Chương 292: Primal Fear

The world didn't fade to subjective gray. It didn't stutter or freeze. The sheer density of the being standing on the other side of the black glass heart actively fought the simulation. The grey static tried to overwrite reality, but reality pushed back, resulting in a nauseating, strobe-light flicker between the ruined metal room and the sterile Void space. I couldn't breathe. It wasn't an attack; it was simply the physical consequence of existing near something with a gravitational pull on reality itself.

My lungs seized. My instincts — honed by fighting Warlords, Void Beasts, and may simulations of half-step Ascendants — didn't scream fight or flight. They screamed surrender. This entity made Vasud feel like a child. The [Void-Star] in my chest convulsed. The ambient fear threatened to smother my consciousness. But deep within the core of my Soul, where the jagged edges of the Void met the boundless potential of creation, something ignited. My Flame. It didn't roar.

It didn't burst outward in a show of bravado or reveal itself, staying deep within my Soul. It sparked — a tiny, resolute point of white-gold defiance within the center of my being. Entropy, the Flame seemed to whisper in the dark of my mind. Change is Constant, never to be feared. I latched onto that spark. I poured my Will into it, focusing not on the impossible weight of the being before me, but on the steady, familiar heat of my own existence. I have faced impossible odds and came out on top.

I met Gods and drank tea with them. I had fought one and won. I helped carve a peaceful civilization out of an Imperial apocalypse. I was not going to give in and die here without a fight. I forced air into my lungs. I unclenched my jaw. I shook the paralyzing dread off my shoulders like a wet, heavy cloak. In the flickering simulation, I quickly started acting, forcing my rigid spine to bow. Not in submission, but in the deepest, most formal expression of respect I could muster.

"I apologize for the intrusion," I said, my voice hoarse but steady.

"I have overstepped. I am merely a traveler investigating a tragedy." The crushing, essence-freezing pressure didn't vanish violently; it simply ceased to be. One moment it felt like I was buried under an ocean, and the next, I was standing in a calm breeze. I slowly raised my head. The entity was no longer obscured by my own terror. It was composed entirely of the same, brilliant green essence in the cables I had been cleaning the sludge off.

It was vaguely humanoid, shifting like a liquid projection held together by a memory. It didn't stand; it hovered inches above the pristine metal floor. It was just… watching me. No hostility. No demands. Just infinite, quiet observation. I narrowed my eyes. My baseline perception couldn't parse the details of the being. It was too bright, too conceptual. I had to look deeper.

I focused my Will, entering the Deep Void, forcing my [Void Perception] to punch through the surface layer of reality and then past the Lattice. The feedback was instantaneous and brutal. A migraine, sharp as a glass knife, spiked right behind my eyes. The entity's conceptual structure wasn't just complex; it was blinding. Looking at it was like trying to read a nation's worth of books simultaneously while staring into a star. The simulation snapped.

It couldn't handle the data load of rendering the being's true form while I was actively damaging my own soul trying to look at it. I gasped, reeling backward in the real, physical room of the Ley-Root Anchor. The grey static was gone. I was back in reality. And the entity was still there. I stood in front of Kaelen and Bennu, placing my body between them and the being of green light. The entity smiled. It didn't have a defined mouth, but the projection conveyed the emotion of a smile. A gentle, reassuring warmth.

I tried to use my [Void Perception] again, cautiously this time, focusing on smaller 'aspects' and 'feelings'. I didn't try to read its power; I tried to read its flavor. It felt… familiar. Not in the way Borvo or Kharonus felt familiar. It lacked the jagged edges of a person. It felt like the whispering trees in Oakhaven. It felt like the singing flowers in the Zenith resort. The entity glided forward. There was no sound of footsteps. It moved like sunlight creeping across a floor. It bypassed me completely.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. I tensed, my hand tightening on my Void-Blade, ready to attempt to deploy a cage if it showed hostile intent. But it didn't look at me. It looked at Kaelen. The massive Glimmerfox, who usually responded to unfamiliar entities with localized space-distortion and bared fangs, didn't growl. He stepped out from behind me, ignoring my protective stance. He padded forward, his starry mane brushing against my hip.

He walked right up to the towering being of green essence. Kaelen tilted his heavy head, his galaxy eyes wide, staring up into the featureless face. The entity smiled again. This time, the feeling that washed over the room wasn't just warmth. It was a profound, heartbreaking wave of love. It felt like a mother finding a lost child in a crowded market. It was a joy so pure it brought a lump to my throat. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the entity vanished. No portal, no fade-out. It was just… gone.

I stood there for a full ten seconds, staring at the empty space.

"What… what the hell was that?" I whispered, my heart rate slowly beginning to return to a normal rhythm.

"Jeeves? Did you read that?"

"Sensors register a massive spike in localized ambient mana, Master, but no hostile intent. It even registered as a spontaneous environmental event rather than an entity," Jeeves replied, his voice laced with confusion.

"I recommend immediate extraction."

"Agreed," I said, spinning around.

