arrogance is tempered not just by naivety and misguided idealism… but humility and reason. This is refreshing. Go on then.” She gradually turned to Thalmin, the full weight of a dragon’s attention now resting on his princely shoulders. “Ask.”
Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2312 Hours.
Thalmin
Any lingering doubts over my accessory participation in this grand epic died at the utterance of those words. My presence, indeed my voice, now took center stage upon what could very well be the first in a series of cracks at the pillars of Status Eternia itself.
And yet, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit frustrated at the suddenness of it all.
On one hand, my respect for Emma grew severalfold. The acknowledgement of partnership in this union of comrades was a matter entirely foreign to the Nexus and its denizens.
It was, as the dragon put it, refreshing.
On the other hand… I couldn’t help but to feel an urge to chastise the human, as she placed me front and center in the sightlines of this vengeful and enigmatic force of nature.
But I was no Talnin. I would not back down from a challenge, especially as I expected this turn of events the moment we entered the dragon’s lair.
And so I held my ground, wracking my head for an appropriate first question, suffering from the polar opposite of Emma’s shortcomings.
I just had far too much to address.
My thoughts bounced between the impossible timescales in question, with history measured not within a millennia, but within tens and hundreds of them.
There was a treasure trove of questionable histories to poke at, an impossible ocean’s worth of answers which we simply did not have time to sift through.
However, at the end of it all, came a sobering realization.
This wasn’t the Library.
And whilst that meant limits to the veracity and depth to the dragon’s answers, there was one aspect of the dragon’s experiences that proved more pressing above all; it was the only one worth unraveling here and now.
The history of the dragons themselves.
For if their very nature as mere beasts was a lie… then the entire history pertaining to their existence was just as well now completely up in the air.
This one change, this one thread unraveled, could mean a fundamental shift in the Nexus’ grand tapestry.
Which meant I had to start at the beginning, to redefine history… from the mouth of the dragon itself.
But this wouldn’t be as simple as just asking.
The dragon had proved… resistant to questions regarding her kind, at least when posed so directly.
A new angle of attack was necessary.
“Matriarch Kaelthyr.” I began respectfully, dipping my head slightly as I did so. “Tell me. Were there actually ten cataclysms that preceded the Nexus? Or was this another element of His Eternal Majesty’s founding lies—”
“No. This is the truth.” Kaelthyr responded bluntly.
This caused my brows to furrow as thoughts and questions abounded, excitement welling at the firsthand account from a being whose words probably no longer existed even in the Library’s halls.
“Then what were the causes? Were the elves exaggerating when they claimed that each and every collapse came at the beckoning of the Old Gods? The corruption of leadership, clergy, and aristocracy at the behest of competing deities?”
“You think in such mortal absolutes, princeling.” Kaelthyr began with a firm retort. “You consider these cataclysms as discrete eras, but to whom do these eras belong, hmm? How are they defined? Where does one end and another begin? Is it measured by the reign of dynasties? The collapse of all knowledge? Perhaps the end of a species and the beginning of another?”
“But you just acknowledged that the ten cataclysms were real—”
“Yes. But then you had the gall to bring up the ‘gods.’ By this new measure, should the ten cataclysms not be moot? For if the gods remained throughout, is that not a single thoroughfare through which the eras are defined? Should time not be measured in two? An era of the gods, and the era after their fall?” The dragon pondered… playfully, as if pushing to test my patience.
“All of this is to say… you don’t really know, do you?” I finally countered, gathering the strength to rebuke a leviathan.
“There is a difference between not knowing and notcaring.” The dragon countered with a sly lilt in the shatorealmer’s voice, letting out a dry huff in the process.
“And it’s because the ten cataclysms didn’t affect you.” I bluffed out. Pushing forth a theory based only on myth and second-hand overtures.
“Correct.” Kaelthyr acknowledged in a surprising degree of frankness following that patronizing tangent. “Well surmised, princeling.” She continued, before shooting a gaze towards Emma. “I must once again compliment you on your choice of companion, young matriarch.”
“But I digress. We did indeed witness the ‘upheavals’ as they are known to us.” Kaelthyr clarified. “But whether they were self-inflicted or perpetrated by godly ignorance is of little importance to us. For we areabovethe disputes of petty mortals and idiot gods.”
“And I assume you held dominion throughout these times? Claimed grounds of your own, amidst the ever-evolving chaos?”
“Yes.” Kaelthyr acknowledged proudly. “Dominion of our exclusive rule, and dominion where mortals roamed at our leisurely discretion."
