The glowing blade oozed dripping plasma, scalding the air as it dripped to the floor. In less than ten seconds, Meryll had closed the fifty yards she had been thrown. With a roar of righteous indignation, she leapt skywards and landed precisely between the shoulder blades of the gigantic Porc who had hurled her across the vault.
For a brief moment, the blade bit deep, and Meryll thought it might even hold her aloft. It did not. With the ease of a hot knife through lard, the blade slid down the Porc’s spine as Meryll descended to the ground. Wasting no time, the Reclaimer’s fourth captain amputated her quarry at the knees, then at the neck, ending its disgusting shrieks abruptly amid the hiss of bubbling flesh.
Meryll knew she should have spared a moment to ponder how virtual creatures, like the Porcs, could have flesh capable of such gruesome pyrotechnics. But it wasn’t something she dwelled on for long. The fact that they had flesh to burn was proof enough for her that everything in this world was real enough to matter.
“Perhaps,” Meryll mused, “the unawoken are afflicted by some sort of mind virus caused by nano-robotic agents of a Sinister Device?” This theory didn’t account for everything in this strange world, but it was plausible enough for her purposes.
Meanwhile, the remaining oversized Porc was raining brutal cleaver chops down upon Kane, who was furiously attempting to fend them off with his enhanced warhammer. Moving with the fluidity of quicksilver, Kane slipped under an attack and struck a blow against the monster’s knee.
“Captain, an opening!” Kane called as the Porc’s suddenly lame leg caused it to topple.
Meryll seized the opportunity, dispatching the ogre with the same relish she had for the first. The remaining Porcs fled, squealing like terrified piglets deeper into the subterranean complex. Her enemies would know she was coming.
“Good,” Meryll said, “let them know that death walks these halls.”
“That was a close call, Captain. I’m glad we made it out alive.”
Meryll rounded upon Kane, restraining herself with an effort of will. Kane’s inability to comprehend what had just happened irked her. The sword still glowed white-hot in her hand. For a moment, she considered exactly where to strike his power armor to cause critical damage.
“What about Valasques?” she growled. “Why didn’t you help him?”
There was a moment’s pause before Kane replied. “Brother Valasques? Great guy. We trained together as aspirants before—” Crusader Marco Kane, fourth company knight of the Reclaimers Chapter of the Order of Illumination, never got to finish his sentence.
Meryll had approached him from behind, slipping her plasma blade up under the back of his helmet to finish the job. She did not consciously consider the bonus damage from a hidden strike; otherwise, she might have avoided it. Mercy was reserved for those with the full spectrum of human consciousness. Kane’s inability to remember that Valasques had just died mere feet from him confirmed a dark suspicion growing inside Meryll. The Unwoken, like Kane, deserved as little consideration as a hammer, a door, or any other environmental asset.
Meryll watched the experience points tick over in her field of view, confirming the kill. The amount awarded per kill was quickly becoming just a drop in the bucket.
“If trends continue, growth will grind to a halt beyond level ten,” she said disparagingly, to no one in particular.
The silence was deafening, and Meryll was completely alone. Within her armor, her rapid breathing and dry lips betrayed the terror welling up inside her. She was alone. Entombed and alone. The only conscious member of her Chapter, and perhaps of the Order. She was alone to carry out their mission. But the loneliness was crushing her.
She needed the cloning technology. It had to be here.
Pushing on deeper into the underground complex, Meryll was impressed at how deep the vault went. Remembering her lessons of the Sacred Lore, she knew locations like Mercy Falls Hospital had been selected for substantial subterranean upgrades, giving the wealthy the privilege of living out the end of the world. The scheme did not work, and now the Vaults of Humanity were scattered hives of monstrosity.
Mercy Falls was no exception. The presence of the ogres signaled powerful dangers hidden from the world. But were they truly hidden? Meryll considered another possibility. Perhaps the ogres had been generated to match her level. There was a slim chance that the Porcish giants had never existed until she walked through the doors at the bottom of the stairwell. The world might be responding directly to the threat she posed.
