Chapter 68
Chapter 68
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 68
Chapter Title: Whispers from the Void
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“Save us...”
“Save us............”
“Come quickly... come save us—!”
Like endless wraiths from the abyss, those piteous wails spiraled up from the unfathomable depths of the elevator shaft. Celia glanced down at his feet and instantly felt as if an invisible gray mist had shrouded everything!
“Gavin—”
Before the Gryphon’s panicked voice could finish, Celia seized it, severing the mental link they’d never broken since the start. In that instant, he fully dispersed his senses!
The cramped metal space was instantly filled with silent yet hair-raising screams: “Save us! Whoever you are, please save us—!”
Like lightning splitting the night, countless images surged in Celia’s mind:
He stood on the command deck of a starship, the control console crowded with excited researchers. The hall echoed with the countdown for the interstellar electromagnetic cannon test. In thirty seconds, this unprecedented massive cannon would drag a long, brilliant tail of light across space like a meteor.
The young Alliance commander lowered his eyes, suddenly feeling a faint breeze brush past his ear, followed by a distant voice gradually rising: “Is anyone there? Can anyone hear us?”
“Please hear us!”
“Stop it quickly... stop all of this!”
“Please hear us—!”
Celia jerked his head up: “Who are you?”
“Marshal?” Everyone around turned in surprise. At the same time, a researcher ahead abruptly stood, pointing at the monitor in shock: “What’s that by the Marshal? There’s mist!”
“Unknown electromagnetic waves! Pull the Marshal back!”
Guard Captain Heinrich lunged forward in one arrow-step, but before he could act, Celia waved him off. Closing his eyes, he focused his mind, and the helpless cries in the wind instantly sharpened: “We are the Voidstar people. We exist in the form of electromagnetic waves!”
“Stop the missile launch! The electromagnetic interference will kill us!”
“Please, human commander! Only you can hear us! Please!”
—Celia’s face changed in an instant.
“Fourteen, thirteen, twelve... nine, eight, seven, six...” The countdown blared louder in the hall as missile experts stared at the screens. A blinding white light flashed at the cannon muzzle outside the ship. Just as the missile was about to fire, Celia’s eyes snapped open with a roar: “—Stop!”
“M-Marshall?!”
Everyone was stunned. In that thousandth-of-a-second crisis, Celia drew his gun and shattered the green launch button on the console dozens of meters away: “I said stop! Abort the launch, now!”
With a massive bang, the chief engineer dove forward instinctively, slamming the power throttle to the bottom!
“Three, two, one—launch sequence aborted. Warning, warning, launch sequence aborted...”
Red lights flashed in the hall as the missile halted at the last second inside the barrel. Everyone was still reeling, the chief engineer clutching the throttle as he turned, gasping toward the Alliance commander.
The room fell deathly quiet. Under all those eyes, Celia exhaled:
“Sorry, I just detected anomalies in the nearby magnetic field. Have the Academy investigate and submit a report... Resume the missile test. Notify the fleet to jump one light-year out and proceed with the bombardment.”
No one knew that as he spoke, the Voidstar people gathered into a gentle breeze, brushing silently past the Alliance commander’s ear:
“Thank you, human commander!”
“The Voidstar owes you a debt. We’ll meet again!”
·
The memory vanished abruptly. Celia snapped back to reality, feeling a whirlwind whip up without warning inside the elevator:
“Please! Human Marshal! Please hear us!”
“Save us quickly—the Dark Star Hall is coming to kill us!”
“...Voidstar people?” Celia extracted the key term from the flash of memory: “We’ve met before?”
A flurry of tiny, fragmented voices rose in the wind—likely the Voidstar people chattering among themselves in their unique frequency. Seconds later, they all cried out in a cacophony: “Yes, you saved us! You came to Voidstar asking for our help, but a traitor emerged among us!”
“The Dark Star Hall captured us in a counter-field, forcing us to hand over your legacy!”
“But your legacy has already returned to Voidstar. If we stay confined, we’ll die in the counter-field!”
...
Communicating with the Voidstar people was exhausting; they blended and fused as electromagnetic waves, their chatter a chaotic mess. Celia cut them off decisively: “Wait—back then, it was ‘me’ who came to you? I might just be a soul-refraction duplicate...”
“Soul refraction can’t be duplicated!” the Voidstar people shrilled. “Yes, it was you who came to us!”
Celia paused, a complex feeling rising unspeakably from his heart.
So the experiment on Redsoil Star had succeeded after all, and I truly am...
