Forbidden Zone, page 26
“Says the kid who spent his whole life floating inside the Zone itself,” I say.
“Only along the edges for the most part!” Endila waves. “No one goes there. The Heartbreak isn’t meant to handle that kind of Mana load.”
Dornalor frowns, leaning forward. “What do you mean? I dropped Bolo off, and my baby barely had a hitch. And she was nowhere near as upgraded then.”
“That’s because you went through one of the regulated hyperspace streams, right?” Endila says.
“Of course.”
“You probably noticed the Galactic Fleet holding station and the various defensive stations around?” Another nod from Dornalor before Endila says, “Those aren’t there just to ward off monsters, though obviously the killing they do is useful. It’s to stabilize the streams.”
“Impossible. Even at the rate they were killing the monsters, the Mana Density is too high for them to balance the flow just by slaying. If it was that easy, we’d never even have a Forbidden Zone,” Dornalor says.
“Exactly! It’s not the killing. It’s the Skills of the Hyperstream Enablers and their teams.”
“Those kinds of Skills only work for a dozen or two light years,” Dornalor says, frowning. “There’s no way they stabilized across the entire stream.”
“Incorrect. Hyperspace Stream Traversers, Travelers, and Walkers of the Dimensions are able to stabilize locations via Safe Passage or other Skills at the Heroic Level or due to Skill Evolutions,” Ezz pipes up.
Mikito pushes her bowl forward, placing the chopsticks on it carefully before she eyes Endila. “How do you know all this?”
“I went to school. Didn’t you?” Endila sneers.
“I want to hit him. Can I hit him?” Ali says, looking at the back of his hand.
“He’s a kid. We don’t hit kids.” I waggle a finger at the Spirit while Endila smirks. “But you can store up the walloping for when he turns adult.”
That makes Endila blanch a little. Ezz titters, and I look at the sentient golem, who freezes.
“Awww…” Ali says.
“Fine, so what you’re saying is the hyperspace streams back and forth from the planet are artificially lowered and stabilized,” I say, cutting through the garbage.
Endila nods, while I turn to Dornalor and raise an eyebrow, a little annoyed he didn’t know that. For that matter, it’s aggravating that for all the information the library offers to me so unwillingly, it also more often than not is useless when it really matters.
“I don’t go that deep for the most part,” Dornalor says defensively. “I definitely don’t do anything illegal while going in that deep into a Forbidden Zone. That’s just common sense.”
“Whatever. So we have another problem then.” I rub my temples. “So, what? We can’t get through using non-regulated streams?”
“Not in the Heartbreak.”
“We can upgrade her again?” Dornalor says a little hesitantly.
I don’t even need to see Endila shake his head to know that’s out of the question. We’ve overhauled the ship twice in less than a Galactic year, trying to traverse the Forbidden Zone. And it’s still not enough. Not when the Mana levels and the monsters are so high. Even now, flying through the hyperspace streams puts the runic enhancements and the shielding of the ship under massive strain.
Even if we ourselves might have the Levels to survive a fight, the Heartbreak is a lot more fragile.
“Then what?” Mikito asks and I can only shrug.
There doesn’t seem to be a good answer here. Waltzing in through the front door isn’t likely to work, but we need to get to the damn planet. I’d hoped we could sneak in, but it’s sounding less and less possible.
“For now, let’s get the ship fixed up and headed toward Xylargh,” I say. “The rest… the rest, we’ll figure out once we can.”
There’s a snort from Dornalor, but he gets up anyway to head for the bridge. I watch the Pirate Captain leave, a little niggle of worry in me. We’ve pushed him far, tested his loyalties again and again. At some point… at some point, that’s going to break.
The only question is when.
***
I catch up with Mikito a day later in the middle of the night in the training room. It’s quiet here, the rest of the ship having crashed long ago. Mikito’s greater Constitution has kept her running when everyone but me has to recover. The only other person awake at this time—other than my Hands, who I actively avoid—is Ezz, and it spends the time when Endila is asleep going over the other’s work. There’s a burgeoning competitiveness there, one that I am not getting involved in.
I’m amused to watch Mikito train as she flips, throws, and spins Hitoshi around her. The naginata’s heavier blade slashes through the air, leaving small indentations in the very fabric of reality. In the space left untouched by the blade, Mikito moves, dancing in a familiar fighting style. She goes through the kata, one after the other, before she finally comes to a standstill, her last motion a throw of the weapon. It flashes across the hallway to embed itself in the dummy before Mikito turns to me.
“Here to train?” she asks.
“No.” I pause, then add, “Maybe. That’s a variation on the Erethran Honor Guard fighting style, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I’m adapting it to work with Hitoshi’s new ability.” I cock my head and raise an eyebrow, and she chuckles. “Spatial Cut. Leaves a dimensional rift for a few seconds that does damage when something comes into contact with it or tries to go through that space.”
