Awakening a 10,000x Skill Proficiency Multiplier in the Apocalypse

The underground bunker of Outpost Rust smelled like burnt copper, stale synthetic coffee, and pure, unfiltered anxiety.

Corbin was an absolute blur of greasy overalls and frantic motion. The rogue code-smith was practically vibrating as he darted between the massive, humming server banks and the heavily modified arcane soldering station. Sparks showered the concrete floor like miniature fireworks. He was currently elbow-deep in the gutted remains of the Vanguard Syndicate’s biometric scanners, splicing the stolen corporate tech with the raw, reality-bending power of the Juncture.

”Hold the damn light steady, Seattle!” Corbin shrieked, his voice cracking. ”If I cross the localized mana-conduits with the Anomaly’s base file, we are going to turn this entire room into a radioactive crater!”

Gwen stood next to him, holding a high-powered tactical flashlight. She looked

completely exhausted. She rested her other hand on the grip of her kinetic

pistol, her eyes darting nervously toward the reinforced blast doors.

”I am holding it steady, you twitchy little freak,” Gwen snapped back. ”Just

hurry up. We have a three-planet bounty on our heads. Every Warlord with a

spaceship and half a brain is currently mapping coordinates to this sector. We

need to leave.”

Sebastian sat on the ruined leather couch in the center of the room. He looked

like the physical embodiment of a bad Monday morning. His black leather coat was

scorched and torn, and he was currently rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying

to ward off a massive migraine.

”They aren’t going to breach the doors,” Sebastian muttered, his voice carrying

that strange, metallic resonance. ”I inverted the gravity in the hallway

outside. If anyone tries to walk down here, they’re going to fall up into a

ceiling of rusted iron spikes. We have time. Do it right, Corbin.”

”I am doing it right! I am doing it perfectly!” Corbin yelled, violently

slamming a glowing green crystal into a heavy iron bracer.

BZZZT!

A blinding flash of emerald light illuminated the bunker. The heavy servers

whined, the cooling fans kicking into maximum overdrive as they processed the

sheer, ungodly amount of data Corbin had just forced into a single piece of

hardware.

”Done!” Corbin gasped, collapsing backward onto the concrete floor. He wiped a

thick smear of black grease across his forehead and pointed a shaking finger at

the table. ”The integration is complete. I synced the Ethereal Plane UI with the

raw administrative bypass.”

Sebastian stood up. His heavy boots thudded against the floor. He walked over to

the workbench and looked down at his left arm. The metallic bracer was now fused

directly to the green runes of his [Code Compiler].

”Let’s see what we unlocked,” Sebastian whispered.

He didn’t cast a spell. He just mentally accessed his administrative interface.

BING!

The system didn’t fight him this time. The glowing green and blue hybrid UI

expanded in his vision, clear, crisp, and completely free of Void Toxicity

errors.

[System Administrator Status: CONFIRMED.] [Updating Localized UI...] [New

Modules Unlocked.]

Sebastian scrolled past his physical stats. He didn’t care about his Level 60

cap right now. He didn’t care about his ridiculous strength or his [Concept of

Mass]. His silver-tinged eyes immediately locked onto the very bottom of the

menu.

There it was. The tool he needed to save Valerie.

[Module: Law Synthesis] [Status: Locked] [Requirement to synthesize Conceptual

Law: 10,000,000 Units of Raw Source Code.]

Sebastian stared at the glowing text. He read the numbers again, making sure his

heavily optimized brain wasn’t misinterpreting the zeroes.

”Ten million,” Sebastian said, his voice entirely flat. ”It wants ten million

units.”

Wraith materialized from the deep shadows in the corner of the room. The

Level 25 Assassin had been standing guard in complete silence. He stepped

forward, his dark mask betraying absolutely no emotion, though his posture was

tense.

”Boss,” Wraith rasped softly. ”Ten million units of Source Code... that isn’t

something you can just farm from Void Crawlers. Source Code is the foundational

data of a world. It’s the beating heart of a server.”

”I know,” Sebastian replied coldly.

”What does it mean?” Gwen asked, lowering the flashlight. She looked between the

Assassin and the Demigod. ”What is a Law Synthesis?”

Sebastian leaned against the workbench. He crossed his arms, his pitch-black

coat shifting around his dense, biological steel muscles.

