Defiance of the Fall

Chapter 1256: Taking Control

The octagonʼs aura of stars and enduring faith was poison to the corruption. Dense plumes of Dead Dao were pulled out of their bodies to be incinerated as they entered. Streaks were even dragged out of Zacʼs pores, much to his surprise. He thought heʼd absorbed everything into [Purity of the Void], but some had clearly managed to embed itself without his notice. It was nothing compared to the large amounts of purple mist pouring out of the still-unconscious trio wrapped in his chains.

The intense pull of fate from the sun called on Zacʼs attention, and a voice of caution in the back of Zacʼs mind stopped him from rushing headlong toward it. Trying to take the Flamebearer seal now would be no different than a moth flying into the fire, literally. The sun perfectly positioned inside the octagonʼs center was the real deal, even if it only spanned ten meters across.

Zac was almost certain it was a linked copy of the sun powering the Centurion base. The energies it contained were blinding, far eclipsing the suns New Earth orbited. Entering would instantly turn him to ash. Furthermore, hundreds of solar flares covered almost the whole chamber. Tough, oddly enough, they sprung from arrays on the ground and entered the sun rather than the other way around. It made time appear to be moving in reverse, except there were no hints of Temporal Energy.

Their group would have been dead already if not for the installed arrays. The octagon was transforming the flares, removing the scorching heat they ought to have radiated. Faith transformed them, enlisting their intense power for its own purpose. However, approaching the spire could potentially trigger hidden defenses, turning the benign streaks into fingers of death.

The seal being out of reach didnʼt bother Zac. Itʼd be his after finishing the Flamebearer quest that tasked him with lighting the Centurion Beacon, which had to be done anyhow. He took in the chamber in search of clues. There was no big red button to light the beacon nor any consoles inside the large array.

”Itʼs a copy of the base,” Zac muttered.

The spire was a miniature version of the central tower they presumably stood inside. A magic circle far beyond Zacʼs comprehension was engraved on the ground around it, vaguely resembling the outer band. Seven subsidiary arrays were placed on the band at equidistant locations, finishing the replica by representing the outer towers. The base was a grand array powering or controlled by this small chamber.

Even the solar flares being born every second werenʼt random, except for a few that were malfunctioning. Their shape and direction held truths just outside Zacʼs reach, adding a third dimension to the array. Most flares sprung from the spire, forming an almost permanent shell that empowered it with intense faith.

Most of the remaining arcs originated from the seven subsidiary arrays, which briefly lit up wherever the sunlight emerged. Only a few stemmed from the outer band. Zac suspected the array was the main interface connecting the Centurion Base with the sun. Why that was necessary for the beacon remained a mystery, though.

A tremor from outside confirmed the Foreign Gods hadnʼt given up, though entering the octagon had reduced the scream of danger in Zacʼs mind by a noticeable degree. Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before the walking horror broke through. The base was unable to mount a proper defense if it had to send its Cosmic Vessels on suicide attacks to halt the Godʼs advance.
”We donʼt have all day, Draugr,” Kator said with a subdued voice, glancing in the direction of the bridge.

”Iʼm aware,” Zac said, flashing away.

The array was far beyond his understanding, beyond the boundaries of any Hegemon. Even Galau would be limited to educated guesses if he woke up. The only lead was seven small chambers aligned with the outer towers, resembling the guard station inside the Polaris Vault. Zac moved like the wind, dodging the few errant flares that reached beyond the magic circle.

Zac only took in the consoles and screens for a moment before moving on to the next one. It wasnʼt that he could discern the roomʼs purpose with a glance. Rather, the slumbering key, which had remained quiet since it led them through the storm, had woken up. It wasnʼt pointing anywhere specific, but there was an unmistakable difference between the subsidiary circle and the trackerʼs energy signature.

A simple scan confirmed where he needed to go; the control room two spots over in Katorʼs direction. Zac still took the long way around, briefly stopping in each chamber before reaching the right one. He waved at Kator, whoʼd kept watch on the situation outside from the exit. Or, more likely, stayed close to the only escape route in case something went wrong.

”Over here.”

Kator flew over, scoffing at how Aleaʼs chains had retracted into his back brace, with no sign of the others anywhere. Zac had left one of his followers in each control room with a hastily inscribed information crystal, spreading the risk in case something happened and he couldnʼt react in time.

”How do you know this is the one?” Kator asked suspiciously.

”It belongs to the base I got the key from,” Zac explained as he walked inside.

A huge eruption shook the outside, and the array lost its grip on a dozen solar flares. There was no time to play it safe, or thereʼd be nothing left to control. Zac infused his will on the button-less console, immediately feeling a powerful pull that gobbled up the imprinted energy. Sensing it wasnʼt enough, Zac quickly placed the [Court Cycle Token] against the surface.