I can already sense the way the dimensions have healed, the torn holes in reality fixed. It’s fascinating, especially since it’s so close to the way my own Thousand Blades keeps itself floating in the air, moving in conjunction to my own attacks. The Rifts she creates are static though, so it’s different, which requires her to alter how the form is used. Definitely an adaptation.
“It’s looking good,” I say.
“Thank you. Now…?” An elegant eyebrow rises.
“I meant to ask about your Heroic Skill.” I rub my nose, tilting my head and idly scanning the threads that connect me to my friends. “I noticed something odd outside.”
“Boon of the Shogun,” she says. “It lets me borrow one of your Skills.”
“If it’s a boon, don’t I get a say in this?”
“No. Why would I let a baka like you choose for me?”
“I’m hurt.” I shake my head. “If I was a Legendary…”
“Yes.”
“So broken.” She grins, and I stretch my neck from side to side. “I can still kick your ass, you know.”
“No big Skills,” Mikito says, stepping away and holding out her hand. Hitoshi, embedded in the statue, disappears and reappears in her hand as she waits for me on the training floor.
“No fair.”
Another smile as she settles into her guard and I conjure my blades, walking over to join her. I’ve been slacking in my training, and the glint in her eyes tells me I’m going to pay for it. And for my earlier boast.
***
There is no such thing as good karma being repaid, not since the System arrived and not before. Anyone who tells you differently has an agenda. I believe that with all my heart and soul. So, when the universe decides to tilt things in our favor, you can understand that I’m just a little nervous.
“And you’re sure that if we get its corpse, we can imbue it into the Heartbreak?” I say.
Endila nods rapidly, almost vibrating off the deck plates with excitement. He stares at the visual notification screen where the little bit of luck has appeared at the edge of our sensors.
Deep Space Angler Fish (Level 427)
HP: 42713/42713
MP: 3381/3381
Conditions: Displaced, Mana Lure (Taunt)
“Level 400 plus,” Mikito, standing beside me, mutters. Her eyes are glowing as she’s seriously considering how to take on that monster. Problem is, I can see its conditions and am a little worried.
“I only see one of them. Are we looking for more?” I ask.
“Angler Fish are uncommon lure monsters. It’s unlikely there will be others. They are quite hungry and solitary,” Dornalor answers me over the intercom.
I’m not entirely sure that helps. The Angler Fish looks like a deep-sea monster from Earth, all big mouth, beady eyes, and giant, floating lure in front of it. That lure generates light and Mana waves that churn through its surroundings, creating a subtle taunt effect on everything around. Even standing here, tens of thousands of miles away, I can feel the pull of its Skill. I can’t even imagine what it might be like up close.
“You think isn’t a sure thing,” I say, knowing there really isn’t such thing as a sure thing.
I’m hesitating because even as we watch, the Angler Fish draws in another victim. What floats by this time is a mutated space station—whether it’s a metal elemental that has taken its form or a station given sentience, there’s no way of knowing. It floats toward the hanging lure, beams of light stabbing from its twisted docking bays as it tries to destroy and conquer, consume and capture the taunting light.
It fails.
When it is close enough, the Angler Fish moves. Not the incorporeal body that is visible to normal sight, not the one that is projected into our dimension looks, but the true body of the fish. It explodes from the secondary dimension it hides in and clamps down on the floating space station. Two quick, savage bites, like a piranha going after goldfish in an aquarium, and it’s over with. The entire space station is consumed, only shattered glittering remnants floating away.
The lure light blinks out, turning off as the Angler Fish reenters the secondary dimension and repositions itself. Thousands of kilometers away, the void waters have stopped churning, and the soul beacon of light, comfort, and food reappears. Waiting for its next victim.
“Can we hit it? When it’s hiding, that is?” I say, worry and doubt in my voice. I have a feeling I know what the answer will be and what it will mean.
“Not with the Heartbreak. Nothing that we carry crosses dimensions,” Dornalor says.
“I could, but it’d be short,” Mikito says, gesturing with Hitoshi.
“It seems the optimal solution would be to lure it outward,” Ezz says, little lights dancing in its eyes.
“Don’t look at me,” Harry interjects.
“No one is. No one’s ever looking at you for damage, Harry,” Ali says. “I can slip across the dimensions, but then I’ll be in the same dimension.” Ali shakes his head. “I don’t stand a chance, not against that, and definitely not alone.”
“So what?” I say.
“Mikito and Ali? But if that’s the case, can it hurt Mikito without transitioning over? If so, Ali could play bait maybe,” Harry offers.
Ali and Dornalor are shaking their heads, and I can’t help but agree. The library is quite clear that attacks that pass between dimensions are rare. The spatial rifts Mikito creates are damaging, but they’re damaging as a side effect of what they are, which means the damage to the creature itself will be blunted.
Since it seems to pop through every time it wants to eat something, it’s clear the Angler Fish’s main attack requires it to transition.
“So…” I scratch my chin. “We send Mikito and Ali over to kill it and the rest of us have barbecue?”
