Zac reined in his fantasy of triggering a wave of stellar destruction that swallowed half the Zurbor Sector. As Ogras said, they’d be the first ones to die, considering they had no escape measures prepared for such a plan. Hiding out in the Lower Planes could work, except Galau had already confirmed the deathly module was completely exhausted and would need weeks to recharge.
The Life-attuned module was in better shape, but would they even dare use it? With the Deathly Module drained, it wouldn’t have the strength to bring them back to the surface. And that didn’t even cover whatever dangers they might face in a Life-attuned plane.
Even if they solved all those issues, it still wouldn’t be enough. Zac estimated the death engine could have lasted another hour inside the Threaded Hell if they hadn’t been forced to leave early. That was only enough to cover a couple of weeks worth of travel, not enough to escape the blast zone. They’d probably pop out in the middle of the explosion, and there wouldn’t be a rune to protect them that time.
The only alternative was if he managed to instantly activate the trial along with the explosion. However, that meant sacrificing the non-sealbearers aboard the ship. Unleashing the Foreign Gods was the far preferable option, especially if you included the uncertainty of the supernova working and that he had allies inside the Imperial Graveyard.
“That thing in the middle, is it what we came for?” Ogras asked.
“The signal points towards it,” Zac nodded. “It should be a gateway to the true realm where the project took place.”
Excited discussions spread through the bridge until one dissenting voice cut through the chatter. “This might not be what you wish to hear, but maybe we should wait?”
Zac turned toward Carl standing in the corner, who slightly withered under the attention. He still pressed on. “The Yphelion is damaged, and the crew is still exhausted after our mad escape from the cultists. A few days of recovery would put us in a much better position to finish the job.”
A few seemed to agree, such as Galau, Ra’Klid, and Rhuger. The majority leaned toward pressing on, their eyes radiating purpose and adventure. Zac glanced at the surroundings. The tesseract sun was surrounded by an incredibly stable space the size of a solar system. There were no planets or structures, and there wasn’t a single passage leading into the sanctuary from the storm. It was the perfect place to recover after their journey.
“We’ve patched up the circuits with spare materials, so the shields technically work.”
“Technically?” Zac said.
“I wouldn’t recommend raising their strength beyond 10 percent,” Galau said. “Furthermore, there are still dozens of unpressurized compartments. With the shields as they are, we should probably avoid those sections as we approach the sun. The heat and radiation would be deadly even if the rune lets through so much as a sliver. Oh, and we haven’t even begun working on the hull.”
“Well, that’s great,” Zac muttered before turning back toward Carl. “You’re right. It would have been a good idea to rest up. Unfortunately…”
Zac glanced at Mark, who confirmed Zac’s suspicion. “The rune is dragging us forward. I can’t stop it.”
The rune hadn’t disappeared after paving a path through the storm. It had only slowed down on its approach toward the sun.
“We’ll reach the sun in twenty-eight minutes,” the pilot continued.
“… I’ll see if I can reinforce the shields,” Galau sighed before hurrying out, and most of the sealbearers followed in tow after seeing they still had some time.
Zac stayed on with Ogras, Catheya, and Kator, reviewing the many plans they’d ironed out during their brief bouts of downtime one final time. The twenty-eight minutes passed in no time, and Zac silently watched on as the Yphelion entered the sun’s domain. Nothing happened, allowing Zac to release his pent-up breath.
The sun’s hollow interiors were like the Spatial Nexus he’d seen back in the Void Star, the contraption the Kan’Tanu blew up as part of their plan. Space inside had more than three dimensions, and Zac had no idea how the Yphelion would react. Thankfully, the sigil’s protective tail worked equally well for the star. Neither heat nor energy reached the ship, and they were spared from being twisted into pretzels by space twisting on itself.
“That’s odd,” Jaol said. “I can’t actually pick up any spatial fluctuations. Not even from the gate.”
“How’s that possible inside a multidimensional space?” Zac asked.
“Why would the Dao of Space be required?” Kator countered. “Your vessel used no Spatial Energy to enter and leave the Lower Planes. This is no different. The sun should have been repurposed as an energy source, so the formations should be reliant on the Stellar Peak.”
