Chương 48: Maintenance Passage

In the instant before the life-support pipeline came crashing down, Rowan finally squeezed out a sliver of mana. He did not even have time to fully construct a Spell Model. Acting on instinct, he pushed that tiny amount of mana into his right hand. [Frost-Chill Gauntlets] began to take shape. The layer of ice had only just reached his wrist when the pipeline fell. Crack. Rowan heard the ice split beside his ear. The heavy pipeline scraped across the forming gauntlet and was knocked half a foot off course.

The broken array lines wrapped around its outer layer burst into dim shards of light before his eyes. A moment later, the side of the pipeline still slammed into his shoulder and chest. The impact lifted him off the ground and hurled him into the nutrient fluid nearby. His vision went black. When Rowan opened his eyes again, the surroundings were quiet in a way that felt unreal. The gray-white suppression mist had thinned a great deal.

At least it no longer pressed down on him so hard that even breathing felt difficult. But the cold medicinal smell still lingered in the air, mixed with blood, nutrient fluid, burned fungus, and monster fluids, like a rotting film stuck to his throat. Rowan listened carefully. No footsteps. No voices. Only distant muffled sounds from behind the isolation gates, intermittent and unclear. He could not tell whether it was machinery biting back into place, or something striking the walls deeper inside.

He waited for two more breaths before trying to move his fingers. His right hand could move. A sharp pain came from his left shoulder. His chest felt dull and heavy. When he breathed, it felt as if something were pressing down on his ribs. Bit by bit, he pulled his right hand out of the dirty fluid. [Frost-Chill Gauntlets] had already shattered, leaving only a few thin pieces of ice clinging to the back of his hand. Blood seeped through the cracks in the ice, its color diluted by the nutrient fluid.

Rowan stared at those fragments for half a second. If not for them, he would probably be dead now. The thought stayed in his mind for only a moment before he pushed it down. Surviving was only the first step. He was still inside the containment room. Solly's side had been cut off by an isolation gate. Adams and Carl's side had also been sealed away by the gate that had pushed out from the wall. Grey Raven had gone into the maintenance passage behind the control console.

The locust-octopus creature had escaped into the waste-fluid recovery shaft and had not returned, but no one could guarantee it would not crawl back out. Rowan tried circulating mana. The pressure on his body had vanished. His mana now flowed smoothly again. He braced himself against the ground and sat up. Beneath him were nutrient fluid, broken glass, and blood. The life-support pipeline that had struck him lay across the floor beside him. Cloudy liquid still dripped from its severed end.

The other end was jammed into the wall, blocking the spot where he had been lying moments ago. Rowan did not look toward Carl. He could no longer see that side. The second isolation gate and a large fallen alloy support frame blocked the way. Behind the frame, broken pipes were piled together like a mass of metal intestines that had been crushed and twisted. Adams, Carl, and the bloodwater pooled around Carl were all sealed on the other side. He looked toward Solly's direction.

The first isolation gate was as thick as a wall. Its base was locked into the floor track, leaving only a few narrow seams. Dim yellow warning lights flickered beyond the gaps, but there were no voices. Rowan supported himself against the wall and stood up. He walked to the isolation gate and tapped it with the handle of his dagger. Thud. The sound was dull. He waited. No response. Rowan knocked twice more, this time a little harder. Still no response. That did not mean Solly and Syringe were dead.

The isolation gate was too thick, the suppression mist had not fully dispersed, and something else might have happened on Solly's side. For now, this path was blocked. Rowan withdrew his dagger and did not waste more strength. Scattered items covered the floor. Fragments of preservation boxes, damaged detection needles, cracked sample jars, and Syringe's fallen communication toolbox. The toolbox had been shaken open by the isolation gate, spilling much of its contents out.

Rowan crouched and dragged the toolbox over. It should have contained spare signal spikes, micro signal lines, magitech clamps for repairs, and other tools. Now half of it was soaked in nutrient fluid. Several signal spikes had cracked shells, and their green indicator lines had gone completely dark. He sorted through them one by one. In the end, he found eight that could still light up. Two of them glowed unsteadily, their edges flickering on and off as if they might fail at any moment.

