The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage WM [106] Life Force of the Lower Plane

WM [106] Life Force of the Lower Plane

The familiar black obelisk lood before them, its surface humming with aetheric power, pulsing like a heartbeat. The Administration Site stretched across the landscape, a vast and sprawling complex where at least one hundred thousand humans lived, worked, and died within its suffocating protection. All of them were slaves to the whims of the so-called divine and her cruel machinations.

Inside the barrier, the world seed deceptively peaceful. The sky was whole, a vibrant blue instead of the fractured ruin beyond. The air was clean, untouched by the corruption that poisoned the outside. But beneath the illusion of tranquility lay sothing far worse.

There was no life here. Only servitude. The pristine streets, the orderly structures were nothing more than the cages of a nagerie. No, that wasn’t right. This wasn’t a sanctuary for preservation. It was a slaughterhouse.

The group crossed the barrier into Echo Administration Site 15. Isin could barely stand, his weight sagging between Martin and Adolf as they dragged him forward. The pain in his severed wrists felt like they carried liquid fire instead of blood. Fatigue gnawed at his bones, each step heavier than the last.

Before they could take another breath, on-site security closed in. Ard guards surged toward them, weapons drawn in practiced efficiency. The sa routine check. The sa suspicion. They weren’t verifying identity. They were ensuring the group wasn’t a pack of creation beasts masquerading as humans.

Isin tried to keep his eyes open, but the world was already slipping away. Darkness swallowed him before he could see what happened next.

***

Isin woke up with a start, his head nearly hitting the top of his pod. He reached up to touch his face only to feel nothing. For a mont he forgot why but as the mories of both of his hands being cut off by Nuriel resurfaced he gritted his teeth and laid down. He had been healed but his hands had not been reattached or regrown. He didn’t have enough contribution tokens to pay for his hands to be regenerated. He would have to get prosthetics.

He struck the side of his pod with his forearm and winced in pain. He couldn’t lose his composure now. He had to get as many people as possible to go with him on a new expedition to the Alpha Extraction Site and finally leave this place behind.

“Ramsi how many contribution tokens do I have?” Isin asked.

Ramsi was the site's Aetheric Program with access to all information on the site. It spoke in a cold monotone in the pod.

“Query: 4214 is your current balance an amount of 257 was recently withdrawn to pay for your dical treatnt.”

“Why weren’t my hands reattached.” Isin questioned.

“Query: The severed appendages were not suitable for reintegration. You lack the contribution tokens to pay for total rejuvenation.”

“How am I supposed to work if I don’t have my hands?”

“Query: There are a selection of prosthetics that will suit your requirents…” Ramsi paused for a long mont. “Notice Imdiate Action: The Site Administrator has restricted Number 293, Isin, from any prosthetics or procedures that would return functionality to his hands. At this ti please leave the dical wing.”

“What in the Infernal Planes! Ramsi, how can she refuse to let get dical treatnt,” Isin scread.

“Query: As property of the Site Administrator, your well-being is at her discretion. Please leave the dical wing.”

Property.

Isin stared at the ceiling of the pod, his vision blurring with rage.

Property!

The pod’s seal hissed open, releasing him into the sterile white light of the dical wing. The air was thick with the stench of antiseptic and burning flesh. The latter was a regrettably familiar scent.

Several android assistants moved between the rows of stasis pods, their tal hands adjusting IV lines and scanning patients with cold efficiency. So of those patients would never wake up. Those who couldn’t afford to live were simply left to die and the mont their vitals flatlined, their bodies were sent to cremation. Just like the miners, who were always one accident away from ending up here, waiting to die because they couldn’t pay to be saved.

Isin forced himself to move, his feet hitting the cold floor as an android assisted him. His body was sluggish, but his mind was burning. He left the dical wing in a hurry. Outside Martin was waiting for him leaned against a light post. It was night ti now the false sky illuminated with thousands of stars.

It reminded him that he had never seen real stars before. He didn’t even know if stars were real or if it was just sothing the Angels made up. The real sky was broken, eternally red and cracked. It was only inside of the Angel’s dos did he see stars at night.

“It is about ti.” Martin said. “Here I thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“Just ran into so issues.” Isin said.

“Issue is an understatent. Now lets get back to the… Isin your hands.” Martin said as his face scrunched up in confusion. “You didn’t get them reattached or sothing?”

“You can thank our gracious Divine for this.” Isin said sharply.

“Do you need more contribution tokens? I can give you as many as I have.” Martin said.

“Thanks but no, that’s not it. But it doesn’t matter. She wants to see her personally.”

“Shit, man, are you going tonight?” Martin asked darkly.

“Unless you want to feed and wipe my ass for .” Isin said, showing the stumps of his arms for added effect. “Oh and dressing too.”

“Eh. You don’t think she is going to kill you do you?” Martin said tactfully to avoid the comnt.

“No, she just wants to beg.” Isin said. “Where is Adolf?”

“He went to talk to Ambroz’s family. We already saw the others.”

Isin nodded, he had other questions but, they had to be careful how they talked. Ramsi could hear all conversations inside the campus and would report any suspicious behavior to Nuriel. There was only one place they could speak relatively safely and that would be deep in the mine. Until then they were the only survivors of the expedition and they couldn’t say anything to contradict that.

“Alright, after I talk with Divine Nuriel we will try to get more contribution tokens in the mine. See if you can gather a crew.”

It was the code for gathering as many people as possible so they can speak freely. Everyone at the Alpha Extraction Site had family they wanted brought back. They would think they are dead, Isin wanted to get as many of them together as fast as possible to show them otherwise. That there is safety beyond this do and they can make it to freedom.