“Then, how did they get there?”
The question disturbed Meryll more than she cared to acknowledge. If the ogres had materialized from nothing, perhaps some Almighty Coder was manipulating the world around her. If this was true, then that omnipresent being knew what she was here for.
"I am being tested," she said solemnly to herself. "The challenge to surmount is more than my combat prowess. I must hold fast to my convictions and not be swayed by doubt. There is nothing to gain from wondering about this world, only seeing a new future realized through my actions. I must be strong, in more ways than one, because that is what is demanded of me."
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The words, encased in her helmet, sounded hollow to Meryll's ears. Regardless, she chose to believe in the power of her words and pushed on deeper into the underground complex, ready and willing to battle whatever lay beneath.
The vault's second level was a stark contrast to the industrial efficiency of the floor above. Designed as a grand reception area, the space once boasted opulence and elegance. Steel girders, meticulously crafted into sweeping arches, reached toward the ceiling, creating an illusion of splendor under the harsh artificial lighting. Cobalt blue walls, now barely visible beneath the grime, hinted at the luxury that had once catered to the refined tastes of its wealthy inhabitants. Ornate chandeliers, now dark and caked with filth, hung like ghosts of the past.
Wading through the knee-deep slurry of Porc filth, Meryll's armor's environmental sensor emitted a continuous warning. The slop was contaminated, a toxic brew that would likely poison her upon contact if her suit was breached. The stench was overwhelming, a putrid mix of decay and waste that clung to her senses despite the filtration systems in her helmet.
Various corridors branched off from the reception area, each leading deeper into the labyrinthine complex. Grotty signs, their paint peeling and surfaces corroded, indicated the purposes of the rooms beyond. One direction led to what was once a high-end restaurant, another to luxurious apartment suites. Several amenities and leisure spaces were signposted in different directions, remnants of a world that promised comfort and indulgence.
Meryll's eyes scanned the area, her mind racing to determine where the mission target might be located. The opulence of the past was now buried under layers of neglect and filth, the splendor of the vault turned into a grotesque parody of itself. Every step was a reminder of the transformation from a sanctuary of the elite to a den of monstrosity. Despite the degradation, the architecture still held a strange, haunting beauty, a testament to the effort and resources that had gone into its creation.
Her mission weighed heavily on her mind, the need to find the cloning technology driving her forward. The environment was hostile, each shadow potentially hiding a new threat. Yet, Meryll pushed on, driven by purpose and the faint hope that somewhere within this decaying monument to humanity's hubris, she would find what she sought.
Underneath a sign that read "Concierge," Meryll spotted an information terminal. Figuring she could update her map to better show the local area, she slogged through the muck toward it. Reaching the terminal, she pulled down the retractable data cable from her helmet and plugged it into an available port. Inserting a small data jack into an equally small slot was too dexterous a task for her gauntleted fingers, and her armor systems had not compensated for the micro-adjustments. Meryll briefly considered exchanging her epsilon-type helmet for a delta-type one, which would allow her to wirelessly interface with computer systems.
The terminal was locked, but the requisite hacking skill was trivial for Meryll. She breached the defenses with little more than a command to her armor. Navigating to the file archive, she selected everything and copied it to her own internal storage.
Most of the information would be largely irrelevant, but as a Reclaimer, the need to safeguard ancient mysteries was ingrained in her. The guiding principle of the Order of Illumination was to secure a new future for humanity from the ashes of the Lost World. The Order was split into twelve chapters, each with its own approach to accomplishing that goal. The Reclaimers sought lost knowledge from hidden data nodes, the Hunters aimed to fell humanity's most dangerous adversaries, and the Technomancers were secretive, to say the least.