It only took a second for the token to be almost entirely drained. Only slivers were left when a deep hum spread through the chamber, and the solar flares briefly froze. Zac blankly stared at the scene for a moment before woodenly walking out of the room.

”Is it done?” Kator said, glancing toward the sun.

”Not yet,” Zac said, barely hearing the reaver over the roar of information flooding him.

The arrangement no longer seemed complicated or abstract. To Zacʼs eye, the patterns looked no different than the base during their approach, if a bit hollow. The scale made Zac feel like he was one of the Foreign Gods as he approached the spire. Even then, Zac was extremely nervous as the flares drew closer.

The burst of information was very clear. During normal circumstances, it took vice commanders or higher from all seven of the Centurion Projectʼs divisions to light the beacon. There was, however, an exception. A single commander could activate the experimental puppets in times of crisis, provided he was sanctioned by the Imperial Faith.

The combination of the key he discovered in the Lighthouse and the [Court Cycle Token] allowed Zac to pass the first criteria. The second was a much bigger problem. It wasnʼt that long ago heʼd faced a similar roadblock in the Pilgrimage of Faith. That time, heʼd faced a vehement, prejudiced rejection, and Zac wasnʼt so sure if the Void could save him in this situation. For one, shattering the spire would ruin his mission. Secondly, his D-line bloodline was no match to the intense energies locked within the miniature sun.

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The only reason he dared approach was that he didnʼt sense any hostility from the streaks of light all around him. They were reacting to his presence, though, by inching toward him. It would be impossible to reach the spire and activate it without coming in contact with at least a few few, so Zac steeled himself and tentatively reached out with his hand holding the token.

The streak came alive, moving with the speed of light. It evaded the token to head straight for Zacʼs forehead. Zac didnʼt even get the chance to be caught off guard before a tsunami of information drowned him. Zac felt his mind balloon to encompass tens of thousands of rooms, corridors, and arrays, all of them with massive amounts of diagnostic data. There was nothing of note except for two small breaches leaking corruption, and a stockpile that retained some raw materials in decent shape.

Another streak unloaded its freight before Zac could digest the first, and an abandoned stretch of the outer band was added to his mental map. More and more were added by the moment. Each flare held the data necessary to fill in the blanks of the base, but Zac was fearful rather than expectant at having the baseʼs secrets at his fingertips. Just a dozen small sections made him feel like heʼd been cramming for an exam for hours. Stuffing the whole base into his brain was far beyond his capacity.

That didnʼt mean he could stop. Each streak held a sliver of faith, and a ball of Imperial authority was growing in his chest. He could intuit heʼd need much more if he wanted to light the beacon. It didnʼt take long for the amount of information pouring into Zacʼs mind to reach overwhelming levels. Thankfully, the information wasnʼt insistent on staying, allowing Zac to discard most of the data while keeping the faith.

The more he accumulated, the more intimate his connection with the sunlight became. Soon enough, Zac sensed something familiar from a nearby streak. He reached out his hand, and it readily diverted to him. Zac suddenly saw the burning jungle from the visions in the Lost Plane. This time, the scene was accompanied by context. The flare came from the outer ring where one of the baseʼs four Stellar Generators was placed.

The hollow ring was supposed to be empty because of the intense radiation emitted when siphoning power from a starʼs core, except for some plants bred to absorb any corruption before it could reach the formation. Without anyone to cull and maintain the protective barrier, it had grown and mutated into something completely foreign.

Zac didnʼt care so much about the great transformation as the scene taking place in the center. It was like he could see Catheya and Kruta with his own eyes. They looked ragged and exhausted, but their eyes shone with determination as they doggedly defended a crack in the plantʼs foundation. The attacker was the jungle itself, with throngs of roots desperately trying to reach the tremendous energies being generated before it was sent into the base.

There was no way for him to help. His connection gave him very little authority to enact changes on the base. There was nothing he could activate or change, anyhow. The arrays meant to deal with the corrupted plant life were long gone, along with most other systems. He could only extend his mind, trying to convey a short message—endure just a little bit longer.

Zacʼs mind was already reeling from seeing Catheya fighting for her life. Or rather, fighting to give him an opportunity. Without that plant generating energy, the base would lose a quarter of its power, and it was running low as is. It left Zac humbled theyʼd fight so hard based on blind faith heʼd hold up his end.

The waves in Zacʼs heart only grew stronger when he discovered a second group of crewmembers. To think it was Carl whoʼd sent the Cosmic Vessels to their rescue, having somehow commandeered a whole fleet. The archer was wracking his brains trying to awaken a vessel marked as the Pernumia Ino since it was the only thing that had a chance of leaving any lasting damage on the Foreign Gods.

