It’s almost too easy to make it to the next floor. Suspiciously so. That’s the thought I have as we stand here in the floor antechamber, mentally resting before another set of hallways we’ll have to navigate, all while avoiding a bioweapon we don’t have a snowball’s chance in the nine hells of surviving.

An errant thought crosses my mind. Are these considered different ‘floors’ in the sense of ascending the fifty-floor Tower Gauntlet, or are they all part of the same, just different sections therein? As much as I want to suspect the latter, just because it would be the way to most screw us over, I think it’s actually the former. There was a vague theme with the previous set of floors, namely fights with projections of fighters summoned from other worlds.

This time around, the theme is genetic experimentation. Magitech. An experiment gone horribly, horribly wrong. Or, from another perspective, horribly, horribly right. A future that lies ahead for mankind, ever stronger enemies, and this world’s failed last attempt to try to keep up, even knowing the perils that they ultimately faced.

We are much earlier in our integration than they were. They were five millennia removed from integration, assuming the ‘A.I.’ designation carries the same meaning in this world— After Integration— as it did in my previous life. We are a mere four months from the same.

Perhaps this is meant as a warning, a subtle threat for what would happen if humanity does not continue the path of strength. A reminder that if we and the other champions fail in our duty to grow stronger and overcome the hardier foes that the System will send over the coming weeks and months and years.

Not that I need one. Not after that mental reminder of why I’m doing all this in the first place. Adventuring with Chloe, to get stronger, to gain my freedom, to learn more about myself. And yeah, because I’ve become more than a bit of a battle junkie. Saving the universe is just the cherry on the ice cream sundae.

I show Alexey my sketchbook, the logs translated from the glyph language into English. At the same time, I relay the information to Chloe telepathically, including all the information that Alexey doesn’t need to know about my past life, the parallels between Operation Bioweapon and Project Seraphina, and my conjectures about genetic engineering being used to endow me with the artificial power known as 「The Anomaly」.

“So.” Chloe trails off for a half second. “You think the two are related?”

“We know that, whether this is a case of branching timelines or distinct universes, this isn’t the first time the System has been present in a universe. I doubt it’s the second or third either. As such, we don’t know that Operation Bioweapon and Project Seraphina took place in the same continuity,”— here I use the term ‘continuity’ to encompass the possibility of either distinct timelines or universes— “let alone whether the researchers of Dr. Chotono’s lab would have known of this operation. But if the rules of the System work the same in all continuities, then science would likely develop along similar trajectories in all of them.”

“But from what I understand, Operation Bioweapon was purely organic, while you were more akin to a cyborg… I suppose you still are, in a sense.”

“I have to imagine there was a reason why they did that. Maybe the protein folding problem proved too difficult even with their technology? Maybe they were afraid that I might go berserk and let my power go to my head, and designed a failsafe somewhere in the mechanical components.”

“Or… You had told me before that you were originally a being kept hidden from the System. Maybe your original self’s creators couldn’t do that with a fully organic creation. It would be, by definition, alive, and the System would integrate it just like everything else.”

I nod. “There is one other factor at play. Alana had mentioned something during the trip here with her and Jasmine. She thinks there’s some Entity beyond the System that is influencing the events here. I don’t know for sure, but I think she’s right. And I think the Entity is opposed to the System. It wants us to know about this experiment. Whether to guide us or warn us, I don’t know, but I assume that this Entity, like the System, is purposeful.”

“Then we shouldn’t change our plans. Whatever will happen will happen, and in the meantime, we focus on gathering more information and strength so we’ll be ready when the time is right.”

I nod. As Chloe and I finish our mental conversation, Alexey hands my sketchbook back to me.

“I do not know what to make of much of this,” he says, still in an almost-whisper despite the relative safety of this cloistered zone. “Experiments, genetic engineering, monster modification. They mean little to me, except that this creature is dangerous and not to be taken lightly.”

“How did you deal with it as a soldier? Having to retreat in the face of an unwinnable fight? Being ordered into a mission that was considered suicidal? Leaving behind objectives, knowing that doing so would lead to the lives of civilians?”

“It is always painful, being unable to save a comrade’s life. Seventeen of my men I’ve watched be buried in the twenty-two years I served before the System’s arrival. Seventeen grieving families. Seventeen brave men and women who paid the ultimate price in the pursuit of our mission.

“At the time, I coped by telling myself that they were saving more lives in the process, even though a part of me knew it was a lie. Now, however, I know that every soldier who dies against these monsters does so as a hero, defending humanity against invaders from another world. It does not take away from their deaths, but it makes it a little easier to accept.”

I nod in understanding, remembering that there hasn’t been a wide scale uprising here like there was with the Order of the Wilds back in Red Clay City a month and a half ago. The soldier-adventurers fighting alongside Stefan who perished. And the rank and file cultists. Even now, I still don’t fully know who was in the right and who was in the wrong. In the end, the only thing that mattered was that I had the power to decide who lived and who died, and I made my choice. Likely not ‘fair’, but no less true because of it.

