Chapter 76 - The Temple of the Machine God

After several minutes of weaving through the chaotic sprawl of the asteroid belt, we finally arrived. Suspended in the endless void of space, untouched by time or light, was the Void Box. Our ship glided around it cautiously, scanners sweeping every angle, but the readings remained an abyss of nothingness. The cube loomed in absolute darkness—not just black, but the kind of void that seemed to devour light itself, like an artificial black hole frozen in place.

I had always imagined it to be small. When I first saw the pictures, I assumed it was no bigger than a refrigerator—perhaps large enough to store a body, but nothing more. But now, standing before it in the cold silence of space, the Void Box dwarfed us all. It was monolithic, stretching as wide as Orbital Tech’s colossal arena, its seamless edges sharper than anything nature could create.

Agent Feena's voice crackled through the comms, slicing through my trance. “We’re here. Helmets on. We’re approaching the Void Box personally.” She spoke with the crisp efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times, already fastening her helmet. Myrrh and I exchanged a glance before following suit, the familiar click-hiss of our suits pressurizing filling the cabin.

The ship’s hatch released with a low mechanical hum, and we stepped into the weightlessness of space. Our suits’ built-in thrusters hummed as we drifted forward, carefully maneuvering toward the enigmatic cube. As we closed the final few meters, Agent Feena turned to me, her green eyes flashing like twin emeralds against the backdrop of the void.

“The Void Box is an indestructible celestial body,” she explained. “We’ve tested over a hundred weapons on it, and not a single scratch. We even considered nuking it—just to pry it open—but let’s just say that would have blown our budget along with everything else.” She crossed her arms and fixed me with a knowing smirk. “That’s why we brought you, Zaft. You’re our best chance at cracking it open.”

I frowned, suppressing a sigh. “So… you recruited me just to blow shit up?”

"Well, if you’ve got a better idea for opening this box, be my guest," Agent Feena said, arms crossed, her tone half-challenging, half-expectant.

She wasn’t joking. That much was clear.

Beside me, Myrrh tightened her grip on her morpher, the faint glow of activation flickering at her fingertips. She was ready—ready to transform, to summon something colossal, something mechanical and powerful enough to tear open the unknown.

But I knew better. I stretched out my hand toward her and gave a small shake of my head. Not yet.

Then, I felt it—a tingling sensation running down my left arm, like a ripple of static crawling over my skin. But this wasn’t normal. It was localized—an isolated pulse of energy threading through one specific part of my body.

I looked down.

Crimson circuits. Pulsing. Flowing. Spreading under my skin like veins of molten light.

"WMD? No…" I muttered, barely able to hear my own voice. That didn’t make sense. I hadn't even activated the WEEB System—the gateway to the WMD series—and yet, something inside me had already begun. Something unique. Something different.

Compelled by an invisible force, I gently hovered forward, my breath shallow, my pulse matching the strange rhythm of the circuits now surging through my arm.

I reached out.

The moment my fingertips met the surface of the Void Box, the crimson circuits surged outward, spreading across its impenetrable shell like wildfire. The darkness that had once consumed all light was now being infected, overtaken by an overwhelming, unnatural glow. The circuits raced and expanded at an exponential rate, turning the inky black cube into a lattice of searing red patterns.

And then—

The Void Box began to disintegrate.

Not like an explosion. Not like something breaking apart. But like a computer program being wiped, its very code unraveling into nothingness.

Bit by bit, the cube dissolved into the void, revealing the impossible structure hidden within.

A floating temple.

Its architecture was ancient yet untouched by time—massive pantheon pillars lining its edges, stretching out as if holding up the very fabric of space itself. A grand central road led toward the heart of the temple, beckoning us forward.

We had uncovered something beyond reason.

A shiver ran down my spine the moment my eyes locked onto the temple.

It wasn’t just any structure—it was shaped like a colossal mechanical skull, its surface forged from dark, weathered metal, giving it the ominous presence of something ancient yet unsettlingly alive. The only entrance gaped open at the mouth, as if beckoning us to step inside and be swallowed whole. Above, the skull’s hollow eye sockets pulsed with an eerie red glow, casting an ominous light into the surrounding void.

And then—

SLAP.

A sharp sting shot through my backside. My entire body jolted.

"Good job, Zaft." Agent Feena’s voice was filled with amusement.

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"Shit!" I yelped, twisting around in shock. "What the hell was that for!?"

Before I could process what had just happened—

SLAP.

This time, I caught Myrrh smirking, one hand still raised from the impact.

"Nice ass," she teased, her blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"This is sexual harassment, you know!" I spluttered, glaring at the two of them.

Myrrh scoffed, arms crossed, utterly unfazed. "Please. It’s just a friendly slap. You should feel honored—two beautiful girls appreciating your cake. Don’t be a baby about it. You're a guy, so you shouldn't even be mad."

I clenched my fists dramatically. "I don’t get mad! I get even! Now it’s my turn!"

With vengeance in my heart, I made my move, aiming for Myrrh’s backside.

Unfortunately, she had anticipated it. With a lazy motion, she lifted her foot and gently kicked my chest. Not hard—just enough to send me drifting backward in the weightlessness of deep space, helplessly flailing as I tumbled away from her.

"Damn zero-gravity," I muttered, arms flapping as I tried to stabilize myself.

Agent Feena’s voice crackled through our comms. "Alright, kiddos. Playtime’s over. Let’s head inside."

Despite the lingering sting on my backside—and my bruised pride—I turned my gaze back to the temple.

