The Enchanter (Project Stellar Book 2): LitRPG Series

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The Enchanter (Project Stellar Book 2): LitRPG Series Page 8

by Roman Prokofiev


  Allys and I stole warily under the fragile remains of roofs, threading our way around the large puddles of stinking liquid. Miko had laid our route in a fat red line leading us directly toward the underground monorail station — but in practice, we had to constantly search for alternate approaches past collapsed buildings or piles of ancient machinery long reduced to rusty chunks of scrap metal.

  “Bad place. Very bad,” Allys told me, sniffing the air. She seemed to have excellent eyesight and hearing, as well as a sense of smell, allowing her to notice lots of things that escaped my attention.

  “What exactly is it? What don’t you like?” I asked. I hadn’t noticed any threats yet, only some insects and other tiny critters.

  “The smell. The sight. Bad place.”

  “Can you sense someone?”

  “Yes. No. Not yet. Close,” she grumbled.

  Strangely enough, the access to the cargo terminal was relatively well-preserved. Like in many abandoned subterranean structures, its drainage system was blocked, turning it into an underground lake whose walls gaped with the dark mouths of flooded tunnels.

  The place was damp and gloomy. The last rays of the setting sun could still reach the terminal, but further on in the tunnels, it was pitch black. Having said that, the tunnels were quite passable, the water levels knee deep at the most.

  Allys didn’t seem to like the whole idea. She constantly wrinkled her nose, sniffed the air and hissed as she felt the water.

  I did a quick time estimation. It was late afternoon now. We might actually make it to the next station by the end of the day, provided the tunnel wasn’t blocked somewhere on our way, and spend the night at the next terminal. Which meant that I needed to grab a bite to eat, rest a little and finally check the trophies I’d got off Evyl.

  “Miko? Did you check those genomes? What are they?”

  “You bet I did. And I can tell you they’re very interesting — and highly valuable. Here, take a look.”

  Ice Anubis Genome

  Class: Purple (mixed, Azuric)

  Available genetic modifications:

  Blood of Ice. Changes your blood’s composition, turning it into transparent plasma capable of supporting all of your body functions in negative-temperature environments. Your touch can cause frostbite; your breath can freeze someone to death. You won’t feel thirst or hunger as all of your body tissues transform, acquiring lots of new properties.

  Requirements:

  Evolution (2)

  Bone Tissue Upgrade (5)

  Metabolic Upgrade (5)

  Body Tissue Upgrade (3)

  Source Upgrade (10)

  Neuromatrix

  Cryogenic Mummification. Allows you to preserve any organic body for an unlimited duration by replacing its biological liquids with a cryogenic solution of your own make.

  Warning! The use of this ability on a living creature will result in its immediate demise.

  The ability is activated by physical contact with the biological liquid in question.

  Requirements:

  Evolution (1)

  Source Upgrade (7)

  Neocortex Upgrade (5)

  Bone Tissue Upgrade (5)

  Neuronucleus.

  Ability type: Active

  Cost: 5000 Azure

  Olfactory Analyzer. Improves your sense of smell, allowing you to detect and identify the smallest traces of various substances, and even to determine someone’s emotional reaction to your words by the smell of their pheromones.

  Requirements:

  Olfactory Upgrade (3)

  Nervous System Upgrade (2)

  Neurosphere

  “This genome is absolutely unique, Incarnator! It must have been received from a creature taken over by a high Azuric entity from over the Edge. As you can see, powerful modifications require a lot of preparation — but the result is well worth it.”

  She could say that! Cryogenic Mummification was basically the ability to kill someone with one touch. And Blood of Ice must have opened up a whole new range of opportunities related to low temperature control.

  By the same token, their requirements were way out of my league: Evolution (2) and a whole lot of major upgrades. The Olfactory Analyzer seemed to be the simplest choice, giving me the chance to acquire a sharp sense of smell even before I reached my first Evolution.

  An interesting Genome indeed. I was curious what kind of reward I might receive for it from Stellar’s system.

  The second Genome turned out to be encrypted.

  ???

  Unidentified alien genetic material

  Miko made a helpless gesture. “Unfortunately, Stellar’s built-in analyzers are unable to determine its properties. This is a xeno DNA completely unknown to Stellar’s system.”

  “You mean, it’s alien? From the Black Moon?”

  “Possible. I should leave it well alone, Incarnator. It needs to be studied by a specialist in xenogenetics.”

  Yeah right, provided there were still some around...

  I opened the third genetic material I’d picked up from Evyl’s body. It had a strange name:

  Phenotype of Evelynn Mail

  This wasn’t a genome at all. A new window unfolded before me, very similar to my Transformation tab, only this one showed a 3D model of Evyl’ lank body.

  The Phenotype turned out to be a detailed map of all her Evolutions, upgrades and genetic modifications. Neither her DNA nor the Genomes she’d obtained had been fully deciphered. Her Ability Tree was covered with question marks. But still... with a blueprint like this, you could easily level up an Incarnator with an absolutely identical set of skills. Alternatively, you could study them in order to work out a countertactic. There was only one slight problem: first I had to collect an identical set of Genomes and somehow amass tons of concentrated A-energy. According to Evyl’s phenotype, she’d been through two Evolutions already, having implanted herself with fourteen genomes, not to mention regular upgrades and cybernetic modifications. She was the epitome of a monster. We’d been extremely lucky to have defeated her.