With our [Ether] somewhat recovered and all of us having had a chance to get a bit more water in our systems, I open the door into the next hallway. If the first floor was a residential complex and the second was the research lab, then this appears to be some sort of server farm or other central information hub for the entire station. So much data. So many logs and glyphs and information, present, ripe for the taking. Oh, woe that I don’t have a month, a year, a decade to download and dissect it all. If I could only learn a single percent of the information contained therein, I’d be able to advance Ethertech by a century!

Alas, the rumble not so far away is a stark reminder that we’ve not the time to properly dissect all the station’s databases. Even taking a few moments to get the most important information is probably too long. Definitely too long, I swiftly correct, as the low growl of the prowling juggernaut echoes through the central room.

I freeze. Think, Seraphina. How do we survive this? No other rooms to sneak into. Flying is out of the question. Its speed might not be impressive for Level 160 standards, but its [Vitality] will be several leagues beyond even Alexey’s. Even mine, with [Seraphina Overlimit] active. No, we have to remain stealthy. Stay hidden. Avoid being seen or smelled or…

Heat. That was what the log said. The Ultimate Weapon’s sensory perception is at least partially heat-based. And server farms generate a lot of heat; this central processing structure is no exception.. I can feel the hot air blowing from one of the compounds. I can make use of this. Just need to figure out how.

I channel a glyph of inverted [Heat], imbuing it with a small amount of my [Ether]. Enough to simulate a cool autumn day. Wick away the heat our bodies are naturally generating, maybe even disperse our scent. It was originally at least partially canine in nature, and I know enough biology to know that a dog’s sense of smell is orders of magnitude above those of humans.

It lurches down the adjacent hallway, my [Archangel’s Gaze] again proving how potent it is with my ability to guide us around our foe’s perception range. It moves slowly, menacingly, content to act as a persistence predator, wearing us down until it eventually sees and then destroys us. In that sense, we are fortunate. Having been given such overwhelming power and not having faced a real challenge, its battle senses have dulled, giving us a chance of survival. Not a great chance, but enough of one to plan around.

I raise a wall of ice with the corresponding glyph, creating a translucent barrier in front of us. At the very least, when the Ultimate Weapon turns around and faces us, we might have an instant or two of time to disperse or run or… maybe even try to launch a surprise attack, as foolish as that particular idea seems.

It walks to the very end of the rack of servers and compute units, before turning around, stamping down the hallway where the three of us are waiting, protected by only a simple wall of ice and a wisp of [Darkness] to try to conceal our physical presence. Chloe shudders behind me, worried that this is going to be the end. If it is— not impossible— then we’ll not go down without a fight. But I don’t think it is. The Tower, the System, and the Entity— if indeed Alana’s hypothesis is correct— none of them want us dead.

Maybe the System does, eventually, but it has never been unfair about things. It has given us challenges in consideration of our abilities. The imps and rats and spiders starting out. The saurians a few weeks after its arrival. The City Slayers from a few weeks ago. They have been just that— challenges. Death sentences for some, who failed to rise to the challenge. And yes, that means that some cities— full of innocents— are no more.

The System is malevolent, and I am convinced that my goals of destroying it are just. But its motivations, now as it always has been, seem to be in forcing us to get stronger, to gain Experience and levels. Maybe, to force us to shape our society around it and the power it grants, like some sort of universal parasite that, during its incubation period, masks itself as a symbiote.

Throwing us into a fight with a creature a hundred levels above us, one we cannot win, seems antithetical to everything I understand to be true.

What am I missing?

The answer to my question comes, and I’m nearly floored from the revelation. As soon as it turns and looks down the hallway, it cowers. It takes one step backward, shivering, staring at us. It’s… it’s scared of us? Or is it scared of the weak [Darkness] spell I’ve cast upon it?

How can that be? It was a predator. It ate and consumed and killed indiscriminately, forcing the researchers and staff and everyone else on board this station to choose between a quick death in its maw and the slow death of a cage. And yet, against the three of us, not one of us over Level 55, over a hundred levels beneath it, it’s acting like a mewling kitten before a lion?

No. That’s not it. It’s not scared of us. Not as much, in so many words. But this isn’t a particularly intelligent creature. Like most animals, with the great apes, dolphins, and a few others as notable exceptions, the Ultimate Weapon doesn’t understand the concept of mirrors and self-reflection. The ice wall I erected earlier would shatter if the bioweapon poked it with a tiny fraction of its true strength. But it won’t, because, despite the objective reality, right now, the creature sees another distorted copy of itself, reflected and refracted through the glittering mirrored surface.

And this? This is a weakness I can exploit.