Chương 19: The Egghead Frontier - 2

WARHOL spent far too long acting (again) as a human battery charger. Once his academic team, the first team, he hoped, of many, had arrived at the Oldest Complex, they spread out quickly and insisted on seeing as much of the complex as possible, his own magics helping them levitate off the ground so they could traverse more of the complex without tiring. This meant he had to unlock many more mana locks and charge more Power Crystals. His laborious efforts bore a succulent harvest, blessed be he.

The researchers discovered many more sites within the complex which bore runic language. Not only that, but artifacts with symbology consistent with societies within the vicinity of suspected Sea Folk areas were found. He still needed pure proof, something undeniably 'Sea Folk,' but the day had been a discovery and a half already, so he had to be patient. At the end of the first day, Warhol was more tired than he had been in, well, years he couldn't actually remember. An oddity for him!

At this point in his life, Warhol's stamina was so high, he could stay up for days and days without needing sleep, no matter how many incantations he performed. Yet... the battle with Valkathor, teaching his son, talking with Frank, investigating the Complex, returning to speak with Frank more, then gathering an academic team, and finally returning to the complex to perform incredible acts of Unlocking, had all been done without any sleep. He was exhausted. And what a quaint feeling that was, to him.

It made him feel human. What a great feeling! Human, normal! He slept like a rock that night. A true, mossy, wet or dry rock. No dreaming, no tossing or turning. Just pure sleep. No one attempted to interrupt his rest. As such, he slept for a couple of days. That was more time than he intended to sleep for, but oh well! One can't buck progress's price! He woke and stretched his limbs much to the surprise of an academic who was nearby and studying the groove formations within a mural.

"Progress report!" he asked, going to each researcher on site and asking what they had done in his restful absence. The short of it was a lot. The biggest discovery, by far, was the locating of a map showing the whole of the complex. It wasn't a blueprint, which was a shame, but it did show the entirety of the complex in a general sense.

They knew that because a planet shaped orb was seen with continent shapes inside the orb, and streaks and lines then appeared within that shape, and said streaks traversed the whole of the orb. Similar but more detailed maps were then located soon after along with mention of 'Regional and Continental Zones.'

He was about to return to his life of a battery charger when one of the researchers, the lead lady who went by the name of Noir, said, "Sire, we've found what we think is a reference to a central energy chamber!" Now that got his attention!

"Exactly the kind of stuff I want to hear! Tell me all about it!"

"Sir! In this tablet, as you can see, there is a passage, here, about 'And to charge the core with absolute faith, an army of gods is needed for the ultimate task.' We have taken this to mean as the 'core' in the central conception of the word. As a power source. Would you disagree?" There wasn't any reason for him to disagree. Although, a tingling in the back of his mind told him it could, however unlikely, mean something else.

"I think you are right. This passage likely is referring to a 'core,' meaning, a central power source. The only other meaning it could have is that of a dungeon core, but that is exceedingly unlikely considering 'dungeons' as artifacts haven't been seen for millennia, as you probably know..." A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Aye, sir! What a discovery that would be, though, right?" Noir laughed. Warhol laughed with her but inside he thought about how horrid a dungeon discovery would be; he had read ancient tomes which talked about the dungeons, how they dominated the planet and twisted life to bend to their wills. To him, that sounded awful. One problem at a time. Noir then walked him through the basics of where they thought the central processing core for the Oldest Complex was located. The answer was deep within the planet.

Obviously...

"Thank you for your help, Noir. Now, I would not be doing my job if I didn't get back to it. I am off to investigate this central core. Please do report what we've found so far to Frank. I am sure he is anxious to hear good news. If we don't find stuff, he won't have any leverage in gathering us support."

"Understood, mister Warhol. I have been keeping in contact with him, no worries. Oh, before you go, please take this communication beetle. We got a new shipment in recently." Noir handed him a beetle. He touched it and filled the beetle with magic. In response, it hovered near his ear.

"Thank you, Noir! These beetles, handy buggers, aren't they? I was just going to open a teleportation portal and stick my face through if I needed to talk to you! This is better. Probably less intrusive, too! Poor beetles, though — oke doke, chat soon!" And so, he left Noir the same way he left many a lady in his life. Confused, smiling, but mostly weirded out.

Warhol burned the schematics of the base into his mind with [Map] so he could refer to it as he traveled; with each new part of the complex he explored, the newly discovered area was added automatically to his magically formed mental map. He spent most of the day acting out his super-powered-battery-charger-with-legs routine. A productive way to spend the day, but a boring one. Warhol had finished his sixtieth such stint as a human charger when things got interesting.

He had finished his lunch — a meager meal consisting of mana-formed meat and cheese roasted over bread — when he encountered the first passageway which, according to Noir, would lead him down to the processing core. He used [Locate: Processing Core] but the results he got back were iffy at best; even for magic as highly powered as his, if the magic did not have a frame of reference for what he was attempting to locate, only vague information would be the result.

[Search] was no better, with his only findings being a stunning number of corridors which stretched on like spider-webs through an entire forest. The door leading deeper into the complex, and hopefully the core, was intricate. It was carved with all manner of runes, glyphs, and magical insignia. Although the magic within the door had worn with time, Warhol still sensed profound potency inside. Who or whatever had carved these doors, were powerful beyond measure.

He couldn't help but smile — that meant he was on the right track! Laying his hands on the door, Warhol began infusing the door with mana. Oh. So. Much. Mana! Warhol was never one to complain about his lot in life. If for no other reason than his lot in life was pretty darn good. One Mind Slop infection notwithstanding. But lock infusions? They were just tedious. Locks did little to an enemy other than frustrate and slow them down.

Which was, obviously, the point, but still, he preferred more direct defenses to keep people out, like mind magic or spike drops. Not this. An hour or five passed before the mana lock... unlocked. He was happy when he heard it click, sure, but he also couldn't help but think what the point of the lock was? Each lock, this one far more than the others, demanded to much mana to unlock. What was the point? Riches beyond measure? Not in a complex this old. Dangerous technology?

Maybe, though it was hard for him to think of something more dangerous than the magi-stone bombs they already had at their disposal. These thoughts and more faded once the door's internal mechanisms unlatched themselves. One by one, the glyphs disengaged which de-coded the runes, which effaced the insignia, which in turn, dismounted the hidden sigils subtending all. The massive circular stone gate descended and fell into a slot in the ground with a clang.

"FINALLY!" he snapped.

"Now, what is beyond?"