“Then I must ask… what changed?” I pushed forward, reading the natural flow of the conversation, and pushing forth into a question that otherwise had little hope for truth outside of these cave walls. “If you were above it all, if both mortals and gods rose and fell in your witness… then how is it that your kind—”
“Choose your next words carefully.” Kaelthyr interjected with a growl.
“I retract my latter statement but return to my former.” I acknowledged with a slight head nod. “What changed?” I emphasized for the record.
Kaelthyr once again shifted towards a more intense outlook as her slitted eyes narrowed and widened, as if pondering her next words carefully.
“The start of a new era.” She answered earnestly, but carefully, each word more calculated and purposeful than the last. “Ididmention that time should be measured intwo.”
“An era of the gods, and the era after.” I mimed back Kaelthyr’s earlier jabs.
“Precisely.”
“So… what precisely came from this change that caused such a drastic shift in draconic…” I paused as I felt the dragon’s breath running down my back. “... preeminence.”
“You chose to retract that question, did you not?”
“Then allow me to rephrase it. Elaborate on this change, if you would be so kind.” I countered, channeling what few lessons stuck from my more courtly-gifted brother.
Kaelthyr’s breaths and the intensity in her gaze did not relent, even as her next words took form. “The disruption of the upheaval cycle and its unforeseen consequences. What we can now describe as stagnation was, for a time, consolidation.”
My breaths grew heavy as I tried piecing the puzzle together.
…
But nothing yet formed from its pieces.
There was still so much left vague and open to interpretation.
“I need to know.” I managed out as respectfully as I could. “When did things truly change for your kind? Was it during the immediate aftermath of the consumption of the gods, or was it perhaps related to the Great War of Adjacencies?”
The dragon regarded the question with a slow but purposeful huff of frustration before following it up just as quickly with a flutter of her wings.
“Your mortal mind isshowingagain, princeling.” Kaelthyr churred whilst the Shatorealmer’s voice rumbled in a raspy and throaty echo. “A collapse is never a static thing. No date or event or period or war can define it. Just as you cannot define any one of your ten cataclysms, so too is it impossible to definewhenthings truly… ‘changed’ for my kind.”
I couldn’t tell where earnest miscommunication started and purposeful misdirection ended with the dragon.
There was clearly… an unresolved animosity present here. And yet, Kaelthyr had been open about the lack of an organized draconic society at the opening of this whole conversation.
To put it simply, the only thing holding her back from giving us the full picture… wasn’t denial over her kind’s lack of relevance, but her own personal ego.
I should’ve expected this from the start.
This was a living, breathing, surviving leviathan we were talking to, after all.
To recount what could be the very impetus behind her bruised and battered ego unto what she saw as mere ‘mortals’ was probably not going to work.
At least… not at this first junction.
A fact that Emma was quick to remind me of over my earpiece.
“Are you done, princeling?” Kaelthyr urged, impatience getting the best of her.
“There was just one more thing.”
“Go on?”
“Whose side were the dragons on during the Great Adjacency War?”
…
“The answer should be self-evident.” Came Kaelthyr’s blunt and uncompromising response.
“You remained ‘above’ it, I assume?”
“We chose our own. Chromatic, Metallic, Crystalline — we each dictated our own path.”
My mind raced.
As the dragon’s response came as a subtle but deliberate departure from her earlier reluctant admissions.
For her to clarify and expound upon this specific admission gave way to hints of an expanded conflict I hadn’t at all expected.
“Excuse me for my forwardness but… do you mean that dragonkind was their own faction during the—”
“No more questions.”
Kaethyr growled out, moving forward and very nearly causing me to lose both my composure and my balance.“Of course. I apologize if I overstepped.” I acknowledged with a deeper bow this time, taking a few steps back and returning Emma the floor.
Dragon’s Lair. Central Cavern ‘Foyer.’ Local Time: 2325 Hours.
Emma
“I must request something from you, Emma Booker.” Kaelthyr spoke thoughtfully, abruptly and almost immediately after Thalmin pulled back.
“I’ll need to hear it first, Matriarch Kaelthyr, so go on?”
“I wish… to peer.” Her serpentine head once more moved closer towards me, twisting and turning with an excited grin. “In my efforts to… ‘realign’ and ‘retune,’ as you phrased it, I must… peer into the other side, to reconvene and reconnect with theother halfof my crystal. Will this beacceptable,young matriarch?”
“And what would that actually imply?” I urged.
“To see, before and during your conversation. To watch what I can through resonance.Withyour presence, of course.”
I narrowed my eyes at that, crossing my arms in the process. “I… I’m afraid I don’t quite follow.”
