Chương 60: Please Necromance the Custodian

Keeper #4, 091 did not appear to share the lich's appreciation for timing. The Keeper stared at the ancient entity and his exhaustion was completely overshadowed by a frantic worry.

"Can you save him?" Keeper #4, 091 demanded. Morzath looked down at Albert. The Chief Custodian was pinned beneath several tons of shattered masonry, bleeding out across the floor. The lich's purple eye lights shifted lazily over the vascular trauma and the failing biological systems.

"No," Morzath said simply. Keeper #4, 091 went entirely still. The frantic energy seemed to vanish, replaced by silence.

"Not in the sense you mean," Morzath continued, his voice echoing with the dry resonance across the room.

"His body is finished." The blue System text hovering in the air beside them seem to silently agree. BIOLOGICAL RESTORATION: NONVIABLE SOUL-STATE COHERENCE: DEGRADING IDENTITY CONTINUITY WINDOW: LIMITED Keeper #4, 091 stared at the glowing blue words. He looked at Albert, who was struggling to keep his eyes open as the edges of his vision darkened. Then the Keeper looked back at Morzath and changed the question.

"Can you preserve him?" Morzath paused. The purple fire in his eye sockets flickered once, sharpening into something far more dangerous.

"That is a considerably different request," the lich said.

"I know."

"Do you?" Morzath asked, his ancient voice dropping into a pitch that made the dust on the floor vibrate.

"I can preserve identity," Morzath said, lifting one skeletal hand.

"I can preserve memory. I can preserve soul continuity and cognitive autonomy." He lowered his hand, pointing a single, sharp finger toward Albert's ruined chest.

"I cannot preserve biological life. I cannot preserve normal mortality. And I will not simply bind his soul to the nearest available object like a common thrall."

"Will he still be Albert?" the Keeper asked. Morzath's purple eyes narrowed.

"I can keep his soul from dispersing. Your Archive must keep hold of who that soul belongs to."

"It will."

"You sound very certain."

"I am." Morzath tilted his skull.

"We shall see." The air between them shimmered. A new panel materialized above Albert, glowing with an intense, golden light. EMERGENCY STAFF CONTINUITY REQUEST AVAILABLE Employee: ALBERT Position: CHIEF CUSTODIAN Biological continuity: IMPOSSIBLE Identity continuity: POSSIBLE Continuity method: NECROMANTIC Employee consent: REQUIRED WHERE COGNITIVELY AVAILABLE Keeper #4, 091 knelt beside Albert in the dust.

"Albert," the Keeper said quietly. Albert forced his eyes to focus on the exhausted administrator.

"Your body cannot be restored," Keeper #4, 091 said plainly.

"I had suspected," Albert whispered, his voice incredibly faint.

"Morzath believes he can preserve your mind and your soul. You would not remain alive in the conventional sense." Albert turned his head slightly, looking past the Keeper to the terrifying undead entity kneeling on the other side of the ruined marble.

"Undead?" Albert managed.

"Technically," Morzath said. Albert grimaced.

"I dislike that word."

"Most of the living do," Morzath noted mildly. Albert looked back at Keeper #4, 091. It took an enormous effort to draw the breath required for his next question.

"Would I still be employed?" Keeper #4, 091 let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Despite everything, despite the Archive shaking around them and the failing reality…the man almost laughed. If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. EMPLOYMENT STATUS: CONTINUITY ELIGIBLE"Yes," the Keeper promised.

"You would still be employed." Albert closed his eyes.

"Then proceed." Morzath nodded once.

"System," Keeper #4, 091 said, his voice instantly returning to a tone of absolute authority.

"Initiate emergency staff continuity." The golden text vanished, replaced by a series of rigid, unyielding parameters. NECROMANTIC CONTINUITY CONDITIONS Identity preservation: REQUIRED Memory preservation: REQUIRED Personality preservation: REQUIRED Institutional recognition: REQUIRED Loyalty overwrite: PROHIBITED Morzath read the final line.

"Good." Keeper #4, 091 looked at him sharply.

"Good?"

"I despise compulsory loyalty," Morzath said dryly, beginning to trace a complex series of violet runes into the air above Albert's chest.

"It ruins the conversation." The Keeper didn't argue. He placed his hands on the floor beside Albert, establishing the institutional anchor. The procedure was not a grotesque dark magic. It was surprisingly quiet. Violet runes slowly circled Albert's crushed form, humming with power.

