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

Sebastian followed the path. He walked for what felt like miles, though distance was an entirely relative concept in this space. He bypassed massive, towering pillars of archived data representing fully assimilated worlds. He stepped over the dark, corrupted patches of servers that had already been digested by the Void.

Finally, the illuminated pathway ended.

Hovering just above the surface of the data sea, encased in a protective bubble of soft blue light, was a single, intricate file folder. It looked like a rotating, holographic globe.

It was Earth.

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at the blue and green sphere. It looked small. It looked incredibly fragile compared to the towering monuments of the older servers. But it was completely free of the dark, purple smog of the Juncture. The golden barrier he had established was holding perfectly, wrapping around the planet like a protective blanket.

He reached out and gently tapped the holographic globe.

The globe expanded, instantly unfolding into a dozen live video feeds that hovered around him. He was looking at the real-time status of Server 894.

He saw the ruined, burning streets of the Ironhold slums. He saw the massive, sprawling ash wastes where he had dropped the glacier. He swiped past the general server feeds, his fingers moving rapidly until he isolated the specific coordinates of his own territory.

Sanctuary.

The feed opened, displaying the courtyard of his Tier 2 Citadel. It was a mess. The walls were heavily scorched from the Vanguard Syndicate’s bombardment. Dozens of Scrap Golems lay in rusted heaps across the asphalt. But the base was standing.

The camera angle shifted, diving down into the subterranean levels of the fortress. It bypassed the heavy titanium doors and entered the medical ward.

Sebastian’s entirely deadpan, unbothered demeanor finally cracked. A profound wave of relief washed over him, loosening a knot in his chest that he hadn’t even realized he was holding.

Standing near the back wall, leaning heavily on his massive wrench, was Galleon. The dwarven engineer looked exhausted, his beard singed and his armor covered in soot, but he was alive. Next to him, perched on a stack of empty ammunition crates, was Wraith. The Assassin was sharpening his daggers, his posture vigilant and tense, standing guard over the center of the room.

And there, resting on the cold, runic-carved marble of the Resurrection Altar, was Valerie.

She looked exactly as he had left her. She was perfectly still, trapped within the translucent block of hard-light magic. Her azure robes were torn, and her face was pale, locked in a deep, magical stasis.

Sebastian stared at her. He had ripped the universe apart to get here. He had deleted an army, consumed the gods, and literally shattered the ceiling of the Ethereal Plane.

”I’m here, Princess,” Sebastian whispered, his hand reaching out to touch the holographic screen. ”I’ve got the admin keys. Let’s wake you up.”

He closed the video feeds, leaving only the raw, scrolling text data of Valerie’s personal character file hovering in front of him.

It was time to hit the undelete button.

Sebastian stared at the cascading lines of code that made up Valerie’s digital existence. To a normal player, it would look like a meaningless jumble of numbers and Ethereal runes. To the Sovereign of Laws, it read like an open book.

He could see her stats. He could see her class progression as an Arcane Valkyrie. He could see the exact moment the Sky-Fortress detonated, the catastrophic drain on her mana pool, and the severe physical trauma that had dropped her health bar to absolute zero.

”Alright, let’s fix this,” Sebastian muttered, rolling his shoulders.

He raised his right hand, accessing his Administrator privileges. He highlighted the line of code that dictated her current status. It read: [Status: Comatose. Awaiting Resurrection.]

Sebastian mentally pulled up his command prompt. He didn’t need to synthesize a new law for a simple revive. He was the highest authority in the room. He just needed to change the text from ’Comatose’ to ’Active.’

He highlighted the word. He typed ’Active.’ He hit enter.

BZZZZT!

A harsh, violently red error window snapped into existence, entirely blocking Valerie’s file. The sudden, blaring color was jarring against the calm, peaceful blue of the Mainframe sea.

[CRITICAL ERROR: Override Denied.]

Sebastian frowned, his silver eyes narrowing behind his visor. He tapped the warning away and tried again, pushing a fraction of his raw, 10,000x multiplied processing power into the command to forcefully push it through.

BZZZZT!

[CRITICAL ERROR: Override Denied. Target Entity Locked.]