Rowan still tucked them into the inner layer of the toolbox. He remembered how the Electric-Fungus Rats in the right-route sample room had rushed toward the signal spikes. His fingers paused on the edge of the toolbox. These things might prove unexpectedly useful. He slung the toolbox over his back and searched the floor again, but found only damaged tools. No medicine. Adams's medical kit had most likely been sealed on the other side. Next, Rowan walked toward the nearest toad.

The toad that had been torn by the locust-octopus creature was completely dead. Half its body was wedged between the glass tank and the floor. The flower buds on its back had withered into wrinkled patches, and its pincer-eyes hung open weakly like a pair of rusted clamps. Rowan used a sample knife to cut open the lower part of its chest and abdomen. The knife was not sharp enough. The resistance was heavy when he cut in.

He had never dissected this mana-beast before, so he could only rely on the structures he had seen during the battle, avoiding the obvious poison sacs and spore glands. A few minutes later, he pulled a mana crystal less than half the size of a fist from a mass of gray-green tissue. Warm mucus still clung to its surface. Inside, a murky glow of mana could be faintly seen. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. D2-grade mana crystal.

Rowan wrapped it in a relatively clean strip of cloth and stuffed it into the innermost layer of the toolbox. The flower buds, claw-tongue, pincer-eyes, and subcutaneous poison glands on the toad should all be worth money. In a normal mission, Adams would test them, Syringe would number them, Logan would box them, and Solly would distribute the profit. Now there were no preservation boxes, no cryo bags, and no detection needles. Rowan looked at the materials, then stood up.

Things that could not be carried away were nothing but burdens, no matter how valuable they were. He had no chance to touch the other two toads. One was sealed on the other side. The other had been crushed under fallen pipelines, with only half a hind leg exposed. There were not many directions he could go inside the containment room. Only the maintenance passage Grey Raven had taken. Rowan stood before the passage entrance but did not enter immediately. The passage was narrow, half-blocked by broken pipelines.

There were no emergency lights inside, only a faint dark-yellow flicker from somewhere deeper in. Grey Raven had gone this way. Maybe he knew another exit. This was the only path Rowan had. He had no other choice. The passage was even narrower than the outside. Rowan had to turn sideways to move forward. Every time his left shoulder brushed against the wall, the pain left his arm numb. Underfoot was damp metal grating. Through the gaps, he could occasionally see cloudy liquid flowing slowly below.

Dense pipelines ran overhead, some still operating at low power with faint humming sounds. Rowan did not move quickly. Each step landed toe-first. Only after confirming the footing did he shift his weight down. He did not know how long ago Grey Raven had left. Nor did he know whether the locust-octopus creature would crawl out from some waste-fluid shaft. Without the local network, the incomplete map built by Syringe had been reduced to a few broken lines. After walking several dozen meters, Rowan stopped.

Ahead, beneath a cluster of pipelines, there was a faint blue glow. Not an emergency light. A group of Electric-Fungus Rats. They hung upside down between the pipelines and the seams in the wall, their bodies curled into balls. The fungal colonies on their backs pulsed faintly on and off, like a dozen clusters of blue embers about to die out. Several larger ones clung to the edge of a waste-fluid channel, their blood membranes folded against their ribs and trembling occasionally. They were dormant.

But Rowan felt as if they were hiding from something. From the other side of the passage came a deep breathing sound, muffled by the wall. He could not tell what it belonged to. The Electric-Fungus Rats did not go that way. Nor did they run back toward the containment room. They only huddled in the shadows of the pipes like a trapped clump of dirty fur. Rowan held his breath and slowly circled along the opposite wall. His foot stepped on a dried bone spike, making a tiny brittle crack.

The fungal colony on one Electric-Fungus Rat lit up for a moment. Rowan stopped. The rat did not wake. Its tail only twitched once before it shrank back behind the pipeline. Rowan waited for a long while before continuing. The maintenance passage sloped lower and lower. At one point, a stairway led downward. The steps were covered in mucus and rust, and half the handrail had snapped off. Rowan had only gone down a few steps when he heard an impact from the lower area to the front-right. Bang. Not an isolation gate.