Primary continuity anchor: ORIGINAL SKELETAL STRUCTURE Skeletal integrity: CRITICAL Necromantic reconstruction: INITIATED Keeper #4, 091 anchored the institutional identity, forcing the Archive's System to recognize exactly who Albert was. Morzath managed the metaphysical continuity, ensuring that the "who" did not dissipate when the biological vessel finally failed.

"His original structure remains the optimal anchor," Morzath said, his voice echoing slightly as he worked. Keeper #4, 091 looked down at the crushed marble.

"His bones?"

"They have spent four centuries being Albert," the lich replied.

"That makes them considerably better suited for continuity than anything I could manufacture." Beneath the heavy marble block, shattered bone drew slowly back together. Fragments shifted through the violet light, knitting silently along lines that had belonged to Albert for centuries. BIOLOGICAL FUNCTION: TERMINATED A profound silence fell over the small circle of magic. The pain that had pinned Albert to the floor vanished instantly. The soft, pulsing blue and gold light of his soul detached from the ruined flesh.

Morzath moved his hands downward. SOUL-STATE CONTINUITY: MAINTAINED The light sank directly into Albert's reconstructed skeleton. The ruined, crushed flesh was consumed by the preservation ritual, burning away into fine, grey ash that drifted across the floor. The shape beneath the marble block became smaller. Then, two brilliant sapphire lights ignited in the empty eye sockets. Albert awoke. He didn't gasp for air, because he no longer had lungs.

He didn't feel the crushing weight of the beams, because bone did not register pain in the same way flesh did. He lay perfectly still for a moment, Then, Albert raised his head. He looked down at his ruined black uniform, now draped over an immaculate, bleached ribcage. He lifted his hands. The pristine white cotton was gone, consumed by the magic, leaving bare skeletal fingers. A long pause filled the ruined room.

"My gloves are gone," Albert observed, his voice echoing strangely inside his own skull.

"You no longer possess skin," Morzath pointed out.

"That does complicate uniform policy," Albert noted. The Archive's System chimed softly in the air above him. STAFF CONTINUITY RESTORED Employee: ALBERT - CHIEF CUSTODIAN Employment: ACTIVE Identity continuity: VERIFIED Memory continuity: VERIFIED Biological status: DECEASED Operational status: UNDEAD Albert read the blue text carefully.

"Am I dead?" he asked the lich.

"Yes," Morzath said.

"Am I alive?" Morzath considered the question thoughtfully.

"That question has started several wars." Albert looked at the second line of the System panel.

"Am I still employed?" Status: ACTIVE"Very well," Albert said. He gripped the edge of the huge beam that had killed him. With a sudden, surprising strength, he shoved the stone off his legs. It hit the floor with a cracking sound. Albert sat up while his blue eye lit up and swept across the wreckage until they found his wooden broom lying several feet away beneath a bunch of parchment. He reached out and retrieved it. Keeper #4, 091 let out a long exhale. The exhaustion seemed to crash back over him instantly.

He looked at the skeletal custodian, visibly relieved. He even reached a hand toward Albert's shoulder, before stopping himself just short. Albert noticed the hesitation.

"I'm sorry," Keeper #4, 091 said softly. Albert tilted his skull.

"For what, sir?" The Keeper opened his mouth to answer, but another impact shook the Infinite Archive. The sound was deafening, a terrible, tearing noise that vibrated through the stone and echoed throughout. REALITY INTEGRITY: CRITICAL The lighting in the distant East Wing flickered and died, plunging entire sections of the Archive into darkness. Albert stood up. His first few movements were slightly awkward, adjusting to the terrifying lightness of a body without muscle or flesh, but he found his balance quickly.

He tightened his grip on the broom handle.

"You have been undead for approximately 12 seconds," Morzath observed dryly.

"There are still staff in the building," Albert replied. Keeper #4, 091 watched the skeletal custodian step over the shattered marble. The Keeper's eyes drifted to the glowing blue System panel that had restored Albert's employment status. EMPLOYEE CONTINUITY: STABLE Projected operational lifespan: INDEFINITE Keeper #4, 091 went very still. He kept staring at the final word. INDEFINITE. Something in the Keeper's exhausted expression changed. Albert had not noticed.

He had found his broom, and the Archive still required some cleaning.