But what was this so-called legacy? Why had it “already returned to Voidstar”? And why had Yunis captured the Voidstar people—
“Please help us destroy the counter-field!” Perhaps as the elevator neared the 250th floor, the counter-field’s power intensified, their voices turning shrill and desperate: “If you want your legacy, come to Voidstar—but beware Yunis!”
“My...”
“You must come to Voidstar! Be extremely careful of Yunis! The Dark Star Hall is about to head to Ophiuchus—”
Ding!
The number above the elevator locked at 250. An intensely uncomfortable aura suddenly blanketed the small metal space. Static crackled in the air, and the Voidstar people’s voices vanished abruptly.
“...Counter-field,” Celia murmured.
He scooped up the Gryphon, which morphed into a gauntlet. He sprang up, flattening his body against the elevator ceiling like a thin sheet of paper. At the same time, the doors slid open. Beyond was a short corridor; at its end, a Dark Star apprentice on patrol turned at the sound, puzzled at the empty elevator.
“Who’s there?”
Silence all around.
“Who’s there?”
The apprentice grew wary, raising his gun and edging toward the elevator. The quiet was broken only by his breathing—until the instant his foot crossed the threshold. A gale whistled from above as Celia dropped from the ceiling, knees clamping the apprentice’s head. With a sharp twist of his waist, he slammed the man face-down!
“Mmph—”
The apprentice couldn’t even cry out before Celia shoved him out of the elevator, pinned him against the wall, wrenched his right shoulder with a savage yank, and clamped his mouth like iron pliers: “Don’t scream! Or you die!”
Lightning agony shot through his nerves. Sweat poured down the apprentice’s face as he could only manage muffled whimpers.
“Where’s Barnett?”
“Mmph mmph mmph...”
Celia eased his grip slightly—only for the apprentice to yell: “Come qui—mmph!”
Crack! His left shoulder snapped cleanly too. The pain buckled him to the floor, trembling helplessly. Celia picked up the dropped gun, pressing it to the man’s temple: “For being just an apprentice, I won’t kill you... Where’s Barnett? Where’s the field control room?”
The apprentice shook like a leaf, eyes pleading with fear. Celia watched silently for a moment before loosening his hand over the mouth. Sure enough, the man rasped shakily: “Zone 3B—Lord Barnett’s in 3B—”
“And the field control room?”
“I don’t know, I really don’t...”
Celia’s hand twitched. The apprentice screamed in collapse: “Don’t kill me, I’ve told you everythi—”
Clang! The gun butt smashed into the back of his skull, knocking him out cold.
“Gryphon, scan 3B.”
The perceptive little AI didn’t need a second order. It projected the shortest path to the target in midair, then puzzled: “Huh? Wait—why’s 3B crawling with so many people...”
They appeared as green heat signatures in the hologram. Celia glanced once, stripped the apprentice’s black robe, threw it on, grabbed the gun, and advanced.
The entire 250th floor was a labyrinth of twisting paths, most walls makeshift electromagnetic panels—clearly slapped together in haste. These formed the counter-field, heavily jamming the Gryphon’s scans. Celia narrowly dodged several Dark Star apprentices on patrol, his disguise saving him each time.
Soon, a sign for 3B appeared on the wall. Celia hugged the wall, peering silently around the corner—his pupils dilating slightly.
Curled in the shadows beyond was a figure.
A naked youth, his honeyed skin gleaming under the lights, too alluring to stare at directly. His head hung low, bangs hiding most of his face.
But Celia recognized him instantly—that was himself!
The version from right after waking on Redsoil Star, before gene correction!
Celia’s brow furrowed deeply. Stepping forward from the corner, his expression twisted into undisguised revulsion and disgust—the test subject’s torso was a patchwork of bruises, legs splayed wide, lower body bearing signs of violation. Barnett must have done unspeakable things here before casually discarding it like a used sex toy!
“This pervert...” Celia muttered. Then he heard the Gryphon cautiously: “Uh, Gavin?”
“What?”
“I’ve got an incoming comm request... from Bianka...”
“Accept.”
This was the first comm the Gryphon had received from another Imperial mech since “joining humanity”—like a traitor in exile suddenly getting a call from his home country’s president. Trembling with nerves, it connected the video. Surprisingly, Heinrich’s voice burst through, thick with uncontainable excitement: “Gavin, I—”
The voice cut off. Heinrich stared blankly at the youth onscreen.
“...You’ve got the wrong idea.” Celia yanked the Gryphon toward him: “It’s not what you think.”
“No, you’re right there now—”
The voice cut off again. Heinrich stared blankly at the adult Celia.