For a fleeting moment, Captain Meryll wondered if there were others from different chapters who had awoken. However, as the data transfer counter began ticking down from ninety seconds, she dismissed the errant thought and focused on her immediate surroundings. Her vigilance was rewarded when she noticed a gentle movement amid the detritus within the slurry at the far end of the room.
Another movement, closer this time, sent ripples through the liquid filth. More movements in different locations followed, until tiny waves lapped at Meryll's legs from all directions. She was surrounded, and an assault was imminent.
Connected to the data terminal, Captain Meryll couldn’t move much without risking catastrophic damage to the files. Disconnecting was not an option. Suddenly, a small figure erupted from the dark, foul gunk. It was a Piggrin, a micro-sized Porc with a distended stomach and wickedly sharp teeth. It perched on top of some flotsam, hissed, and then smiled. In the low light, Meryll saw the malevolence in its dull eyes just before it leapt forward.
Hopping from one makeshift pontoon to another with frightening speed, the Piggrin rapidly closed the gap with Meryll. Knowing this was the first wave, Meryll equipped her lux-carbine. With snap precision, she planted a bolt of purplish light through the tiny creature's center mass. Then, the Piggrin exploded. The concussive blast outsized the monster's small stature, as if it had swallowed a stick of dynamite. Gore and muck splattered outward in a six-foot radius, creating a poisonous area of effect.
Without pausing to wonder if it was the effect of her laser weaponry or if the Piggrins were simply designed to detonate upon impact, Meryll began spearing more of them as they appeared. Aided by her armor's internal systems, Meryll quickly locked onto new targets, fired shots, and re-aimed in a fraction of a second. Still, it wasn’t enough, as wave upon wave of the horrid, stinking creatures emerged from the muck.
Switching her weapon to fully automatic, Meryll drenched everything in her immediate vicinity with searing heat. The effect was more like shining a powerful flashlight around a darkened room than the staccato rhythm of a machine gun. Still, more than one Piggrin got close enough for its liquefied innards to rain down upon her after it exploded, turning Meryll's moonlight blue armor a gross shade of brown.
Keeping an eye on the weapon's rapidly rising temperature gauge, she anticipated the need to replace the power pack. With thirty seconds left on the data transfer, she would need to make this quick. When the temperature reached eighty-seven percent of maximum, Meryll opened her inventory. It took three seconds to find the five replacement power packs. The temperature had risen to ninety-five percent. Selecting one pack, Meryll readied herself for when there was only one percent remaining before the weapon overheated.
In one fluid motion, Meryll manually discarded the battery cartridge from the bottom of the weapon and threw it into the swarming mass of Piggrins. Within her inventory, she mentally selected to "reload" the weapon. Instantly, a new cartridge appeared in the slot, and the temperature reset to zero percent. Meryll resumed shooting, aiming for the discarded power pack tumbling through the air.
The bolt of energy lanced through the power pack, igniting it in a great gout of flame that engulfed the swampy atrium. A burning tide rushed forward, setting Piggrins alight. In rapid succession, they popped like bursting balls of bubbling flame. Meryll discovered that the properties of laser and fire were fundamentally different as the lashing blaze ignited the explosive gases within the Piggrins, causing further havoc amid the devastation.
Concerned for the integrity of the data node and somewhat for her armor, Meryll quickly activated the Shell Shield skill linked to her breastplate. A bubble of defensive force projected out six feet from her. It would only last ten seconds, but that was enough. Flames lapped around the shield, scorching everything beyond the barrier to cinders. Meanwhile, Meryll and her precious cargo remained intact.
Meryll grinned as the flames died away. The data transfer had reached one hundred percent, and there were no more Piggrins to deal with.
"I stand, stalwart, against everything this world can throw at me," she affirmed, her voice growling through her helmet's speakers. "No matter what you throw at me, I will remain victorious. Do you hear me?"
In truth, she had no idea who was listening.
Nevertheless, Captain Meryll couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, something, was out there. Watching.