Chapter 379: Native Technicians |
[For someone who professes to be concerned with investigating the Delves, your current introspection seems quite self-indulgent given the questionable circumstances of the Labyrinth you are all descending into.]
“Welcome to the party, Grotto,” I thought to my familiar. The Core was still in the Closet, but could manage the psychic comms from pretty much anywhere. “We’re letting the experts deal with the snooping.”
[I presume I have been volunteered as such an expert without consultation.]
“Of course. It’s at least ten percent of your job description. Besides, you’re the best there is!”
[Obviously. What part of my excellence are you referencing?]
“Delve things. System things. Some other things, even.” I may have come off as inauthentic, but I genuinely meant what I was saying, and while the Core’s subsequent reply may have come off as sarcastic, I could tell he was happy with the praise.
[Eloquent.]
“I have a way with words, it’s true.”
[Putting aside your inept attempts at flattery, I do have some relevant information to convey. I put together a series of System Calls concerning the current zone you are traversing and received some limited responses without spending any System Rep.]
[Indeed. The System is practically begging to give us the relevant details so long as we formulate the correct inquiry. As for this first round, the Labyrinth appears to be much larger than we anticipated.]
“Were we anticipating a specific size?”
[Were you simply gallivanting into the unknown with no such estimates?]
“Yeah, I guess I was.”
[Very well. Spend a moment conceptualizing the size of the space you are beginning to explore.]
“Right.”
[Now be assured that you are underestimating it by at least an order of magnitude.]
“That seems–”
[The Labyrinth extends for more than 7,000 miles.]
“Wouldn’t that mean that–”
[It transects the entire planet.]
I came to a stop in the stairwell and looked around the group. “I, uh, think we might need to pick up the pace.”
“No kidding,” said Xim.
“How confident are you in that estimate, Grotto?”
[It is extrapolated from the data I have received. I am hesitant to rely on it without some form of confirmation.]
Xim moved her commentary to the psychic channel. “It’s long, Grotto, but how wide is it?Maybe the overall area isn’t super big.”
[That is a valid question. Spend a moment conceptualizing the size of the space you are beginning to explore.]
“For fuck’s sake,” I said aloud. “It’s Big with a capital B, we get it.”
[Organic entities are notoriously bad at comprehending such things.]
“I have an evolution called Dimensional Thinker. I’m probably better at estimating volume than you are.”
Varrin rubbed his eyes. “This is not productive.”
“You got a map or something?” I thought to the Core.
[I have a rudimentary map. This hallway will branch off several more times, but I can guide you along the quickest route to the nearest inhabitants serving as technicians.]
Now that we had some confidence in what was coming up, we ditched our casual jaunt and moved to a serious hunting pace. I saw no reason to risk rolling an ankle while sprinting down some stairs, so I split Gracorvus and hopped onto one half while sending the other over to Xim to ride. Everyone else was either airborne under their own power or invisible to my senses, and I was confident Nuralie would keep up without issue.
As the tunnel of the stairwell blurred past, the angle of its descent grew slightly sharper with each passing mile. Each step grew a little steeper until the structure was completely unusable by people possessing legs of ordinary length. Then they grew taller still, until we were plunging straight down. At that point we all agreed to let gravity do the work and simply made minor course corrections at terminal velocity to ensure we were all staying level with one another.
During the fall I noticed some mechanical elements creeping into the corridor of endless mana weaves. Cables and pipes grew from the walls and ran along it in tightly controlled spirals, occasionally intersecting and forming complex knotted structures that glowed with heat. While that all had the typical industrial nightmare vibe the System favored, there was another element that felt less intentional. I spotted occasional holes that looked too irregular to be machine made, and caught large insects crawling out of several.
I signalled for us to take a quick break while I investigated. While I doubted this underground facility could be brought down on top of us by something as mundane as an uncontrolled magical termite infestation, I wanted to check in on anything that looked like it might be causing a problem.