“I guess you’re right,” Zac shrugged as he took out a communicator, feeling it was the least of the mysteries present. “Brace yourselves. We’re about to fly through the gate.”
The screens had become completely black as the huge sphere drew closer. Zac felt as though they were flying into a black hole and prayed he was wrong. The others returned, opting to stay in the reinforced bridge as a precaution.
Zac didn’t even notice when they flew through the gate. The darkness gave way to light, and the screens displayed a twilight realm with drifting clouds of purple. Gleaming stars were visible far in the sky but not below, indicating they might have been transported to a proper world despite there being no sign of any ground. There were no signs of danger or their destination. The seal was still there, guiding them through the clouds. The tranquil view was beautiful, which only added to Zac’s unease.
“What’s going on? Weren’t we inside a star?” Emily muttered.
“It’s—” Zac said before his words caught in his throat.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Streaks of purple had appeared inside the bridge, ignoring the protective sigil and the Yphelion’s shielding alike.
“What in the nine hells is this?” Bubbur exclaimed, his face scrunching up like a raisin. “It feels like someone is taking a dump in my brain. Wait, is it making me smarter?”
“Oh, I know exactly what this is,” Ogras spat, glancing at the former Muscle Brigadier. “And I would be careful about any ideas popping into my head right about now.”
“Ogras is right. Everyone, seal your Daos and paths. Ignore the whispers; they’re lying. Any truths you think you’ve grasped will only bring about your doom,” Zac said. “You don’t want to know what’ll happen if this madness is allowed to take root. I’ve seen it turn an elite Kan’Tanu squad into vegetables.”
“Is this what you encountered inside the Void Star?” Kator asked.
“The flavor is slightly different, but it’s the Dead Dao of the Lost Era,” Zac confirmed. “This could be considered a good opportunity for you all. Take your time in figuring out long-term countermeasures. We’re bound to encounter more of this during the trial. Practicing with this diluted version might save your lives when facing the real thing.”
“The real thing’s worse than this? Did I make the right decision coming all this way?” Kruta grimaced.
Zac laughed before sharing the insights he’d gathered from his years of relying on the tainted lake water. Of course, there was one thing he kept to himself. The corruption wasn’t the only thing present in the energy from the so-called Lost Plane. The truths of Ultom were nestled inside, though the concentrations were closer to his [Court Cycle Token] than the lake water.
He didn’t mention that part out of fear one of his subordinates would overestimate themselves and attempt extracting the good stuff, something which was only made possible thanks to his bloodlines. Zac wasn’t under the same restrictions, and his D-grade Hidden Nodes made the process far more effective.
If the situation were different, he would have cranked his Void Emperor bloodline to the limits, forming Void Vortices to gobble up all the free insights. Now, he was reduced to siphoning off what little he could from his surroundings, which was only enough to help clear his head.
Finally, they saw their destination in the distance. A glistening tower had pierced the clouds, reaching into the starry sky far above. Zac looked on with interest, though his expression grew odd as the minutes passed. It had barely changed even after ten minutes of travel.
“Are… we moving?” Ogras eventually asked.
“Just how big is this thing?” Catheya whispered.
An hour later, the distant tower had grown by half on the screen, and three smaller towers had become visible.
“It has to be larger than a planet,” Emily said.
“It should be approaching the D-grade bounds of a three-dimensional world,” Jaol nodded. “Much more, and space will buckle.”
“The Limitless Empire sure wasn’t messing around,” Ogras whistled. “Imagine the cost. Why not just reposition a world instead?”
“I don’t think they had a choice,” Zac said, remembering how the [Foreign Gods] tome mentioned how the lighthouses couldn’t stay in this realm for too long. “They needed to build something that could resist the corrosion of Dead Dao.”
“Resist… or contain?” Emily said. “Have you noticed? The clouds are getting denser the closer we get.”
It took another hour before the whole base had come into view, or as much as was possible with the incredibly dense clouds surrounding the structure. Emily’s theory was looking more likely by the minute. Rather than a base resisting the Dao of the Lost Era, it seemed like the base was built around a breach like the one he’d closed.
