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

”You are going to deliver a message for me.”

Sebastian stood back up and turned toward the massive holographic screen hovering in the center of the room. Saint Grigori and Saint Jin were still watching. The bridge of their dreadnought was dead silent. Hundreds of cultists stared at the screen in pure horror.

”Hey, Grigori,” Sebastian called out casually.

”Are you getting all this?”

”You are a monster,” Grigori growled through the feed, his holy aura flaring with righteous fury. ”You butcher men who cannot fight back.

You are a vile, corrupted sin!”

”I’m just a guy who hates uninvited guests,” Sebastian corrected.

He opened his green Admin UI. He completely bypassed the standard Ethereal Plane travel mechanics. He used his root access to forcefully tear a hole in the localized server space.

A jagged, unstable portal ripped open right next to the crippled assassin. Through the tear, they could see the pristine, golden floor of Grigori’s dreadnought bridge. Sebastian had literally hacked a direct doorway straight onto the enemy flagship.

Sebastian looked down at the sobbing messenger.

”Tell Grigori I have his Source Code,” Sebastian commanded. ”Tell him I have ten million units of it. And tell him that if he wants it back, he has to come get it himself. No more hit squads. No more stealth. Bring the fleet, or I’m coming to delete your entire religion.”

Sebastian didn’t wait for the man to respond.

He just drew his leg back and brutally kicked the crippled assassin directly into the portal.

The man flew through the jagged tear, screaming as he crashed heavily onto the golden floor of the dreadnought right at Saint Grigori’s feet.

”Special delivery,” Sebastian smirked.

He snapped his fingers. The portal violently closed, instantly severing the connection and shutting down the holographic broadcast at the same time. The room plunged back into the dim, red emergency lighting of the bunker.

The room was finally quiet, save for the wet, ragged breathing of Vane bleeding out on the floor.

Sebastian let out a long, exhausted sigh.

He tapped his internal UI. The towering, horrific Glitch form dissolved into green static. His body rapidly shrank back down to his normal six-foot frame. The black static faded, replaced by his torn leather coat and his pale skin. The weeping mask vanished, revealing his silver-tinged eyes.

He looked exactly like himself again.

He walked over to Vane. The leader of the Silver Hands looked up at him, his cybernetic eyes flickering.

”You... you can’t win,” Vane choked out, blood bubbling on his lips. ”The whole multiverse... is coming for you.”

”Let them come,” Sebastian said deadpan.

He raised his heavy boot and stomped down on Vane’s head, instantly zeroing out the assassin’s health bar. The body went limp, finally dissolving into a pile of harmless grey ash.

[Target Eliminated.]

Sebastian wiped a smear of blood off his cheek. He looked over at the ruined blast doors of the bedroom.

Gwen and Corbin were standing there. The smuggler and the code-smith were staring at him with a mix of absolute awe and deeply ingrained terror. They had just watched him completely dismantle a Level 80 hit squad without casting a single damage spell.

”Room’s clear,” Sebastian noted casually, stepping over the piles of ash. ”Sorry about the mess, Corbin. You might need a mop.”

”Y-yeah,” Corbin squeaked, nodding frantically. ”I’ll... I’ll get right on that, Boss.”

Sebastian walked past them, heading straight for the central workbench in the main lab. He didn’t have time to celebrate. He didn’t have time to rest. The Saints knew exactly what he had. The countdown to a massive, multiversal war had just started.

”Lock the doors,” Sebastian commanded, pulling his bottomless inventory open. ”We have some math to do.”

The heavy steel blast doors of Corbin’s underground bunker were welded shut. The rogue code-smith wasn’t taking any chances.

He had taken a plasma torch to the frame, physically sealing them inside the reinforced room.

The air smelled like stale sweat. The only sound was the heavy, rhythmic humming of the massive server banks lining the walls.

Sebastian stood in front of the primary workbench. He took a slow, deep breath, centering himself. His thirty-percent physical synchronization was stable. The Void Toxicity was completely cured. He was ready.

”Alright,” Sebastian muttered, rolling his shoulders. ”Let’s see what ten million units of pure reality looks like.”

He reached his hands into the glowing void of his inventory.

He pulled out the foundational anchors of four entire planets.

THUD. THUD. THUD. THUD.

Sebastian placed the four World Cores onto the scarred metal table.

The reaction was immediate and terrifying.

The ambient mana in the room spiked so violently that the glass screens on Corbin’s monitors instantly cracked. The air grew incredibly heavy, pressing down on them like a physical weight. The room temperature began to wildly fluctuate, rapidly shifting from freezing cold to blistering hot as the conflicting localized physics of four different realities fought for dominance in the tiny bunker.

The cores were breathtaking.

The core from Server 404 was a deep, violently pulsing crimson red, dripping with the raw, aggressive data of the Blood Lake.

The core from Server 519 was a sickly, glowing green, radiating the toxic, swampy code of the lizardmen. The core from Server 889 was a blindingly bright, pristine gold, humming with high-fantasy elven magic. And the final core from Server 901 was pitch black, consuming the light around it like a hungry void.

”Holy shit,” Gwen breathed, taking a large step backward. She shielded her eyes from the intense glare. ”You actually did it. You harvested four worlds.”

”Boss, the bunker can’t handle this much raw data!” Corbin panicked, frantically typing on a cracked datapad. ”The servers are overheating! The localized reality is tearing! If you don’t contain those cores, they’re going to spontaneously detonate and wipe this entire outpost off the map!”

”I’m not containing them,” Sebastian said, his silver eyes reflecting the chaotic light of the cores. ”I’m spending them.”