The bugs were more than a foot in length, and each had a dark, metallic carapace covered in hundreds of small claws. They easily dug into the surface of the wall, but any damage they caused would repair itself behind them as they went. At first I thought it was the facility doing an excellent job with some self-repair weaves, but soon realized the bug was the one doing it. It appeared to have terrakinetic abilities, manipulating the material of the wall to help it climb without disturbing its overall structure. A quick identify didn’t tell me much more.
Dark Iron Beetle: Insect, Grade 5
Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.
What I found more informative was that one beetle seemed to be making repairs to a mana weave, fixing some minor wear that was interfering with its mana flow. Interestingly, the weave powered itself down when the beetle was near, then functioned as normal once it skittered away. This, plus the fact the insects didn’t react to my presence, made me think they were engineered to operate this way. It was either an organism created by the System or one that it was using symbiotically, parasitically, or otherwise.
We noticed them in greater numbers as we continued our fall, and in some areas the walls were half hidden beneath their numbers. One section of tunnel ran through an active magma flow, and the beetles were thick there, using mana weaves to maintain a pocket of space in the middle of the liquid rock. The beetles moved over the surface of the magma to carve weaves that would slowly slide across the tunnel until they were swallowed up on the other side. Thousands of them worked tirelessly in perfect coordination with one another to constantly create new weaves that were doomed to destruction a short time after.
“The name of this mana monster appears literal,” Varrin thought to us as we fell. “Their shells are made entirely of dark iron. We’ve likely passed more of the metal than it took to make the Dark Iron Palace in Foundation. It’s an incredible fortune’s worth.”
“Maybe it’s more common than people think it is,” I replied.
“It’s fascinating how they are using the material’s properties. The constant mana supply doesn’t bleed out of their unfinished weaves as they work since the dark iron disrupts the flow. It isn’t until they’re fully finished with a section and physically move away that the mana enters and begins powering the weaves.”
I felt a little of Varrin’s grandfather, Papa Junior, channeling through the big guy as he commented on the bugs. Etja joined in, and the pair chatted for a time about the possible applications of the technique.
While the stretch through magma was bright and beautiful, it was only slightly hotter than everywhere else. The weaves were doing an excellent job of managing the temperature, but even so, the ambient heat was steadily climbing as we fell. Nobody with a Fortitude under 10 would have survived our current environment. Fortunately, even my less robust party members had learned from my example and made a healthy investment in their health.
Still, I was growing concerned over what we might be dealing with farther down, so while I wasn’t the least bit bothered, I was keeping a close eye on Etja. I would have also kept a close eye on Nuralie, but I literally couldn’t. Instead, I had to be satisfied with keeping an eye on her health bar via my interface.
“We are growing close to a group of sapient humanoids,”thought Shog from many miles ahead of us. “Fewer than 10; speaking a language I do not know. I believe they are arguing with one another.”
A few seconds later we got more details from Nuralie. “They are each marked as a Technician by the System, with levels ranging from 8 to 12. Their race is not listed. Health, mana, and stamina values are in ordinary range for their level. Resistant to Physical, completely immune to Fire, high Dimensional defense with low Spectral. Immune to Bleeding, resistant to Toxicity and forced movement effects, and resistant to most mental effects aside from Paranoia.”
I started to send back a thanks for the intel, but the loson kept going.
“They are living, they are not evil, and–” Nuralie hesitated for a beat before continuing. “–and they are considered sacred to Hyrach. I am highlighting the one that seems to have the highest social station.”
I waited another few seconds to make sure she was done, then thanked her for the information. I focused on the last bit of her report as we continued to fall.
Hyrach was a member of the Eschenden triad, a god of the land and of diligence. He was worshipped by those who valued persistence, labor, and self-growth, and was strongly associated with mountains. The two mountain ranges that formed the northern and southern borders of Eschendur were named the Left Hand and the Right Hand as a way of personifying him. Of the three Eschen gods, we’d had the least interaction with worshipers of Hyrach. I knew a lot more about Geul due to our relationship with Zenithar Zura, and was well-versed in Deijin lore since we’d spent several months inside a Deijin-themed Special Delve.