***

Nuriel’s palace was a gilded building of gold, silver and mithril guarded by the R Series elite chanized defence force. Under the scrutiny of the androids none dared to enter the domain of the angel without cause. These were the most deadly of the machines built by the angels and their eyes bore deep into any that sought an audience.

The mont he approached the grand entrance of the Angelic Palace, a low hum resonated through the air. The towering gilded doors bore no visible ans of opening, no handles, no seams; there was only radiant tal. He had been here before, but never had he seen them closed. A flicker of uncertainty tightened his throat. What now?

As if answering his question sothing descended with unsettling silence. Isin imdiately backed away from the door as the figure, both srizing and unnerving, landed effortlessly. It’s elongated limbs folding and straightening in perfect synchronization.

The guardian stood at just over eight feet, its fra impossibly sleek. Its entire body was forged from a tallic alloy that shimred like liquid silver, shifting and adjusting with every motion as if alive. What drew the eye most were the six golden rings spinning in slow, deliberate rotations behind its back. The odd construct glowed an aetheric fire at their edges.

Four arms extended outward, each adorned with impossibly thin fingers. The lower set of limbs rested against its sides, while the upper pair brandished twin plasma-edged blades which humd with raw energy. The threat was obvious and Isin took another cautious step back.

Isin knew of this android but had never seen it in person. It was the R Series, R-02: Ophanim and like all the R Series it was extrely deadly. Instead of a face it had a smooth, featureless mask interrupted by a single vertical slit in the center. There was a brilliant, spiraling eye of white-blue light.

A voice followed. Perfectly balanced between divine and chanical.

“State your purpose, Number 293” the Ophanim said.

“I seek an audience with the Divine if she would have .” Isin said with a bow of his head.

“The Divine seeks no company. Leave.”

Isin did not argue, he knew that would an death. He turned on his heel and began to walk away when he felt the aether thicken and the feeling of being watched return. Isin didn’t have the ti to react before the Ophanim was in front of him so close he nearly walked into it.

“The Divine has ordered you to enter.” The android said.

The change in directive must have co after Nuriel saw it was him trying to enter. He nodded and turned back around to the now open doorway. The android followed right behind him leaving barely a foot of space between them as if he were going to try and run away.

Isin decided to activate his aetheric sight that allowed him to see aether. He glanced around at the android and saw the formulae that made up its existence. He nearly gasped but kept walking forward. Normally the formulae he saw was practically unknowable gibberish. Small strands of it made sense but most were beyond his comprehension. After his experience with the corruption and small strands of it entering his core he had not used the power to examine sothing as complex as the Ophanim.

Every sigil, every pattern, every command sequence, he understood it all. He thought about it, with that kind of knowledge what could he do? If he could comprehend the Ophanim’s inner workings... could he alter them? Could he rewrite the will of the machines? Could he take them from the angels? Could he claim an Angel Core?

Sweat fell from his brow as he deeply considered his next options. Was he really going to do this? Doing so was literally betting it all and he had no idea if it would even work. He stopped walking which caused the Android to stop as well. He turned to face the Ophanim, his eyes sharp as he lifted his arm.

Strands of aether and what he thought of as the corruption of creation reached towards the waiting machine. It look to grow increasingly impatient and was slowly inching towards him. Then his power connected to it. At the sa ti it grabbed him to push him forward. It stopped mid motion as Isin found the command sequences that would make it move and changed it with the corruption instead of aether.

He found another command that would send out an alarm if it were tampered with He cut the sequence from the rest. He saw the aether in the machine fight back against the changes. Aether was too proud to move how he wanted so he mixed it more and more with the corruption that was also in his core. The more he changed it the more it shifted in color. Gold, to silver to pale blue to vibrant blue. He didn’t know what it ant but he understood that he could move it far more freely than the aether or the corruption before it changed.

The two figures stood there both facing each other as the war inside the Ophanim raged. It could not call back up, it could barely move, it could not even speak but one of its arms wielding the glowing blade raised to cut him down. The motion was slow, agonizingly so, but unstoppable. The golden blade humd, vibrating as it inched toward his clavicle.

Isin grit his teeth, muscles straining against pain. The burning edge cut into his skin, slicing through flesh and into bone, a single centiter at a ti. His breath hitched but he refused to falter. This was it. The mont. His gamble.

Then, the blade stopped. The Ophanim’s arm fell to its side. The radiant steel retracted. It simply stood there. Silent aside for the humming of aether within it. Isin dropped to one knee, chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow. The pain in his shoulder throbbed in ti with his pounding heartbeat, but he had no ti to care. He had done it. The Ophanim was his.

He looked inward and felt the shift in his core. No longer was it rely aether’s gold or corruption’s silver. Sothing new had erged; it was a deep luminous blue. Faint but undeniable and now that he recognized it, he saw it everywhere. In the air, in the stone beneath his feet, even within the most sacred site of Nuriel’s domain.

Not just power. Not just energy. It was the world itself, it was the thing that made up this plane. Only one na ca to mind as he thought about it. Only one thing made sense to him. He called this energy, this life force of the plane, mana.

He exhaled, forcing himself to his feet. One machine ant nothing. The Angels had thousands but it was a beginning. A fracture in their control. Isin could see a glimpse of victory after so many defeats. Tears ca to his eyes. He could see it now, the path to breaking their rule. He needed more power. He needed to master this new force and above all, he needed an Angel Core.