Then, there was Joanna, RaʼKlid, and Janos. Theyʼd passed the gates theyʼd been running towards before. Now, Joanna stood atop a pedestal, holding an ancient sword, her aura of Faith Energy and Killing intent on full display. Janos was by her side, trying to use his illusions to overcome the mismatch between Joannaʼs Faith and the base.

All the while, RaʼKlid was covered in blood, holding off a swarm of puppets. He was trying to buy the time necessary to activate the sword. Like the others, they werenʼt fighting for treasures. The sword was the Array Heart of an incredibly powerful weapon. Joanna was trying to fight back against the attackers, and Zac could even sense streaks of Lifeforce leaking from her murderous aura.

Seeing the others going above and beyond washed away the pain and exhaustion. Zac moved like a wrecking ball through the web of flares until he reached the innermost layer of light, the data transmitted from the central tower. Suddenly, he saw their attackers as clearly as if they were climbing the spire right before him.

One was roughly at the middle point, resisting waves of Faith and Stellar Wrath to reach Zacʼs location. The other was much further down, digging into another section. It was from that region Zac felt another familiar thread, and Zacʼs teeth itched from fury and alarm upon realizing the second Foreign God was making its way toward Vilari.

The Mentalist was locked in an invisible struggle against something sinister brewing inside a puppet. Zac couldnʼt even take in the form of the refined God, so anxious from Vilariʼs unstable aura. She was reaching her limits, and the shockwaves from the Foreign God digging through the tower walls separating them were like hammers to her soul.

The only thing on Zacʼs mind was to activate the beacon and awaken enough puppets to annihilate the miscreations that were threatening the lives of his people. His fury was overwhelming, transforming the accumulated faith and giving it a vengeful purpose. Zac placed his hand on the spire, imbuing it with his intent and authority.

A powerful presence descended on him. Zac didnʼt shy away, instead glaring up at the blinding sun. ”The enemy has returned. Awaken!”

There was only a brief hesitation before the first of the outer circles lit up, the one representing ʼhisʼ Lighthouse. The streaks of sunlight had been replaced by a roaring bonfire reaching dozens of meters in the air. Zac grunted as he turned to the next array. Activating the outer tower felt like cutting off a part of his soul. He pressed on, bringing a second, third, and fourth online with sheer determination.

However, an unexpected situation made him stop in his tracks.

Their group wasnʼt the only ones in the base. A cultist so powerful he twisted the solar flareʼs information stream was standing inside the fifth outer tower. He was in the middle of breaking through a reinforced barrier, not bothering with subterfuge in the least. Fleshy tendrils spread for miles and miles into the surrounding corridors, completely overwhelming the QrizʼUl and base defenses.

The cultist was in a different section than the torch, but he was wreaking havoc to the point it was destabilizing the whole tower. Yet the barrier was holding on, and Zac soon realized why. The halls inside were the Centurion Baseʼs Ascension Chamber, the location where the projectʼs leaders tackled their bottlenecks. As such, its resilience was far beyond the rest of the base, perhaps even eclipsing the octagonʼs.

The cultist was clearly aware of what was inside. His aura was continuously rising, meaning heʼd started the process of upgrading his Inner World. Worse, Zac actually recognized the cultist from one of the top-secret recordings heʼd received from the Everfast Monarch. The intruder was none other than the KanʼTanu Pope.

Zac had suspected he might be lurking in the area after seeing the unusual amount of activity in the Imperial Graveyardʼs depths. Heʼd never trusted the Allianceʼs assurances that heʼd been wounded enough to force him into seclusion. As expected, the pope was alive and well, and he was about to ruin their plan.

The KanʼTanu leaderʼs aura was so overbearing that Zac couldnʼt tell whether he was a Peak or Divine Monarch. It didnʼt much matter. Either was so far beyond their level there was no fighting back. More importantly, the ascension of a cultivator with such monstrously fell Karma was bound to trigger a calamitous tribulation.

The Centurion Base was struggling to come online, and the Foreign Gods were adding insult to injury. The grand formation had a good chance of collapsing entirely if it also had to assist in a Heretical Cultivatorʼs Dao Defense. That might even be his plan, killing two birds with one stone. Heʼd sacrifice the base to overcome an impossible tribulation, ruining Zacʼs plan along the way.

Zac wouldnʼt allow that to happen. Not when the lives of his people were at stake. Seeing the pope whoʼd caused so much suffering to his people and Zecia only exacerbated Zacʼs anger. The seal floating above his head was only a distant thought at this point.

Foreign Gods, popes, and everyone else who came between him and completing the mission—the Centurion Base would become their tomb.