The Celestine Incident - Ship One (3)

Mezlen would one day become a renowned Outer God biologist. Although Maxwell’s legions were swarms of steel monstrosities, their fundamental framework still resembled organic life. They didn’t multiply infinitely like Darwin’s hordes, but they possessed the same strengths and weaknesses of any living creature. Mezlen knew every trait, habit, and vulnerability of spiders. Because she knew them so well, she could thrust her plasma sword straight into Lüzlaktia’s spinneret without hesitation.

Watching the avatar let out that vulgar groan, I became certain. Lüzlaktia’s core was unmistakably located in her spinneret—the silk gland. As if to prove my hypothesis, a status window appeared.

Thwack! The sound of eyeballs bursting. Two of Lüzlaktia’s eight eyes couldn’t withstand the pressure and melted like honey, dripping down. Thick, tar-like black fluid oozed out in streams.

A heavy mechanical roar shook the hull. The overwhelming pressure was suffocating. Mezlen let out a hiccup and hurriedly hid herself. Her small stature let her slip into the crowd in an instant. Not that Lüzlaktia could chase her even if she wanted to. The avatar had already taken a fatal blow, and the EX-rank swordsmen were keeping her pinned down.

Her stamina must have been drained. All eight legs twitched uselessly, unable to move properly. “Cut off her legs!” the swordsmen shouted, slashing at the avatar’s limbs. Lüzlaktia blocked them with threads—her final, desperate effort, weaving diamond-hard silk. Then something unexpected happened.

She stared straight at me.

Those words marked the end. The avatar’s own death. In exchange, she scattered an enormous amount of phoron. She would become death itself—the destroyer of this ship.

Thwack! The remaining four eyes burst. Her face, forearms, and eight legs began to melt and collapse. A final attack fueled by burning her own life force.

Creak—! Copper wires stretched taut across the entire ship, forming an inescapable web. By sacrificing herself, she turned every metallic component on the vessel into a weapon.

“Everyone, get back!” The swordsmen, sensing danger, widened the distance. An avatar’s suicide was extremely rare. Even seasoned veterans would be thrown off. In any case, there was only one way to stop this rampage.

I had to extract the core before the skill went off. “Ha.” By the time I came to my senses, my body was already moving ahead of my thoughts. A life-or-death gamble. Adrenaline surged through my brain. Removing Lüzlaktia’s core was like defusing a live bomb. Every survival instinct engraved in my bones screamed at me to run. But I had to stop her. If anyone could do it, it was me.

I circled around to the avatar’s blind spot as she died and drove the caliper straight into her spinneret.

Click. Something solid touched my fingers. The core.

The swordsmen earned coins, while I received phoron. Since I had luckily landed the final blow, my earnings were several times higher than expected. Not bad at all.

“Should I invest in stamina?”

“Muscle strength wouldn’t be bad either.”

I listened to the swordsmen chatting while they cleaned up the battlefield. I wished I could raise my physical stats like them. Unfortunately, phoron could only affect the mind.

The rewards weren’t over yet.

“Here is the avatar’s core.” I handed over the nucleus I had pulled from Lüzlaktia’s spinneret to the centurion.

“It’s quite large. Well done, student. We’ll take custody of this.”

“Will you be sending it to a lab?”

“It’s nothing more than a trophy to us. Why carry around something so unpleasant?” The centurion laughed heartily. His gaze toward me was unusual. Before he could say anything else, I pulled out a note.

“If you’re sending it to a research institute, please use this address. It’s routed through the Stellarium Physics Department lab.”

“I appreciate the offer, but we have procedures to follow. If we don’t report it to the nation, we could be charged with embezzlement.”

“Stellarium is a national institution as well.”

“Student, you’ve got a sharp mind.” The email address I gave him belonged to Professor Feynman. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but routing it through ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠him would greatly shorten the time needed to analyze the material properties. The more avatar cores we had and the faster they were analyzed, the more it would help with graviton bomb research. If we learned how to destroy the inner shell of the core, the destructive power of the warhead that could reach a black hole would increase accordingly.

After a brief moment of thought, the centurion accepted my note.

“Anyway, the casualty count is finished. You did well, student. May I ask your name?”

“It’s Idel.”