Not a pipeline breaking on its own. It sounded more like a large body slamming into a metal wall. Immediately after came the short crackle of bursting flame. Rowan stopped halfway down the stairs. He did not rush closer. First, he turned off every glowing indicator line on the toolbox. Then he gently inserted one signal spike into the seam between the steps, keeping it inactive. Only after that did he move toward the sound. The lower space was much wider than the maintenance passage.

It looked like some kind of small manufacturing room. From behind a half-collapsed metal grate, Rowan could see only part of the area. The familiar black-robed figure appeared again. Grey Raven was here. He was fighting a monster. At first glance, the creature reminded Rowan of the locust-octopus from earlier. Its front half also had insect-like carapace, and its rear half dragged several tentacles. But this one was clearly more chaotic. A half-grown curved horn jutted from its left shoulder.

Several gill-like slits opened across its abdomen. A row of underdeveloped scales ran down its back. Extra thin claws grew from the roots of its tentacles, scratching wildly as it moved, as if even its own body did not know where to place its strength. It looked like a defective product. Every time Grey Raven's flame whip struck it, gray-red mucus oozed from the wound. It fought while breaking down, like a failed creation that refused to stop moving. Grey Raven did not clash with it head-on. He was leading it.

The flame whip struck the wall, forcing it to turn. Wind blades cut into its side limbs, knocking it off balance. His black robe swept across the ground, and his body slipped through the gaps between the monster's forelimbs. Rowan did not move. He was in no condition to join the fight. He only wanted to know why Grey Raven had come here. Soon, he saw the answer. At the rear of the manufacturing room stood a glass chamber. It was different from the preservation cabinets in the outer sample rooms.

It was thicker, with many old-style pipelines connected to its base. Around the chamber was a ring of silver-gray array lines that had already gone dark. Suspended inside the chamber was something. A sphere. Or something like a sphere. Its surface was covered in layers of closed scales. Each scale was thin as a blade, yet also like the shell membrane of some organism. Through the gaps between scales, fine dark red tissues could be seen tangled together.

Occasionally, a faint clicking sound came from within the sphere. As if it were breathing slowly. Grey Raven led the monster to the other side of the manufacturing room. The monster crashed into a row of abandoned fixing racks. Several metal arms fell from above and tangled around part of its tentacles. Grey Raven did not continue attacking. He turned and rushed toward the glass chamber. Rowan narrowed his eyes. Grey Raven had risked coming back for this thing.

That meant its value was definitely no lower than the original codex. This mission really was full of hidden motives. Grey Raven stabbed the separation needle into the base of the glass chamber. The chamber did not open immediately. He took out an old identification card and inserted it into the card slot of the nearby console. The console lit up several times, each flicker seeming close to dying out, before several broken lines of text finally appeared. [Maintenance authorization identifying...] [Authorization source: Blackwater Heavy Industries Seventh Abyssal Hive Maintenance Sequence.] [Historical parent protocol residue matched.] [Temporary access granted.] The glass chamber slowly rose. Grey Raven reached in and took out the scaled sphere. The instant the sphere left the suspension rack, every warning light in the manufacturing room turned red. [Core sample removed.] [Formal transfer authorization not detected.] [Isolation doors closing.] The gates on both sides of the manufacturing room began to descend. Grey Raven moved quickly. Almost without pause, he inserted the identification card deeper into the console with one hand, while pressing down on the edge of the card slot with the other. The failed chimera had already broken free from the fixing rack. Half its body had been torn open by the metal arms, but it still charged toward Grey Raven. Grey Raven turned his head and lashed out with the flame whip from his sleeve.