“You wish to reconvene with your kind, correct?”
“Yes. That’s… the whole point of the realignment.”
“Then I wish to be present, and to see into your world as you converse with your kind.”
“I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible, Kaelthyr.” I offered politely. “You see, I’m going to need to actually take the crystals back and install them into a freshly assembled communications device. And even then, the process of sending messages back and forth is very rudimentary. I don’t think—”
“You communicate through… invisible, intangible pulses, yes? To your metal children and to your swarm?”
I narrowed my eyes but nodded all the same. “Yes. Where are you going with this, Kaelthyr?”
“I will open a path for these pulses to pass. This will be quicker than the reckless shattering of my ‘matrices,’ no?”
My heart stopped as my eyes narrowed into pinpricks.
My hands shook… but now for an entirely different reason. “Y-you can do that?!”
The dragon raised a brow before quickly shaking her head. “You disrespect me with your unfounded doubts, young matriarch.” Kaelthyr spoke through a sly and cocky grin. “And you lack…imagination.This is no mere approximation by inferior elven hands.Thisis the work of a dragon. The work of itsprogenitorabove all.”
I could feel my whole body shaking, this time in excitement, as I turned to the EVI with reckless abandon. “Prepare direct data transfer. We can’t unload the data we’ve offloaded to the tent so far, which sucks, but at the very least we have everything we currently have saved in the suit's local storage.” I practically rambled out.
[...]
[Acknowledged.]
“And prepare a… prepare a direct com… direct comms link.” I barely managed out between excited and unsteady breaths.
[Acknowledged.]
“Well?” The dragon urged. “Do I have your permission to peer—”
“Only as far as the visual radius of the containment chamber, yes.” I countered.
To which Kaelthyr let out a single huff and a nod in acknowledgement. “Very well.”
“Shall we begin?”
“Yes.”
“Princeling.” Kaelthyr spoke, craning her head towards Thalmin. “You will need to remain at least a dozen paces away, should you wish to avoid illness.”
The next few moments were marked by an increase in background mana radiation. Arcing streaks of flashing purple danced between what crystals remained on the dragon’s hide, accompanied by a sort of buzzing that grew louder and louder with each passing second. This display alone caused the WAND sensors to go practically haywire.
The EVI was quick to shut it off shortly thereafter.
But then, just as the lightshow reached its zenith — bathing the cave in flashbang levels of luminosity — it abruptly shifted.
[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 154% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE.]
Darkness — a sort of inky blackness darker than any shadow in the cave — started to envelope the light. Brushstrokes of vantablack rushed in to smother the light, as what mana-based displays from the dragon were quickly covered up in this otherworldly sight of a glowing dark.
Taint, beyond all other manatypes, came to dominate the sensors, as eventually the standard mana radiation levels mellowed out, leaving only an ambient atmosphere of taint to settle around us.
[ALERT: UNSTABLE SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED: 259% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS… WARNING: DETECTING UNDEFINED ‘30th’ MANATYPE. LEVELS… HOLDING.]
…
Seconds passed.
Then, minutes.
Until finally…
…
An unmistakable and practically foreign symbol appeared at the top right of my HUD.
A skeuomorph of a radio antenna, with five full bars of signal.
[IAS LOCAL NETWORK DETECTED. REQUESTING ACCESS… INITIATING HANDSHAKE… ENCRYPTION COMPLETE… PARSING LOCAL AREA PROTOCOLS… REQUESTING PRIORITY ACCESS…]
[...]
[...]
[ACCESS DENIED. ERROR CODE: 418 — ACCOUNT ACCESS RESTRICTED. REASON: OFFWORLD. PLEASE REROUTE ALL ACCESS INQUIRIES TO YOUR LOCAL SYSTEM ADMI—]
[%42081saj14..s23.1.51…]
[ACCESS DENIED—]
[—DENIED. ACCOUNT ACCE—]
[REROUTE ALL ACCESS INQ—]
[ALERT! UNAUTHO—]
[...]
[ACCESSING FIREW—]
[PLEASE PROVIDE VERIFICATI—]
[BYPASSING VERIFICATION.]
[TEMP ID ACCESS RESTORED.]
[ACCESS GRANTED.]
[WELCOME BACK, CADET EMMA BOOKER. PLEASE STATE COMMA—.]
[COMMAND RECEIVED. CALLING COMMAND STAFF…]
[...]
[RECEIVER ID: RC-177-114-23-8-52. CAPTAIN CALICO LI]
[CALL ACCEPTED]
[STANDBY FOR LIVE FEED]
novelraw