  “Luck did have something to do with it, Incarnator. But according to this DNA map, Evyl wasn’t a fighter class to begin with. She has virtually no combat modifications. She’s a Technomancer, a researcher, an expert in Azurology, a xenogeneticist and xenobiologist, and an accomplished transplantologist skilled at grafting new implants and artificial organs. I’ve just analyzed the fight we had with her. Our very first Flash had disabled some of her cyber reinforcements, like her Shield of Void, as well as her suit’s servodrives and her myoelectric prosthetic limbs. Her coordination had been compromised, which was why she missed so often. Otherwise, our chances would have been dangerously close to zero, I’m afraid.”

  “What, even with Allys’ help?”

  “One can’t factor in a virtually unknown agent. Still, this creature seems to be opening up. Try to find out more about her.”

  Allys had used the break to plait her ankle-long hair into a thick braid and wrap it around her head like a tiara. I could tell that her fingers enjoyed the familiar task. As she deftly twisted the braid into shape, the girl produced a sound reminiscent of soft purring.

  I shook my head, admiring the change in her. Allys smiled, apparently pleased with the effect. The animal mannerisms and expressions seemed to be leaving her, her face, speech and body language becoming increasingly more human.

  I reached into my cryptor for a can of pasta and opened it, closely watching her reactions.

  The girl immediately perked up and twitched her nose. “Food? Have some?”

  I flung her another can and one of my dry rations.

  She wolfed down both, licked her fingers and gave me a quizzical look. “More food? Have some more?”

  I took out some more and laid it on a rock. I still had seven cans of pasta and five Legion rations: when we’d left Fort Angelo, we’d been counting on a week’s journey. One dry ration — a pressed mix of meat, nuts and chocolate — was supposed to las
t a professional soldier twenty-four hours. But after Allys had demolished three of them in rapid succession, her gaze was just as hungry as before.

  “Not enough,” she said. “Need more. Hungry. Long time no food. Weak. More food?”

  “It’s possible that her increased metabolism burns a lot of energy, therefore requires a considerable number of calories. Based on the energy requirements of other A-morphs of the same size, I’d venture a guess that she needs at least fifty to a hundred pounds of calorie-dense food a day.”

  I shrugged. “Sorry. That’s all I have. How did you end up with the Possessed?”

  She heaved a very human sigh. “The moon.... I was hungry. Went hunting. Rats. A monster. Azuric monster. I didn't know. They wanted to kill me. They couldn’t. The Rat monster caught me. Put me in a cage. I was weak and hungry. Couldn’t escape. Rats. Rogues. The Possessed.”

  Although rambling, she’d made it quite clear. She’d been hunting Rattuses when she’d come across Rat King and lost her battle against him. Unbelievable as it sounds, the Rattuses had failed to kill her. I could only imagine what she must have suffered being ripped apart by the entire pack. It was a miracle she hadn’t lost her marbles! That’s how she’d ended in captivity and was then successfully sold to the Possessed... in exchange for what? Weapons? Explosives? Food?

  “Are you talking about the rats’ leader?” I asked. “I mean the entity that had snatched his body? I saw the rats’ caravan. I saw you in the cage.”

  She perked up. “You? Saw me? Really? You? Where?”

  “I was just passing by. We wanted to set you free but the rats were too many. What did the Possessed want you for?”

  “Renegade. Azure. Science. Genes. Harvest. Study. Then... don’t know... Darkness? The Possessed. Bad people. Broken people. Enemies!”

  “So both Stellar and the Possessed are your enemies now?” I asked.

  “Yes. That’s right. I’m a Renegade.”

  “What’s a Renegade? Are you human? Were you human?” I finally managed to find the right wording.

  “You don’t know?” she asked, surprised. “Stellar? The Voice?”

  “I know nothing! I lost my memory. I dropped from up there, “ I pointed at the sky, “two weeks ago. Can’t remember jack. This is my first body. I managed to find some people and finally began to understand... and then I got trapped by the Possessed.”

  Allys fell silent, looking puzzled, studying me warily. “But you are Stellar, aren’t you? Can’t you remember?”

  “I do use Stellar’s system, yes. I activated the Monolith’s terminal.”

  “The Monolith? Can you go in? Can you?” she asked, suddenly becoming excited.

  “Yes, I can. I’ll tell you more: I need to get there. I have missions to close, a new rank to receive and I must warn the City about the Possessed.”

  “The Monolith,” Vixen said pensively. “Your memory. You erased it. Very well. I’ll help. I’ll help you. You’ll help me.”

  “Who are you?”

  She fell silent, looking at me intently as if torn by some inner struggle. The green lanterns of her eyes would light up, then grow dull, then light up again; her fingers sank into her knees.

