As soon as she boarded the mothership, the maid-outfitted girl Grey Wind collapsed into countless nanobots to return to her main body, leaving Russell to walk alone through the corridors, deep into the vessel’s interior.
Normally, Grey Wind would probably laugh and say, “You’re in too deep, Grand Marshal!” but she wasn’t in the mood right now.
After hearing Russell explain the events of the Cybernetic Revolt, Grey Wind understood that even a micro-machine gestalt consciousness like herself could be corrupted, infected, and consumed by Chaos.
Perhaps it was only psychological, but as Russell drew closer to the chamber containing the Zro Crystal, his mental state began to undergo a quiet shift.
It was hard to say whether this change was positive or negative; Russell only felt a restless irritation.
With every forward step, his haggard complexion and the dark circles under his eyes—souvenirs of consecutive sleepless nights—gradually faded away.
By the time Russell finally stood before the door to the chamber housing the Zro Crystal, he was brimming with boundless energy.
His dry, rough skin had become ruddy and smooth, as though he had just woken from a deep, restful sleep.
Both body and mind were in peak condition.
To be frank, he had never felt this good in all his twenty-four years.
This change only filled Russell with growing unease.
With a soft, slithering metallic hiss, the door slid open.
Unlike the massive void holding the Prethoryn Queen or the grand hall housing the Cybrex Warforge, the room before him was much smaller—only slightly smaller than Russell’s bedroom in the Governor’s Mansion—and utterly bare.
At the center of the room stood a ring-like structure resembling an altar.
Floating silently at its center was a beautiful, violet-blue crystal.
The Zro Crystal.
True to its name, it was a stone that harbored the souls of the Zroni.
This Relic was small enough to be easily held in a single hand.
Hazy smoke swirled within the translucent crystal, eerie and enchanting, as if staring too long would allow the entity within to steal one’s soul away.
As Russell stepped into the room, a weary voice that seemed to span infinite ages echoed in his ears:
“For humans, sleep debt violates your physiological laws and impairs your bodily functions. I do not recommend it.”
In the center of the room, the mist within the crystal continued to swirl, and the voice carried on:
“But if one possesses psionic power, that is another matter entirely.”
*What a mystic load of crap…* Russell took a deep breath and looked down at his hands.
Well, they hadn’t turned into tentacles.
He lifted his shirt to check his abdomen; there was no gaping mouth full of razor-sharp fangs.
*Can’t let my guard down.
I’m a player from the Fourth Crisis,* Russell reminded himself as he continued forward.
“There is doubt in your heart, and fear… and another emotion that I cannot decipher,” the voice from the crystal murmured softly.
“It has been a long time since I last encountered an existence like yours.”
Russell fought down his stray thoughts to avoid giving away any obvious reaction.
“Jabaxsti, hope of the Evangelists, the last of the Zroni. I need you to answer a few questions.”
“Oh?”
The smoke swirling within the crystal paused for a brief instant before quickly resuming its flow.
The voice remained weary and ancient.
“I would be glad to.”
Jabaxsti’s momentary reaction did not escape Russell’s eyes.
Russell placed a hand over his chest, slowing his breathing, and continued:
“The humans of this universe lack all forms of faster-than-light technology.
FTL communication and interstellar travel both rely on the Warp—the Shroud.
However, the Warp is far from peaceful.
“The Warp, dominated by Chaos, has become a shackle around the neck of the Imperium of Man.
Their communications are perpetually disrupted, and interstellar travel is fraught with peril—like crossing an ocean in a bathtub, a constant dance on the edge of life and death.
“And the Ruinous Powers’ corruption of the real universe prevents humanity from inventing anything new, forcing them to rely on excavation, developing in reverse. Unable to research reliable, physical FTL methods, they are entirely at the mercy of the gods.”
The smoke within the crystal flowed slowly.
Like a kindly elder, Jabaxsti listened quietly and gently to Russell’s words, never interrupting.
“I am going to shatter this shackle.”
Russell slowly clenched the hand over his chest into a fist, his gaze resolute:
“Grey Wind’s database contains at least four methods of FTL travel that do not rely on the Warp: Jump Drives, Quantum Slingshots, Gateways, and L-Gates.
“While I have been speaking with you, Grey Wind has already completed a database backup. Visit novelping.com for the full chapter.
At my word—or at the slightest sign of Warp corruption on my person—she will immediately sacrifice her own consciousness to fully disassemble into a Gray Tempest, launching a saturated random jump across the entire galaxy.
“If even a single Grey Tempest vessel survives and is discovered by the Imperium of Man, these four FTL technologies will fall into human hands. The chains the dark gods have wrapped around the Imperium’s neck will cease to exist.”
His speech finished, Russell let his hands fall to his sides.
He looked at the Zro Crystal before him with a calm gaze.
“What do you think?”
Silence stretched in the room.
After a long while, the weary voice spoke again.
“So, you were testing me. Testing to see if I had become a follower of Chaos. But… why not?”
“Huh?” Russell froze.
“You only just realized…”
“Yes,” Jabaxsti admitted candidly.
“The nuances of human metaphor and innuendo are rather difficult for me to grasp.”
Russell pressed a hand to his forehead.
“Your reactions are incredibly slow. You don’t seem like a prophet or a wise sage at all.”
“I was never a wise man, much less a prophet,” Jabaxsti sighed.
“I am merely a tragic soul who bore the lives and hopes of his people, forced to exterminate his own kind.”
Russell fell silent.
This did not match the script he had envisioned.
In Stellaris’s game mechanics, Jabaxsti’s spirit could provide various forms of guidance to empire leaders, telescoping the figure of an “ancient sage.”
The present situation was, quite frankly, a bit strangely discordant.
“I did not know that the sapient species here were trapped by the speed of light. If they must trespass through that hellish dimension just to navigate the cosmos, well… that is indeed a pity.”
Jabaxsti’s voice sounded somewhat despondent, and even the light on the crystal dimmed slightly.
“When I first arrived here, I gazed at the galaxy from the darkness beyond the void, and I could see nothing but calamity.
“The Shroud of this universe is unlike the pure, awe-inspiring one of my homeland. The Warp is saturated with endless suffering and chaos. I tried to channel psionic energy here, only to foresee a crisis of death… Why is that? Can you tell me?”