Chapter 171: The Rule of the System

Standing upright with his hands folded behind his back, his eyes closed, and his breathing calm, Adamus set his gaze upon the world. Alone in his office, he concentrated on the people of Galterra, but more specifically, on the continent of North Bastia, where great progress had been made in pursuit of ridding the world of the accursed nuclear weapons that served as the last of Moldark’s legacy. Thanks to the two vampires from Archian Prime, the threat to the system looked near to ending. Yes…yes, the threat had mostly passed. All that remained was a bit of diligence to ensure no remnants yet lingered, and it appeared the Elvish were leaving no stone unturned to that effect. Adamus was pleased. The moment of crisis was just about beyond them.

…but still, it had been a great deal closer than he’d anticipated.

Although Adamus could see far and wide, even his extraordinary gaze could not see all. Thus, no matter how prescient and observing, there were always things that slipped his attention—that sailed beyond his notice. For this reason, he had been caught unaware by the runic-disabling shields that the deceased Peter V had erected shortly before his passing, and for a short while earlier, he’d feared that the Galterrans would fail in the critically important task he’d bestowed upon them. This, of course, would have been a terribly unpleasant outcome, for it would have required Adamus to “escalate” the situation.

Wanting to interfere with the system’s users as little as possible, Adamus naturally preferred the sort of solutions that saw the Galterrans themselves serving as the agents of change. In so doing, he could simultaneously achieve his objective while ensuring such objective was achieved in the fairest way possible. Yet in the event the Galterrans failed, he had indeed been prepared to act: first with his trackers and then, should they not succeed, personally if such a dramatic, remarkable intervention was absolutely required. Thankfully, that had not come to pass, and as things were, it did not seem as though any further involvement would be required on his part.

Thus, he turned his attention elsewhere.

Since the dawn of this crisis, Adamus had neglected other matters of great importance, of which there were many, but one in particular stood out most to him—the boy from the old times whom Eilea had used to breach the system: James Green, as he was known. His very existence here was an affront to all that Adamus had created, and Adamus was beside himself at the audacity Eilea had displayed in bringing him to Galterra. Meddling unforgivably with the strands of time, fate, and reality, his beloved had foolishly brought him here in direct opposition to not only the principles of the system but to the rules established by the old Gods. The woman risked so much to pluck the boy from his time and transport him to their world. But it was in this act itself where the conundrum had now begun to grow, for a puzzle was beginning to form: one that was becoming more alarming and confusing the more Adamus delved into it.

Initially, Adamus had believed his beloved’s intentions to be clear, obvious, and straightforward. Given that James Green was an unmodified, system-compatible, true-human specimen, he naturally had direct access to his internal psionic abilities in the same way that Adamus himself or Eilea did, providing this young man an incredibly unfair advantage that simply could not be allowed to stand. For he, unlike all other participants in the system, was capable of drawing directly upon his power and harnessing the four basic affinities.

From the moment Adamus had detected the boy’s appearance and learned who—and what—had invaded the system, he had naturally and logically assumed that it was for this very reason that Eilea had risked the wrath of the old Gods in bringing him here. Adamus had been certain that her goal had been to have him call upon these abilities in order to either advance her own agenda or perhaps aid Zachys Calador in whatever foul schemes she had planned for the boy.

And yet, incredibly, from the small bit of observation Adamus had been able to manage amid the larger threat of nuclear weaponry, he had thus far not been able to obtain any evidence whatsoever to suggest that Jimmy was utilizing these advantages, nor had he been able to conclude from his admittedly brief monitoring that the young man was even aware of his talents. Even more baffling was that Eilea didn’t appear to be informing him or guiding him towards them, either.

And this was where Adamus was now finding himself at a total loss to explain his beloved’s motivation.

Eilea was many things, but his beloved was most certainly not crafty, overly clever, or deceitful. Subterfuge, layered plans, and veiled desires were not things Adamus expected of her. Even now, he still believed this to be the case. But if so, it only further clouded the nature of the boy’s presence here, for if Eilea had not brought him here to make use of his innate access to psionic abilities, then for what purpose had she brought him to Galterra? For what possible reason could she have to take such an obscene, grotesque, and dangerous action if not to make use of his unique disposition?

Why? Why had Eilea done it? Why had Eilea put so much on the line to save the life of a random Psych who was meant to die thousands of years ago yet was now walking among them? Was she merely waiting for a future date to guide him in the ways of his innate abilities? Or was there some other purpose entirely that Adamus had not yet been able to see due to his very, very limited observations of the young man?

Though Adamus had certainly not spent enough time studying the situation to definitively conclude that another purpose existed, the little he’d seen so far strongly suggested that James Green was doing nothing untoward and was, quite to the contrary, an enthusiastic, ideal specimen of the sort his system was originally designed to cater to. Adamus had only checked in on him a few times, and each time he’d done so, the boy had been happily traipsing through a dungeon, relishing in the world the Great Ones had created. He had adapted far better to the system than Adamus would’ve expected, and by all accounts, he was, at least to this point, behaving as a gifted, but ordinary adventurer.