”Valerie is in a coma back on Earth,” Sebastian explained, his tone devoid of

any warm emotion. ”The System put a death-lock on her soul because she absorbed

a catastrophic hit to save the base. Standard healing magic won’t work.

Resurrection Altars won’t work. The game physically coded a rule that says she

has to stay dead.”

He tapped the glowing green interface hovering in the air.

”To fix her, I have to overwrite that rule. I have to synthesize a brand new

Conceptual Law that explicitly permits her to exist. But creating a new law of

physics from scratch requires fuel. It requires raw, unadulterated Source Code.”

Corbin slowly pushed himself up from the floor, his eyes wide with absolute,

unhinged horror. ”Boss... to get ten million units of Source Code, you can’t

just mine it. You have to extract it from the World Cores of fully integrated

planets.”

”Exactly,” Sebastian said.

”You’re talking about deleting servers,” Gwen breathed, taking a step back.

”You’re talking about pulling the plug on entire realities. Sebastian, there are

millions of people living on those servers! Refugees, players, NPCs... if you

take their World Core, the Void will instantly digest them.”

The silence in the bunker was suffocating.

Sebastian looked at the smuggler. He didn’t blink. He didn’t offer a dramatic

sigh of moral conflict. He didn’t grapple with the weight of the decision. The

man who had desperately tried to play the role of the quiet, defensive survivor

was dead. The Sovereign of Laws had taken over.

”I know,” Sebastian said simply.

”You can’t be serious,” Gwen hissed, her hand gripping her pistol. ”I’ve done

terrible things to survive in this shithole. But mass planetary extinction? For

one girl? You are going to murder billions of people to wake up your princess?”

”Yes.”

The answer was so immediate, so perfectly devoid of hesitation, that Gwen

actually flinched.

”Listen to me, Seattle,” Sebastian said, his voice dropping into a dark,

metallic hum that vibrated the loose tools on the workbench. ”The System is a

meat grinder. The Void Gods are currently eating their way through the

multiverse. Earth is barely holding on because I put a fancy dome over a

warehouse. I tried playing nice. I tried setting up an economy. I tried to

follow the rules.”

He took a slow, heavy step toward her. The sheer, terrifying pressure of his

presence made the air in the room feel incredibly dense.

”But the System doesn’t care. It took her anyway. So, I am done playing nice. I

am going to carve my way through the Juncture. I am going to rip the beating

hearts out of every weak, corrupted server I can find, and I am going to burn

them as fuel to get what I want.”

Sebastian turned away, looking at the holographic map of the multiverse floating

above the central console. Thousands of tiny, glowing orbs dotted the dark void.

”I am the Anomaly,” Sebastian whispered, his silver eyes reflecting the digital

map. ”They put a three-planet bounty on my head? Fine. I’ll take thirty.”

Wraith didn’t argue. The Assassin simply bowed his head. ”Awaiting orders, Boss.

Where do we start?”

Sebastian reached out and tapped a small, violently flickering orange orb on the

outer edge of the holographic projection. It was located in a sector of the

Juncture that was heavily saturated with purple Void smog.

”Server 404,” Sebastian read the data tags. ”It’s a low-population zone. Barely

integrated. The System uses it as a dumping ground for corrupted files and

failed players. It’s weak. It’s unstable. And it has a World Core just sitting

there waiting to be harvested.”

”I’m staying here,” Gwen stated firmly. She crossed her arms, her jaw set. ”I’m

not helping you blow up a planet.”

”I didn’t ask you to,” Sebastian deadpanned, turning his back on her. ”You and

Corbin stay here. Keep the bunker locked down. Wraith, you’re with me. We’re

going to go pull some weeds.”

Sebastian tapped his newly upgraded interface. He bypassed the standard Ethereal

Plane travel mechanics and directly accessed the raw routing protocols of the

Spoofing Drive.

”Initiate transit,” Sebastian commanded. ”Destination: Server 404.”

VWOOSH!

The air inside the bunker violently warped. A jagged, static-filled tear in

reality ripped open in the center of the room. It didn’t look like a magical

portal. It looked like a violently bleeding glitch in the fabric of the

universe.

Sebastian didn’t look back. He adjusted the collar of his black leather coat and

stepped straight into the screaming void.