“I see. Idel, my name is Lucardo. Your ability is truly outstanding. That tool in your hand seems to possess a special power. Did your Constellation bestow it upon you?”

Lucardo pointed at my caliper. I answered briefly that he was correct. Lucardo spoke with admiration.

“It has a fascinating shape. It seems to carry a special power effective against avatars as well.”

“You knew?”

“After eating sword rice for so many years, how could I not? By the way, you appear to be deeply loved by a rather high-ranking Constellation.”

“What do you mean?”

“Weapons like that aren’t given out easily. You need sufficient communion with your Constellation. At minimum, trust, acceptance, and love are required. It’s practically a gift only given to those who share a bond as close as sworn brothers or married couples.”

That backstory was surprisingly well-crafted. Still, I had only met Cartesia a short while ago and already received this. It seemed the rules didn’t apply to Outer Gods.

“Student Idel.” Lucardo looked at me with a strange glint in his eyes. “Have you ever considered joining the military?”

“Graduate school makes that difficult.”

Lucardo’s face crumpled. What? I didn’t think I’d said anything offensive. He gave a bitter smile.

“Ah, I see. Then take care. The orbital elevator has been repaired, so head down to the lobby with your friends. We’ll check the ship for anomalies and join you shortly.”

“Thank you for your consideration.”

I gave the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soldier a polite farewell and boarded the elevator. With that, the commotion on the first floor was over. But it wasn’t truly finished. Ships Two, Three, and Four still remained. We had to thoroughly eliminate the avatars that would appear there—whether I killed them or someone else did. The condition didn’t seem to matter.

While I was lost in thought, Welton poked my shoulder.

“Christine should’ve seen that.”

“Why?”

“She’s always calling you a privileged bastard or whatever. This should prove you didn’t get in through connections, right? Real skill can’t be hidden.”

I let out a sigh. Welton was joking, but he still hadn’t fully relaxed. Encountering an avatar without any Constellation protection was a horrific memory for any ordinary person.

“By the way, just who the hell are you?” Welton asked. He was probably summing up all the bizarre things I’d done since the reallocation exam. If the answer was difficult, I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠just laugh it off. Instead, I changed the subject.

“Worry about Christine first.”

“I am.” Welton’s face twisted. Christine had been rushed to the emergency room. Since her life or death was uncertain, everyone had no choice but to pray—whether there was a god or not.

“She’s a pretty good kid. It’d be such a waste if she died like this. She still has a year and a half before graduation.”

I lowered my head at those words. Mezlen, leaning against the opposite wall, let out shaky sighs. It didn’t seem like the right time to talk to her. Not just her—everyone was exhausted and staying quiet. I, too, kept my mouth shut unless asked, busy organizing my thoughts.

I could hear Matus and James talking.

“I heard the other ships are in chaos too. All communications are down. We somehow survived, but I’m worried about the students over there.”

“What can you do? The ones who live will live, and the ones who die will die.”

Matus’s replies were consistently curt, his tone laced with irritation. But looking at his face, you could tell his emotions were swirling violently.

“Kids, we’re at the first floor. Let’s go down.”

The EX-rank swordsman escorting us, Enavet, spoke up. Only then did the students, who had been silent, slowly regain some color in their faces.

What awaited us when we returned to the mother ship was—

“Wh-what the hell is this?”

Flickering, broken lights. Irregularly splattered fluids. The metallic stench of blood mixed with a cold, damp odor. Human limbs lay scattered everywhere. Irregularly embedded pillars had destroyed the original space. Around them, ownerless eyeballs rolled like balls.

“Fuck…” Matus spat.

“What the hell is this nightmare landscape?”

“Ah… aah…”

Thud. Female students lost strength in their legs and collapsed. Mezlen covered her mouth, tears welling up.

“N-no…”

It was a scene of utter desolation.

I’d been caught off guard. Clicking my tongue, I was the first to step out of the elevator. Enavet, who had been standing there stunned, finally drew her sword and moved. I asked her,

“Were there no EX-rank swordsmen in the lobby?”

“There were. About one squad.”

“Then how does this make sense? Shouldn’t EX-ranks be able to hold out against an avatar to some degree?”

“Just a moment…”

Her wandering eyes suddenly stopped at a certain spot in response to my questioning. Only then did I sense that something was terribly wrong. The swordsmen’s corpses were nowhere to be seen.