“...That part’s not wrong.” Celia touched his face: “—Gene correction agent.”
Heinrich’s mind flooded with lurid scenes. His trembling hand pointed back and forth between Celia and the test subject, mouth working silently before he rasped: “You—you—you two—”
“Watched too much porn, huh?” Celia teased. “Barnett’s handiwork.”
Heinrich, lost in his fantasies, took a moment to place Barnett—the one who’d invaded the Royal Academy with Osroed during the mech tournament, repelled by Bianka and Phoenix. That cannon fodder had survived—and dared assault Celia’s test subject duplicate!
Rage boiled in Heinrich: “Where are you now? What the hell’s going on?!”
Celia crept forward carefully, briefing him swiftly. The Emperor, political genius that he was, caught on instantly: “You’re planning to assassinate him on Parliament turf to spark conflict between Dark Star Hall and Parliament?”
“Not just that. Barnett’s in Osroed’s faction, and Osroed and Yunis have been at each other’s throats over power, full of mutual suspicion.”
The Emperor shook his head: “But your plan’s too rushed. You can’t avoid leaving traces—probably not enough to make Osroed turn outright hostile to Yunis.”
Celia slipped along the corridor. At its end, two half-open bedroom doors leaked soft, luxurious light and sounds. He fixed on the gap, lips curling in a cold smile: “No, Osroed doesn’t care about traces. He just lacks an excuse... Yunis sees the big picture; Osroed’s just a shortsighted fool chasing petty gains.”
Then—creak—the bedroom door swung open. Two identical test subjects emerged.
The Gryphon hovered by Celia’s ear, camera trained on the door—so Heinrich saw the blood-boiling scene too: The pair dragged another test subject, limp and boneless on the floor, clearly ravaged and beaten savagely!
“Barnett—!” Heinrich shot to his feet, eyes blazing fury: “I swear I’ll—I’ll—!”
“Didn’t know you loved blow-up dolls that much.” Celia quipped, lunging to hook one as they passed.
Test subjects lacked souls, moved only by mental commands. Hooked, this one continued numbly dragging its companion forward. Celia ignored it, locking eyes with his captive, pushing his mental threshold to the limit—
Like linking a mech’s virtual nerve plug, the subject twitched, meeting his gaze.
Celia’s brow twitched faintly: Human brains made mental plugs far more complex than mechs—even for him, it strained.
But the subject obediently extended a hand. Celia exhaled, transforming Bianka into a tiny light dagger and placing it there.
The subject turned, pausing as conflicting commands warred internally. Moments later, Celia’s won out. It shuffled toward the bedroom door, dragging its feet like before.
No one spoke in the corridor. Only the subject’s footsteps echoed, the air taut as a wire. After ten seconds, it stood at the open door, raising the light dagger.
Inside, Barnett lounged in luxury, oblivious to the zombie-like doll drawing a blade on him—
In that instant, the dagger auto-focused. The subject slashed down, a blue fan of electromagnetic light whooshing toward Barnett!
Everything happened in one second, too fast for the eye—
As the blue light arced, Barnett vaulted from the bed like a massive raptor: “Who—?!”
Boom! He kicked the subject down, snapping its neck with a palm strike!
Blood gushed from the stump. Barnett snatched the dagger, peering—then froze: “Mech?!”
At the corridor’s end, Celia snapped his hand up, roaring just before Barnett could hurl it: “Gryphon—!”
Too late, even for Barnett’s reflexes. The five-dimensional alloy warped; Gryphon became a half-meter barbed blade—thunk!—impaling his own throat from his grip!
Thud. Barnett crumpled to his knees, eyes locked on the figure at the end: “Ce... Celia...”
Celia beckoned. Gryphon morphed into an army knife and flew back.
“You... you really...”
Blood surged with every word, but Celia watched coldly as Barnett choked out his last and crashed dead.
“What was that?” “What’s the noise?” Footsteps echoed from the maze depths—patrol apprentices alerted. Celia scanned wildly: endless branching corridors everywhere, impossible to track their approach.
At the last second, Gryphon jabbed its blade-tip toward two o’clock: “That way!”
Celia bolted down the passage. Steps later, it split into four forks. As Gryphon scanned escape routes frantically, pounding feet rang from a fork—then a black shadow burst out!
Slow in telling, fast in action—the ambusher slashed down mid-leap. Celia whipped his blade up to parry—
Clang!
The metallic screech hurt the ears. Celia locked eyes on the apprentice’s face, surprise finally cracking his composure:
“—Claire?”