The central tower was almost too large to compute, yet it was floating in the air without causing so much as a ripple. Surrounding it were seven subsidiary towers. A structural band connected the outer pillars, and it was large enough to overshadow the ringworld he’d visited during his pilgrimage back in the training camp.
“Uh, boss? Doesn’t that look like—”
“It does,” Zac agreed, glancing at Ra’Klid.
The central tower was unattached, just like the central tower in the Centurion Lighthouse. In contrast to its much smaller cousin, the main station showed no signs of battle. The base seemed to be slumbering, emitting barely any energy, but it remained in pristine condition. It almost felt like ancient cultivators could pop out of a window at any moment to see who’d come knocking at their door.
“If we can launch a [Centurion Spear] this size,” Bubbur wheezed, his face red with excitement. “Will there be anything of the Kan’Tanu afterward?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. There are some critical differences in the design. I don’t think it’s equipped with a that kind of propulsion,” Galau said. “That’s not to say it won’t have a similar feature.”
“Isn’t that what the Foreign Gods are for?” Ogras said.
Zac listened in on the discussion, his eyes never leaving the monitor. “The tips of the outer towers are roughly the size of the Centurion Lighthouse.”
“There were seven Lighthouses,” Emily agreed. “So its ultimate form is with all the outer bases docked at the tips?”
“Looks like we’re being directly taken to one of the outer towers,” Ogras commented. “Could it be the one connected to the lighthouse you raided?”
“It should be,” Galau said.
New details were exposed every minute as the clouds shifted. The first damaged section came into view shortly before an outer tower got in the way. It was on the opposite side of the base, where a whole section of the outer band had been ripped open. There were no rampaging energies or resentment in the breach, nor did it appear to be the source of the billowing purple clouds.
“That’s one big hole,” Ogras frowned. “Big enough for a trapped God to slip out?”
“I would expect so,” Zac said. “It’s bigger than Earth.”
“We knew some of them must have escaped after what happened to the Centurion Lighthouse,” Emily said. “Maybe that wing held the ones that hadn’t been turned into puppets yet.”
“I’m surprised they just left after breaking out,” Ogras commented. “If it were me, and I had the power to cause that kind of damage, I wouldn’t have left before the base was turned to rubble. And these Foreign Gods were supposed to be vengeful and bloodthirsty.”
“Maybe they were afraid their captors would return,” Joanna suggested. “And this place should have sunk to the depths of the Void shortly after the escape, making it impossible to find their way back.”
“They should be dust by now,” Ogras said. “At least, I hope so.”
Zac wasn’t so sure. The whole reason the Starfall Court started the Centurion Project was that the Foreign Gods were essentially undying, partially a gift of the Stellar Wanderers they’d sprung from. If they were dead, it would be from targeting the wrong person or entering a taboo zone. The good news was that the Multiverse had seen so many changes over the eons that it should be impossible to find their way back.
“A hatch is opening!” Emily said.
“Incredible,” Zac muttered upon seeing the gate was over a mile thick.
The Yphelion looked like a fly as it entered the enormous hangar. Zac couldn’t help but sigh in regret upon seeing it was empty, and his disappointment was mirrored on more than one face. Any Cosmic Vessel moored in this base would have a huge chance of being a C-grade vessel, possibly something even greater. It could have become the flagship of the Atwood Empire, acting as a deterrent even against Monarchs.
“This might be a guest entrance,” Ogras said, unwilling to give up. “Even if not, there has to be more docking stations in a building this size. I refuse to believe not one was left behind.”
A deep hum precluded any answer. Their guiding rune had disappeared after finishing its task. One by one, powerful illumination arrays activated in the ceiling, and runes as large as cities appeared on the walls. A dizzying array of floating lights appeared in the air, seemingly there to direct traffic that didn’t exist.
It wasn’t just the hangar, either. Zac could feel tremendous amounts of energy stir as the whole base was coming online. Zac had never felt anything like it, not from the War Fortresses nor the continental disks in Twilight Harbor. It felt like a primordial beast was coming out of its slumber, and there was no telling what the effect would be on them or the world outside.
“I’ve regained control,” Mark said. “What should I do?”
“Follow the guiding lights,” Zac said, cracking his neck. “We’re setting out the moment we’ve docked.”