But there had to be more. There had to be a reason.

Sadly, Adamus would likely never learn of it, for the boy—along with nearly all the most powerful or important adventurers in Galterra—were about to die; this, he realized as he switched his gaze to the west, to Faded Island off the coast in North Bastia. Flashing, unstable images flooded his mind as he concentrated, bringing these moving pictures into focus until they settled to become an accurate representation of the world far below. Having been focused so intensely on Shadowfall Coast these past few weeks, Adamus had all but forgotten that the T9 boss called "Mare of the Primordial Void" was due to spawn.

“Come in,” Adamus said with a smile forming on his face. Even as he kept his eyes closed, he could sense the presence on the other side of the door. A moment later, he felt two warm hands settle down on his shoulders, massaging him.

“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” Prila said. Her voice dropped in volume. “I…missed you.”

“You can always be with me,” he said to her. “Your presence comforts me like no others.”

She spoke nothing in reply. Adamus could sense she was troubled. “Are you concerned about the mare?”

“I am,” she said.

Adamus placed his right hand on top of her left, which was still on his shoulder. “Prila, you agreed to recommit to my vision as a condition for rejoining us here…and for being together with me.”

Her grip became firmer. “I know, and I haven’t gone back on that, Adamus. I’m just saddened. I’ve grown to care so much for Zach.”

“So you have…but you must let him go. We must not interfere.”

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She sighed. “Are you sure they have no chance?”

“Yes,” Adamus whispered. “This is unlike the dragon. I told you why when last we spoke.”

“You did…”

She quieted, seemingly content just to be with him and requiring little else, though her sadness stung at Adamus. Truly, he did feel for Prila, but the system demanded impartiality, and he could not allow her—or anyone—to interfere. In the coming moments, he fully expected a massive, devastating raid wipe to take place, one in which there would be few—if any—survivors, for the boss they were about to attack was unlike any others that spawned on Galterra.

Like all T1 planets and moons, Galterran bosses were typically straightforward and only seldomly contained much in the way of complexity. There were some exceptions, of course, but even in those cases, such bosses contained one or, at most, two features that separated them from other such bosses. But Mare of the Primordial Void was different—and in a way that would simply prove itself to be insurmountable for the adventurers.

“Delreza,” Adamus whispered, speaking the name of the beautiful, orange-haired Elvish Great One who had created the boss in question.

“Hmm?” Prila asked.

“It’s nothing,” Adamus whispered. “Just my thoughts.”

Delreza had created Mare of the Primordial Void, and it had been highly controversial among the Great Ones at the time. In clear violation of accepted protocol, she had given into her creative streak, and she had crafted a boss with a level of complexity far more befitting a T2 planet than a place like Galterra. Its stats were in line with other, similar bosses of its type, but its abilities and features went well beyond what was considered standard and acceptable for a Galterran boss. Thus, all but Adamus had immediately rejected her idea, claiming it violated the spirit of tiered planets and that superbosses were far too dangerous as is.

Typically, a superboss—defined internally as any boss T8 or greater that spawned out in the world as opposed to one of the dungeons—was a boss designed to force a confrontation between itself and the citizens of Galterra. For this reason, superbosses had very long spawn timers, roamed from area to area based on population density, and left the people of Galterra with no choice but to band together in order to end the grave threat it posed to life.

But Mare of the Primordial Void had been different. And for this reason, a compromise had been made. In exchange for allowing this boss to spawn on Galterra, it would be given a flat, 4,000-year spawn timer and, in addition, it not only would not roam or be a determined roamer, but it would have a vastly reduced aggro radius and an even smaller de-aggro radius, essentially isolating it to one spot. In other words, it would not pose a society-ending threat to the people of Galterra, nor would they be absolutely required to destroy it in the event they were unable to do so.

Only having ever spawned once before in the history of the system, the Mare of the Primordial Void had a number of abilities that no one on Galterra had ever before seen, and thus, they would have no understanding of how to confront it. Adamus, whose ability to predict and assign an accurate probability to most events had always served him well, gave the adventurers less than a one-percent chance to defeat it, and perhaps ten percent for at least a quarter of them to survive via fleeing. The odds of half or more escaping with their lives…hmm…perhaps five percent thereabout.

“I don’t want Zach to die,” Prila whispered sadly.

“I know you don’t, and…I am sorry.”

There were numerous ways the raid could wipe depending on chance and what abilities happened to come up first; this would also greatly influence the number of potential escapees. For example, if the small, reddish-green ring appeared near the boss, that would almost certainly spell the imminent death of every single last raid member bar none. They would not know how to react. Adamus was sure of it.

And because of this, he would likely never come to learn what it was that Eilea had actually intended James Green to do. For with an almost guaranteed level of certainty, he would be dying in the coming moments. But, if nothing else, it absolved Adamus of having to see to his death via the use of more trackers. With their truce nearly over, the time was soon to come where he’d have to dispatch more of his people to put the boy down for the sake of the system. At least, this way, he could die as the system intended: fairly. This was so much more preferable to the alternative.