"Leoric, flag this coordinate. Maximum threat level. Prepare the [Vault] cages, but do not—" The world dropped out from under me. I didn't teleport. I didn't [Void Walk]. The brutalist metal room of the Ley-Root Anchor simply un-happened around us. I stumbled, catching myself on soft, vibrant green grass. I was no longer underground. I wasn't in the grey, ash-choked wasteland of ruined Sylvaris. I was standing in a garden. It was breathtaking.

Trees with leaves the color of polished emeralds towered hundreds of feet high, their branches interwoven to create a canopy that filtered the light into a soothing, aquatic hue. Streams of sparkling, pure water wove through beds of bioluminescent flowers that hummed a quiet, harmonic melody. The air was so dense with uncorrupted, revitalizing Essence that every breath I took felt like downing a top-tier healing potion. The lingering headache from my aggressive Perception use vanished instantly.

Standing by the edge of a crystalline stream, staring out into the impossible, lush horizon, was the entity. It was much clearer now, no longer a shifting blur of green light. It took the form of a woman. She was impossibly beautiful, wearing robes that seemed woven from the canopy leaves themselves. Her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of starlight. But my trained eyes caught the subtle, intentional details the disguise couldn't fully hide.

Through a low-level, cautious use of [Void Perception], I noticed the faint outline of elegant, pointed, fox-like ears hidden within her hair. Beneath the hem of her robes, the spectral, phantom image of a thick, bushy tail swayed gently in time with the breeze. She turned to face me.

"You did this," she said. Her voice wasn't audio. It was a concept transferred directly to my mind, possessing the same maternal, welcoming tone I had felt earlier. I looked around the impossible garden, bewildered.

"Did what?" I asked, gripping the hilt of my sword loosely.

"I've been in this world for a few weeks, I haven't really done anything noteworthy. I apologize if I've overstepped..." She smiled softly, a genuine expression of profound gratitude, and lifted a graceful hand to gesture at the vast, vibrant expanse around us.

"This," she repeated.

"I didn't plant any trees…" I said, shaking my head.

"The only thing I did was…" I paused. The green Essence. The toxins.

"... the glass heart," I finished quietly.

"I cleaned the cables. The black sludge."

"You removed the Silence from the Roots," she confirmed, taking a slow step toward me. Kaelen trotted forward eagerly, nuzzling his large head against her hand. She ran her fingers through his starry fur, a look of profound sorrow crossing her face before smoothing back into a gentle smile. Bennu hopped from my shoulder, landing on a nearby branch to chirp happily at the vibrant flowers.

"I cannot say much," the entity murmured, looking out at the illusory garden with a melancholy expression.

"I am still very weak. A memory trying to remember itself. But…" She turned back to me, her eyes shining with unshed, glowing tears.

"Thank you for this, truly. If you could continue... clearing the toxins. Allowing the circulation to resume... It will be well worth your time." The crushing, primal terror I had felt in the bunker was entirely gone. It had been replaced by a deep, resonant calm. The ambient atmosphere here was so violently relaxing I found my muscles unclenching involuntarily.

"Are you the World Core?" I asked, my mind racing as the puzzle pieces slammed together.

"The planetary Soul of Sylvaris?" The entity didn't answer with words. She just offered that same, incredibly sad, profoundly hopeful smile.

"Thank you for helping us remember what it was like," the feeling echoed in my mind again. The garden dissolved into light. I stumbled forward, my boots clanging loudly against the harsh metal floor of the Ley-Root Anchor. Kaelen let out a confused whine next to me, sniffing the air where the garden used to be. The ruined room was exactly as we had left it. I stared at the spot where the entity had stood. She was gone. I leaned against a console, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

"Master?" Jeeves prompted urgently.

"Are you safe? We lost connection, transmission was severed for precisely twelve seconds."

"I'm fine," I said, a little breathlessly.

"Just had a quick chat with the landlord."

"The landlord?"

"The World-Soul, maybe?" I guessed, pushing off the console and walking back toward the throbbing, contaminated cables of the massive glass heart.

"Whatever it is, it's very, very powerful. I am not even sure how to quantify its power. It's also barely alive and has asked me for help." I looked at the black sludge creeping sluggishly through the transparent veins.

"The entity I felt… the presence that almost crushed my mind in the Glimpse," I murmured to myself, setting up a new perimeter of [Vault] shields within the Void.

"It wasn't a threat, at least not in Intent. It just felt like the sheer, unfiltered weight of a planetary consciousness trying to manifest in a broken room. The reason I felt such pressure was because I was like a flashlight next to a sun. It was pure, primal fear." I placed my gauntlet against the largest cable, feeling Gluttony begin to shiver on my wrist in eager anticipation.

"She's weak, but she's the strongest being I've ever met," I chuckled softly, the irony of it hitting me.

"Terrifyingly so. And all she did was say 'Thank you'. Also, we really need to find out how this sludge-like Essence — stuff that Gluttony keeps trying to convince me is just a very delicious snack — was able to contain such a powerful being…" I looked at Kaelen, who had settled back onto his haunches, watching the green light pulse. He looked peaceful.

"Well," I grinned, feeling the white-gold flame of my Domain flare to life alongside the consuming dark of the Void.

"If the landlord asks nicely, who am I to refuse some basic maintenance? Let's get back to cleaning."