Chương 57: The Living Flesh Forge - 1

He had to hand it to the Church of Immortal Praise, when it came to their experiments using artifacts they described as 'evil' by one of their top priests, they were extremely thorough in their control methods. Thousands of test subjects across as many experiments attested to such. So much so, it did give WARHOL pause, if only for a moment.

After reading so many studies, though, with still more than he could finish in a month or more beside him waiting for their turn, he could say he was no closer to having an understanding of how to shield himself from the 'sinister whisperings' which many of the test subjects reported before falling prey to madness. Did he think he would fall prey to madness, like them? No. Warhol was the Omni-Wizard, the greatest magic user to ever exist and which probably would ever exist.

His mental constitution was leagues above that of a churchgoer. So as his Magical Prowess, for that matter, which as anyone who was anyone knew, determined, in part, one's psychological resistance to monsters of the mind. He would go and purchase mind-related Boons from the Holy Shop and yet he had no Boon Points. He would need to level up to earn more and that was the problem... unless he wanted to return to space and fight the Horror, he couldn't expect to earn another level up for a couple decades, at least.

"What am I to do?" he asked himself. The only answer which came to him was the riskiest — move on with his own experiment. He was different from the people in the church's studies. He wasn't a normal worshipper who unknowingly volunteered themselves to be a guineapig. He had a constitution far above the typical magic user. He also had knowledge about the magical and the monstrous which was far above the typical mage.

The only way he was going to discover the limits of his power vis-a-vis this artifact was take the dive. Warhol told the system to "Integrate the artifact." The System did as it usually did and beeped and blooped. [Artifact Integration Complete: View Graph?] Graph? That was new. He confirmed "Yes, show me the graph, please." A graph materialized before him showing him an outline of his body into sections, each section had a limb; two legs, two arms, his torso, and head.

A number toward the right read [Human: 100%]. Just below that was another number: [Artifact Charge: 100%]. He focused on the [Artifact Charge] and saw a new menu open. This menu had a list of 'mutation' options for each body section. There were options for enhanced speed, enhanced strength, night vision, even wings, and more obscure mutations besides.

All of the mutations, however, were 'grayed' out and not able to be selected; whenever he attempted to select an option the said told him, [Negative Reinforcement Required Before Mutation: Begin Negative Reinforcement?]. He lingered on the decision. Yet, why, when there was no good reason to linger? [Confirm: Begin Negative Reinforcement], he selected and waited for whatever was to happen to happen. The artifact emitted a high-pitched noise as it floated over him.

Its many micro-vents opened and bathed him in dark purple mist. He breathed in deep, not bothering for safety procedures when his express purpose was to mutate himself into something inhuman. He felt tingly but nothing else. For thirty minutes the artifact continued to bath him in the dark purple mist. He breathed in, out, and was mostly just bored. When it finally stopped emitting mist, he opened his HUD again and checked his status on the graph map of his body.

It startled him when the [Human] tag now read only [99%] instead of the previous one hundred. It was only one percent, sure, but it worked — the mist had made him a little bit less human! When he checked his [Artifact Charge], however, that dropped down to [0%]. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. That was not all the changes, however. Warhol opened his stats menu and saw, to his shock, his stats having improved by no less than 25%!

"Whoa... just whoa!" There was no more denying it; this artifact lived up to its reputation, both as an artifact and as something the church feared. There wasn't any way he could act overly cautious with this thing anymore. He had to use this thing for what it was worth! Assuming the artifact allowed him to mutate when he again charged it to completion, that would entail — at the very minimum — several Guardian Construct's defeat at the Oldest Complex.

Which took time when he factored in charging doors, solving runic puzzles, and dispatching the constructs themselves. Though he had advanced within the complex to such a point where the level for the Guardians ballooned, which would, hopefully, balloon even higher thus allowing him to fill the artifact faster, it still would take him longer than he preferred to fill the artifact. Which meant... Warhol sighed. It was time to return to the Oldest Complex. This time, he would do so without Frank.

The man needed to rest, and he needed to carve a path of destruction. When he [Teleported] into the Oldest Complex, it was unrecognizable from when he first discovered it. Multiple chambers and passages were filled with people, families, and even pets, complete with temporary housing, artificial crops, and athletic fields. Parts of the wall had been painted by both children and professionals and gave the whole place a lived-in feel. Clearly, Frank's efforts among the elite stratum of society had paid off.

Incanting [Locate: Noir], he blinked toward her position in one of the labs. Upon seeing him, she shrieked.

"Warhol! What are — gods, you jumped me!" He grinned.

"Apologies, madame researcher. I was just wondering if you could give me an update on the state of the complex?"

"Oh, of course, Warhol. As you can see," Noir waved her arms about, indicating.

"Much has changed. This chamber is just one of several dozens of chambers filled with people, researchers, and laborers working around the clock to decode the mysteries of this place. I estimate there's maybe around fifteen thousand people? Hard to say for sure."

"Wow! That's an improvement since last I checked. I imagine there is still a lot of living space to move into? No monster trouble?"

"Oh, yes. Lots of space! As long as you keep clearing out passages from time to time, it will keep us well-stocked with elbow room. And no monsters worth talking about. A few goblin slimes but nothing more. There's a number of warriors down here which would surprise you, so we're not lacking in security." Warhol was pleased to hear of the complex's smooth running.

It had been such a daunting undertaking, convincing people to come down here for research purposes, he wondered if anyone would even want to come all the way down here to live out a precarious existence. Apparently, when the alternative was the surface, the answer to that was a resounding 'yes'!

"Very good. How is the research going itself? Make any headway on my hypothesis of the Sea Folk being the originators of this thing?" Warhol was most curious about this. In recent days, all thought of the Sea Folk had faded from his mind, replaced with more pressing issues. Now that he had a moment, he was again curious.

"Not so much evidence of the Sea Folk, I am afraid, but there is a lot of evidence indicating that numerous peoples, including, maybe, the Sea Folk, were involved in its construction over a long period of time. We've completed artifact storage rooms if you wish to parse some of the relics we've uncovered," Noir handed him a re-worked local map with relic storage locations highlighted in blue.

"Tempting, but I am on the clock! Multiple ancient people, though? That, I dare say, is even more fascinating than it just being the Sea Folk! I wonder if these people worked together on it at the same time or if they inherited it from one civilization before them?" At this point, he was talking to himself, but he couldn't help but wonder aloud.

"I know! There are nights where I can't sleep because my mind is racing with the possibilities!" He and Noir chatted for a while more and then went their separate ways. His mind swam with potentials, the history, the implications! It made him want to sift through all the relics they discovered and read every research summary. Obviously, he couldn't, since he had Guardian Constructs to blow apart, but the temptation remained. Another mid-[Teleport] and Warhol were back at the furthest point reached in the Complex.

He placed his hands on the door, brought the door to fully charged and opened within a fraction of the time as usual, and took a deep breath. From here on out, he had purpose; he wasn't going to be destroying Guardians and playing puzzles for no reason other than a gut's inclination that doing so might be relevant to pushing back the Horror incoming.

Now, he understood, his action here, in absorbing the spiritual essence of these Guardians, would lead to improvements for himself would be relevant in pushing back the Horror which approached. All he had to do was get busy blasting bones back to dust.