”Excuse me?” Sebastian growled, his voice echoing loudly across the quiet data ocean. ”I just shattered your bosses into gray mist. I own this terminal. Execute the command.”

He forcefully grabbed the file, attempting to physically drag the ’Active’ status into her baseline code.

The file violently rejected him. A massive string of red text expanded, filling his entire field of vision. It wasn’t a standard error message. It was a heavily encrypted, deeply embedded sub-routine that carried the distinct, arrogant signature of the Grand Archons.

[Notice: System Override Failed.] [The ’Spite Protocol’ is active on Target Entity: Valerie.] [Condition 1: If Server 894 is isolated from the Multiversal Grid...] [Condition 2: If Grand Archon authority is forcefully terminated...] [Result: Target Entity soul-code will initiate auto-deletion sequence.] [God-Tier Laws required to bypass fundamental death mechanics.]

Sebastian froze. His hand hovered in the air.

He read the text. He read it again. The absolute, terrifying reality of the situation washed over him like a bucket of ice water.

”You petty, vindictive bastards,” Sebastian whispered, his voice shaking with a sudden, uncontainable fury.

The developers hadn’t just put a lock on her file. They had hard-coded a hostage situation into the fabric of the server. The Archons knew Sebastian was an Anomaly. They knew he was incredibly powerful, and they knew he cared about the Arcane Valkyrie. So, they built a fail-safe.

If Sebastian won—if he successfully locked Earth away from the Void and overthrew the System’s management—the System would automatically, permanently delete Valerie. It was the ultimate corporate ’fuck you’ from beyond the grave.

”Spite Protocol,” Sebastian hissed, his hands balling into tight fists. ”You couldn’t beat me in a fair fight, so you rigged the game to kill the only thing I came here to save.”

He paced back and forth across the surface of the data sea, his heavy boots sending angry, chaotic ripples through the glowing water. His mind raced, calculating a billion different scenarios per second.

He couldn’t just hit ”undelete.” The moment he tried to forcefully lift the coma, the Spite Protocol would trigger. The code was deeply entangled with her digital soul. If he yanked the trap, it would rip her base files apart.

He needed software. He needed to write a brand new law of physics that explicitly permitted her to exist outside of the System’s established rules. He needed to untangle the malicious code line by line.

He stopped pacing. He pulled up the [Law Synthesis] module on his green UI.

He had ten million units of raw Source Code stored in his inventory, harvested from the four dead planets. He had the fuel. But creating a new concept from scratch wasn’t just a matter of pressing a button. It required manual input. It required him to reach directly into the raw, uncompiled core of the Mainframe and physically type the new reality into existence.

He looked down at his hands. He was wearing his black tactical gloves. Beneath them, his physical body was currently rendered as biological steel.

The Mainframe was pure, absolute data. It violently rejected physical matter. The only reason he was surviving standing on the surface was because his Demigod aura was constantly shielding him. To reach into the core, he would have to drop his shields. He would have to expose his human meat-suit to the raw, unadulterated processing power of the universe.

”It’s going to burn,” Sebastian stated to the empty space, stating a simple, terrifying fact.

He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t weigh the pros and cons. The pragmatic, cynical survivor who carefully calculated every risk was entirely absent. There was only a man who refused to lose his player two.

Sebastian took a deep breath. He reached forward, plunging both of his hands directly into the raw, violently humming core of Valerie’s digital soul.

He was going to perform open-heart surgery on a server. And he was going to do it bare-handed.

—-

Sebastian stood perfectly still on the surface of the infinite, glowing sea of data. The Mainframe of the Ethereal Plane stretched out in every direction, a tranquil ocean of liquid starlight and floating, luminescent jellyfish made of pure code. It was the most beautiful, serene place he had ever seen in his entire life.

It was also the most annoying piece of software he had ever had to deal with.

Hovering right in front of him, encased in a soft, protective bubble of blue light, was the digital file representing Earth. And right at the forefront of that file, glaring at him with obnoxiously bright red text, was the ’Spite Protocol’. The Grand Archons had hard-coded a hostage situation into the fabric of the universe. If he saved his planet, the system would permanently delete Valerie’s comatose soul.