I barely noticed that Agent Feena had already gone ahead, her figure shrinking as she drifted toward the temple. Realizing I was lagging behind, I activated my suit’s thrusters, the low hum vibrating through my body as I surged forward to catch up.

The three of us hovered in the vast emptiness of space, staring up at the colossal mechanical skull before us.

"Is this…" Agent Feena murmured, her voice laced with unease.

"The Machine God," Myrrh answered, her blue eyes narrowing as she studied the structure’s foreboding design. Then she turned her gaze to me.

I met her stare—and shrugged. I had no expectations here. Everything was a mystery, and I was just along for the ride.

Without another word, Agent Feena propelled herself toward the gaping maw of the skull. Myrrh and I followed.

The moment we crossed the threshold, we were swallowed by complete and utter darkness. Not just the absence of light—but the kind of oppressive void that made it feel like the walls themselves were watching.

A few seconds later, twin beams pierced the darkness as Feena and Myrrh activated their helmet flashlights. I quickly switched mine on as well. The beams carved through the void, revealing the interior of the temple.

And we saw… nothing.

Just an enormous spherical chamber, its curved walls forged from rusted, corroded metal, as if the place had been abandoned for centuries. There were no statues, no relics, no machinery—just a hollow shell.

Except for one thing.

At the center of the room stood a massive steel tablet, ancient yet untouched by time. Its surface was covered in strange inscriptions—not hieroglyphs or symbols, but pure binary. A code of 1s and 0s, stretching across the tablet’s entirety, pulsating faintly as if waiting to be deciphered.

01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01000110 01101001 01110010 01110011 01110100 00100000 01000001 01110000 01101111 01110011 01110100 01101100 01100101 00100000 01110011 01101000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01100011 01110101 01110100 00100000 01100100 01101111 01110111 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01000011 01101111 01110011 01101101 01101001 01100011 00100000 01010100 01110010 01100101 01100101 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01000011 01101111 01110011 01101101 01101001 01100011 00100000 01000111 01101111 01100100 01100100 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110010 01100101 01110011 01110101 01110010 01110010 01100101 01100011 01110100 01100101 01100100

"W-Wow. Splendid! Fabulous!" Agent Feena’s voice echoed through the chamber, her green eyes glittering like she had just stumbled upon the greatest archaeological find of the century. Without hesitation, she whipped out her phone, eagerly snapping pictures from every conceivable angle. The soft clicks and flashes of her camera filled the otherwise eerie silence.

Meanwhile, Myrrh planted a hand on her hip and turned to me. "What do you think this is, Zaft?"

I barely spared the steel tablet another glance before shrugging. "I don’t know. Do I look like I speak binary to you?"

"Duh. You’re the so-called ‘First Goon’ of the Machine God. You better know what this thing says, or else you’ll be a useless lackey." Myrrh smirked, swaying her hips to the side in an almost teasingly confident manner, as if reveling in her own sass.

I rolled my eyes. "First Apostle, not first goon, you stupid bitch."

She let out a dramatic sigh, tossing her hair as she struck an exaggerated pose. "Useless apostle, then. Honestly, at this rate, even a washing machine is a more useful henchman than you. I bet you don’t even know how to wash your own clothes. No wonder you always look like some street thug."

I scoffed. "You talk like you actually know how to do household chores. The only things you can cook are salads and barbecues. A rice cooker probably has more culinary skills than you."

"Alright, stop that, you lovebirds." Agent Feena’s voice cut through our bickering, her tone half-amused, half-exasperated. She stepped between us, tilting her head toward the ground. "Take a look at where you're standing."

Myrrh and I glanced down—only now noticing the intricate carvings etched into the floor beneath us. We stood within a massive circular engraving, its surface covered in an elaborate mix of binary sequences and ancient runes, all interconnected in a mesmerizing pattern.

Now that I thought about it… this looked eerily familiar.

Agent Feena touched the chin of her helmet, studying the carvings with keen interest. "It resembles the cybernetic circles the WEEB System generates when a weapon is spawned." Her voice carried a note of fascination as her fingers hovered just above the engravings. "But the binary coding is… different."

Her excitement was clear as she resumed snapping photos, meticulously documenting every inch of the temple. She moved swiftly, capturing the worn metallic walls, the massive steel tablet, and every cryptic detail hidden within the chamber.

Once we finally stepped outside, Agent Feena didn’t stop. She took more pictures—this time of the towering steel skull, its hollow eyes still burning red, as well as the pantheon-like pillars surrounding it. The deeper we delved into this mystery, the more questions surfaced.

Our exploration of the Machine God’s Temple had been, for the most part, uneventful. No sudden dangers, no hidden traps, no cryptic messages revealing our fate. And yet, an eerie tension clung to the air like static electricity, making the metallic walls feel colder than they should.

Maybe it was because we were drifting in the endless abyss of deep space, surrounded by nothing but darkness.

Or maybe it was because this temple—this place of worship for the Machine God—felt as if it had been waiting for something… or someone.

Someone like me.

The thought sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. After all, the Machine God had spoken to me once before. What if this was only the beginning?

Agent Feena finished documenting everything she could, and with no further discoveries, we made our way back to the ship. It felt almost anticlimactic, leaving without answers, but Feena reassured us. "I'll call in the deep-space archaeologists to investigate further. Let's call it a day. Good work, young lads."

For now, all we could do was return.

And let these mysteries live rent-free in our minds—gnawing at the edges of our thoughts, waiting for the moment they’d demand our attention once again.