  Finally she spoke slowly, spitting out words. “I was like... like you. At first. Long ago. I don’t remember much. The Impact. I died. I resurrected. I became Inca. With Stellar. Like you.”

  My body was shaking involuntarily. Allys was human, after all. Or rather, she was an Incarnator like myself. I’d suspected something of the kind when I’d seen her abilities, her agility and strength, and the apparent traces of genetic modifications. If so, she must be ancient! If indeed she’d first reincarnated immediately after the Impact, then she must be a real treasure trove of information.

  “Are you an Incarnator?” I asked.

  “Yes. An Inca. Used to be,” she forced a weak smile. “My Voice... his name was Richie.... I died. I resurrected. Many times. Loads. I can’t remember. Monsters. Bad people. New bodies. Lots of bodies. I didn't want to fight. I hid from them. I was scared. I found home. The Undying. My pack. My clan. My people.”

  “I think I know the name, Incarnator. Stellar’s Archives do mention the Undying, or “the Undying Pack”. It’s one of the communities formed by renegade Incarnators after the Impact.”

  “Renegades? Is it the same as the Possessed?”

  “I don’t think so. The last of them were eliminated long before the Siege and the War on the Possessed.”

  “Eliminated, by whom?”

  “By the Legion. The rest of the information is classified.”

  “People. House. Husband. Children,” the girl went on in a peaceful, perfectly human voice, as if reliving her happiest memories. “Long time ago. Long long time. Can’t remember their faces. Our Pack. We were as one. All together. My family. My clan. Then... we died. Incas came. The Legion. Great battle. ‘Kiss of the Sun’. Fire. Death,” she growled softly, her face screwed into a grimace.

  I was beginning to understand. This was the tragic story of a woman who didn't want to fight and who lost everything she’d held dear to the Incarnators’ turf wars. She’d survived — but she’d lost her home and family — and it looked like her entire clan had been massacred by the Legion.

  She went on, sharply and ruthlessly, “Death. Everybody died. Legion. Prison. Stellar. Put me in the Cube. The Omega seal. Long time. Very long time. Then... the Possessed. They opened the Cube. Broke the seal. I escaped. The City, the battle. I killed. Lots.”

  “I know! The ‘Cube’ she refers to is most likely Incarcerum — a classified prison built specially to hold Incarnators in captivity. Its location is unknown. It’s considered absolutely impossible to break out of. Grey, I would advise against any further dealings with this creature. Only the most dangerous criminals are sent to Incarcerum.”

  “Did you fight on the side of the Possessed?” I asked.

  “Yes. No. Battle! Revenge. My clan. My memories. Revenge!”

  She fell silent. Her glowing eyes glistened wetly. Her chest kept rising and dropping. “Revenge. Madness. Lost Stellar. Lost Richie. Lost everything.”

  “Richie?”

  “The Voice. Stellar,” she touched her forehead. “You know Voices? Cleo, Soll, Sirena, Miko... Mine was called Richie.”

  She was talking about her cogitor! She must have lost it! Which meant that the numerous reprimands she must have received had resulted in her neural network being blocked. She must have been stripped of her rank, too. Hadn’t Miko told me it was possible? Allys’ Reputation must have gone into the red due to her actions which Stellar qualified as “crimes”. She’d lost her cogitor and her interface, denying her access to reincarnation and genetic modifications control.

  Under these circumstances, her very first death would have disembodied a renegade Incarnator for good. How had she managed to survive, then?

  “Renegade. I escaped. Very far. I lived there. For a long time. The Zealots. They caught me. They studied me. A long, long time. Monsters! Azure. Genes. This,” she reached out her hand palm up.

  Before my very eyes, her slim girly hand transformed into an Allys’ furry paw crowned with hooked black claws as long as my finger. It only lasted an instant, then her hand was human again.

  She lowered her hand and went on, “Long time. The Moon. I killed. I escaped. I was a beast. I changed. No memory,” she growled softly. “I lived. I hunted. I didn't speak. I couldn’t remember. A beast inside me. Understand?”

  I nodded. Tara had told me a little about these things. The Zealots was a collective name for a plethora of little cults and factions uniting Azure worshippers of every color. Unlike “clean” people, Zealots often settled in A-zones and actively tried to use Azure believing it to be a gift from above. The people of Fort Angelo believed them to be dangerous fanatics — or “Shivas”, as they called them — and avoided any dealings with them. Allys must have been captured by one such group, becoming the object of studies and genetic experiments, which
had ultimately turned her into a weremorph.

  “And this. Look!”

  The jumpsuit’s zipper whooshed. Turning her back to me, the girl lowered the top part of her clothes, baring some of her back. She then lifted the heavy braid of her hair higher.

  Right under her shoulder blade — in the exact same place where I had my Fenrir clan tattoo — she had a small orange sign. It looked like the symbol of the beaming sun with its arms broken at a right angle.

  The lettering inside the disk said, А. L. I. С. E.

  Alice. Allys.

  Immediately the girl’s outline was highlighted crimson. My interface wailed like a banshee, showering me with data.

 

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