I was interested in why there would be a race of people sacred to the god so far from Eschendur, but the Eschenden had a history that predated any current Arzian civilization. It wasn’t like the Eschens had a monopoly on their worship, they were just the Eschenden’s most dedicated followers at the moment. At least, they were the most dedicated that we knew of. It was possible these mystery people were part of a culture even more hardcore than the theocratic nation of Eschendur, although I found that difficult to believe.
We fell for another minute before I could make out what I thought were distant voices echoing up the tunnel. The reason I wasn’t certain was because the ‘language’ could have been mistaken for a mix of bassy bleating and tortured metal set to a rhythmic, yet somehow irregular cadence. It was exactly what I imagined a 90’s PC securing a satanic dial-up connection would sound like. I also understood why Shog had hypothesized that they were arguing. While I had no idea what was being said in the alien language, the voices did sound pissed off.
I took the lead while Varrin stayed close behind me. Xim and Etja were a half mile back, while Shog continued to range ahead and see whether these folks had backup close at hand. Nuralie was perched up somewhere nearby alongside two of her mechas, ready to create a rain of arrows laced with Spectral poisons should things go poorly. I doubted our precautions were necessary, since these sounded like the people the System had sent us here to meet. Being sacred to one of the Eschenden made me extra comfortable with approaching them for ordinary diplomacy.
The tunnel had started getting the slightest bit of wander to its path, and the technicians were still out of view, so I called for another stop before we got too close. I wanted to figure out how to communicate with them before we revealed ourselves. As it turned out, that was as easy as asking my bonded familiar for some help.
“Grotto, any idea what I’m hearing right now?”
I felt the Core’s attention shift to me through our soul connection. [It sounds like a Delve Core trying to transmit a distress call after suffering severe damage to its processor. Coincidentally, that is much how some of Throne’s early attempts at fabricating a vocalizer for her humanoid form sounded.] I felt him mentally undulate in thought for a moment.[Aha, I see what is happening here. This is a crude vocal form of the machine language. Curious.]
I raised an eyebrow, but it quickly returned to its normal position. Speaking the machine language made sense if these were people who spent all their time doing maintenance work for the System, or whatever else it was a “native Technician” did.
“This is the second time in the same day I’m regretting not taking the time to learn that language.”
[You have little spare time, and there has been no need for you to know it. The System UI communicates in your native script, and in the rare event you encounter the language ‘in the wild’, so to speak, I can translate it for you.]
I understood what Grotto was saying, and I even agreed with it. Mostly.
“As the king of Closetland, I’m currently its lead diplomat.”
[Are you asking me to confirm whether that is true, or does this non-sequitor have an otherwise obscure purpose?]
“Communication with foreign entities is a core function of a diplomat, meaning that comprehending foreign languages is important to diplomatic duties.”
[I believe I see where you are going with this, and there is no reason for you to think it through via our psychic link.]
“This means that learning the language of a new potential ally is an essential part of acting as a competent diplomat, and understanding the diplomatic landscape is essential context for developing an effective system of rules by which Closetland is directed, controlled, and held accountable.”
[You are perfectly capable of reaching your ultimate conclusion while keeping your thoughts to yourself.]
“This means that diplomacy is essential to governance, meaning the duties of diplomats are also essential to governance. Ergo, any diplomat learning a new language is engaging in an act of governance!”
I could practically feel my Statecraft intrinsic roll its eyes as it agreed with me.
[Shall I prepare a lesson plan for one of your magister copies to begin studying?]
“Yes, that would be excellent, thank you.”
While I could have dedicated my general use instance of focus to studying languages, it was busy collaborating with Grotto on my new armor. Getting some extra flexibility with what my kingly clones could do–despite being limited to engaging in acts of governance–was more than welcome.
[You realize that unless you feel like waiting here for half a day while you memorize vocabulary, nothing has changed, yes?]
“Oh yeah, but I’m glad we got that ball rolling.” I directed Gracorvus to continue my descent, with Varrin attending me, his glamorous cape beddazzling in the dim light of the surrounding mana weaves. “Time to make some new friends.”
Once they finally came into view, I decided Shog’s use of the term ‘humanoid’ was a little loose.