Yet, there was something strange going on now that Adamus more fully focused on the adventurers that had gathered down there in Faded Island. With a greater level of concentration, he began to absorb more information, with some now hitting him in the form of sound. From the looks of things, it seemed that the young man was going to lead the raid.

Was Adamus interpreting this correctly? Was he misunderstanding something?

This was…odd. James Green was a newer adventurer. Though his ability set appeared to allow him to propel himself forward in the levels far, far faster than most adventurers could, he was still a fresh adventurer whose level was in the mid-40s and who presumably did not know enough about the world of Galterra to be worthy of leading even a small raid, let alone one that sought to take on a superboss.

“Why would they allow him to lead?” Adamus whispered to himself.

“What’s that?” Prila asked, overhearing him.

He explained the situation to her and then said, “With an inexperienced, unknowledgeable young man taking the reins, I am afraid the chance of survival has now plummeted even closer to zero.”

“But…but why would they even allow this?”

“I cannot say. It is unusual.”

“Do you think it factors into Eilea’s plan?” she asked.

Adamus shook his head—and then he even laughed. “No, of course not. Unless you’re suggesting my beloved’s plan was to bring the boy thousands of years forward in time just to have him lead raids as a completely inexperienced newcomer to what must be a frightening, unfamiliar world.”

Prila also released a chuckle, though in her case, it came across as far more saddened than amused. “I guess you’re right. But…Adamus?”

“Yes?”

“Do you really still have to call Eilea your beloved? It makes me feel so unwanted.”

He opened his eyes, turned around, and looked at her. The girl’s face was truly a thing of beauty. He could not remember the last time he had felt any passion in his heart—even if he lacked it in other areas, as his body had wilted away with age.

“You are my most favored now,” he said to her. “Your jealousy is unnecessary.”

Prila frowned. “Then prove it.”

“Prove it?”

She nodded. “You know what I want.”

Adamus briefly averted his gaze. He did know. It was something he had declined several times by this point. “That is not to my liking.”

“Why?” she asked. “Is it…is it because of me?”

“No, not at all,” he said, speaking in a calm whisper. “It is simply that I decided long ago not to run from age as others do.”

“But…could you really do it? Reset yourself?”

In some ways, Adamus regretted telling her about any of this. Although he’d only rescued her from the research facility last night, the two had been in constant communication all throughout her stay there. She’d fall asleep every night during their discussions, and it was during one of these talks he’d told her that the reason why he is old and frail and Eilea is young and beautiful was simply that she had rejected aging and had chosen to keep her body at the ripe young age of eighteen.

Adamus, on the other hand, wore his age like a badge of wisdom. His skin was thousands of years old, and he maintained it only to the extent that it was necessary to ensure function. But he could, indeed, reverse himself if he chose, and upon arriving back home last night, Prila had found a picture of him from his youth. It had…stirred the passions within her. Passions he could no longer feel due to his age.

“Please,” she said to him. “Let me be with you in the way that you were with Eilea for so long.”

Adamus considered her request. “If I reset myself, this will be the final time. I do not enjoy concealing the truth of myself behind a false youth. Also, you must understand, that with a young, virile body comes a certain brashness that I must temper, for the frailty of age calms me and keeps me rational.”

Prila chuckled, and this time, it seemed genuine. “Are you saying you’ll go crazy if you revert to your younger self?”

Adamus smiled. “Not quite, Prila. My mind is unchanging. It is more that the feeling of being inside a youthful body propels oneself in a way that my current form does not. I might find myself jogging around the halls, for example. And I would certainly feel a return to that which you seek from me…”

He watched as Prila chewed her bottom lip, a gesture that meant nothing to him now but would certainly incite his passions if he indeed rejuvenated himself. “Do it,” she said. “I want to see that half-elf from the picture.”

“You may find him more than you can handle…my Prila.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Very well. I wish to continue my observations a bit longer, but tonight, at midnight North Bastian time, I shall begin the meditations. You will be unable to reach me for twenty-four hours. Yet when I awaken, I will be as I was.”

Prila seemed excited. She kissed the side of his cheek and then returned to her station. Her coworkers were all overjoyed to have her back, and Adamus was glad they were willing to accept her as one of them again.

Now, closing his eyes once more, he honed his senses in on Faded Island, where he knew that the adventuring community was about to suffer a tremendous blow from which it might never recover, especially if the two de facto leaders, Donovan Iseldar and Zephyr Vextran, perished in the coming battle—which they likely would. None of them would be able to rise to the challenge they would soon be up against. They simply would not know what to do or understand what was happening, and having an inexperienced young man in charge—for some inconceivable reason—would only make things worse for them.

Death was now their fate, and though such a thing was sad and regrettable, Adamus would not permit anyone to interfere. Such was the rule of the system.