The whip struck the monster's forelimb and burned open a patch of blackened carapace, but failed to push it back far enough. The gill-like slits on the monster's abdomen opened wide. Gray-red mucus sprayed onto the ground. Extra thin claws scrambled out from the roots of its tentacles, as if its entire body was losing control and searching for new support points. Grey Raven's other hand was still pressed against the console. [Authorization conflict.] [Maintenance authorization insufficient.] The gates continued to fall. He cursed under his breath, too low for Rowan to hear clearly. The monster had already reached him. In that instant, Grey Raven's fingers moved. He simply pressed his thumb against the second joint of his ring finger, as if crushing an invisible cocoon. Rowan saw a gray-white shadow flash across the back of his hand. It looked like some kind of chrysalis. The next moment, the wounds across the failed chimera began to tremble. From within them squeezed pale little hands.

The hands had no complete bones, only translucent flesh membranes and tiny finger joints. They clawed madly at the monster itself. The monster froze. Its whole body looked as if it had been caught from the inside by countless invisible strings. It let out a confused wail. Its tentacles whipped wildly, and the front half still tried to lunge toward Grey Raven, but the things growing from its own flesh dragged the rear half backward, tearing it apart. A chill crept up Rowan's back. That did not look like a spell.

What the hell was that? [Historical parent protocol residue matched.] [Maintenance bypass authorization granted.] [Isolation suspended.] The descending gates stopped, then slowly rose again. Only then did Grey Raven release the console. He walked to the failed chimera, which had already been pinned down by its own flesh. The separation needle extended from his sleeve and stabbed into a precise point on its head. The monster twitched a few times and stopped moving completely.

The manufacturing room fell quiet again. Rowan looked at the scaled sphere in Grey Raven's hand, then at the corpse on the floor, torn apart by its own flesh. The console suddenly flashed. [Sub-terminal back-link...] Grey Raven raised his head.

"Syringe?" His voice was not loud. No one in the manufacturing room answered. Grey Raven stared at the console for two seconds. Then, as if realizing something, he slowly turned around. Rowan's fingers pressed against the edge of the toolbox. He had clearly turned off all outer indicator lines, but a tiny rune on the side of the toolbox still flickered once. Grey Raven placed the scaled sphere into a preservation box.

"Not Syringe." Rowan did not move. Grey Raven looked toward the half-collapsed metal grate.

"Come out." The manufacturing room was silent for a moment. Rowan knew there was no point hiding anymore. Grey Raven had already confirmed someone was there. Staying behind the grate would only trap him in a place with no room to dodge. Rowan supported himself against the wall and stepped out from behind the half-collapsed metal grate.

"I heard something down here," Rowan said.

"I thought there might be an exit." Grey Raven looked at him. A corner of his black robe was torn, revealing dark armor beneath. The shadow of his hood hid his face, leaving only the line of his lower jaw visible. His gaze first fell on the toolbox on Rowan's back. Grey Raven said flatly, "An old Blackwater Heavy Industries maintenance kit. Once the local network goes down, it automatically tries to back-link with nearby Blackwater maintenance equipment." Rowan's fingers tightened slightly at his side.

Grey Raven took one step forward.

"The road was sealed," Rowan continued.

"I'm looking for an exit." Grey Raven did not answer immediately. He wiped a bit of mucus from the edge of the preservation box, his movements light.

"The exit isn't here." Rowan looked at the preservation box in his hand.

"Then I took the wrong path."

"You did." Grey Raven fastened the preservation box.

"But you saw it." Rowan did not ask, "Saw what?" Asking that would only make the lie worse. Grey Raven also did not explain what the scaled sphere was. Rowan slowly mobilized his Mental Power and pressed it toward his Source Crystal Core. Grey Raven raised his right hand, as if about to adjust the clasp on the preservation box. Rowan's gaze did not follow the box. He stared at Grey Raven's fingers. The next instant, that hand turned in midair. A thin card slipped out between his fingers.

Dense red patterns were engraved across its surface, and its edges were already heating up. Rowan fixed his eyes on it. A spell card? Bad. Rowan's foot moved sharply. At the same time, Grey Raven released his fingers. The card burned in midair. Countless sparks burst from it, like a handful of falling stars being poured out, instantly filling the narrow passage of the manufacturing room.