There are more than a few snorts of incredulity at that while Mikito punches me in the shoulder. “No. I need bait.”
I knew it. It always ends up this way. John, be bait. John, stand in front and get shot. John, be a hero and let everyone else hate you for the decisions you make.
“Fine, fine. I’ll be the Angler Fish’s chew toy.” I let out a long sigh, then add, “But I’ve got a few conditions.”
***
Flying toward that damn monster, my Penetration shield at a high level of charge from hunting down a couple of monsters a distance away from the Angler Fish, I’m as ready as I can be. I’m even fully dressed in the Spitzrocket since I really do not like the idea of getting eaten. Been there, done that and it’s never pleasant.
Gliding along silently, not so far away—in space distances—is Mikito. She’s on her horse, that ghostly equine creation of her Skill, hunting for the main body of the Angler Fish. Aiding her is Ali, whose functionality as a Spirit gives him an advantage in this search.
Even so, we’re gambling that she can find the creature before it chooses to eat me. She can hit it while it’s phased away, then come around and hit it again. When it finally attacks her, I can hopefully launch my own, unnoticed attack. In this way, we could pile on damage before the Fish becomes a problem.
We have a pair of Extra Hands with us for just this reason, though the other two are on the Heartbreak. There are always monsters to deal with, after all.
It’s pretty simple plan, but over the years, the KISS strategy has shown its advantages over and over. As these things go, the pair of us are more brutes than Machiavellian strategists. If I had to pick an old-world strategist to liken myself too, it would be Nelson, with his penchant for charging straight into the jaws of fire, all cannons firing while risking life and limb.
Sometimes quite literally.
Drifting ever closer to the damn lure, I can’t help but notice that the Mana impulses it shoots out are a mixture. The majority of it is tainted with the Angler Fish’s own, special flavor of Mana, but there’s still the unexpected. A tainted form of System Mana is in it, just enough to twist and subjugate anyone else who is attached to the System.
This deep into the Forbidden Zone, the System itself is blotchy except for the occasional moments of clarity. Outside of the notification screens we can call up that are entirely our own, we have to function without the System providing constant aid, leaving us only with minimal additional information.
Even the things Ali can show me are hedged, much of it coming from the library and his own experiences, past knowledge, and his understanding of the world. He can pick up hints from the System here and there, borrow my stronger Admin connection to piggyback additional searches, but there’s no true functionality, not anymore. That’s what makes the Forbidden Zone so dangerous. Along with the lack of Shop connection, even using Skills sometimes had a slight lag, sometimes in microseconds, sometimes full seconds. For cross-loaded Skills, that delay is even more apparent.
Of course, this lack of connection is nowhere near as bad as it was for me previously. As a System Administrator, I carry my own link with me, one that reinforces the area around us.
And yes, I’m using this slow, drifting course toward the lure to ponder aspects of the Forbidden Zone rather than the fact that Mikito still has not taken action. Even though the lure itself is literally less than twenty kilometers away.
My nerves are tense, strained, my head rotating constantly as I search for any sign of my attacker. I would say I’d be straining to hear things, but the void is devoid of sound. About the only things to hear are the harsh rasp of my breath and the occasional burble from the nanite gel that surrounds me.
Closer and closer I drift, and I’m certain I’m closer than the station was before it was attacked. I wonder though if it was because the station was attacking the lure that triggered the strike. I’d ask for suggestions, ask how close Mikito is, but we’re enforcing radio silence.
In the end, I’m too close for comfort. I reach sideways, grasping for a sword and watching it appear in my hand. Seconds later, the rest of my duplicate weapons form around me. I feel the Mana sphere shift, the world bending a little as something vast, something dangerous, moves.
Before it can finish its preparations, in the space between one heartbeat to the next, Mikito makes her move.
Light bursts forth as Hitoshi expands into a giant-sized version of itself. She swings the energy form of the naginata even as the horse speeds up, turning into another beam of light. Close as she is, I am able to fully appreciate the comical sight of the tiny Japanese woman wielding a naginata over three times the size of her and her steed.
Comical to me, but painful for the Angler Fish as she cuts right through it and across dimensions. Hitoshi rips a hole through dimensions, leaving a spatial tear as she holds it like a lance, zipping back and forth through empty space. Empty at least on this side of the world.
That is, until it isn’t empty anymore. The Angler Fish tumbles through the dimensional walls. Bleeding from multiple deep cuts, it flicks its tail to catch Mikito and send her and her weapon spinning aside. The Angler Fish is angered and damaged, but nowhere near dead.
However, it’s now my turn. In this dimension, I have a lot of techniques to use, the most powerful of which is Grand Cross. I unleash the Skill, watching as a glowing cross a quarter the size of its body slams into glistening scales, widening wounds created by Mikito’s charge.
From far away, the Hands who have been watching—and let me tell you, the argument I had with them when they refused to jump into the creature’s mouth was fascinating in a screwed-up way—open a Portal and make their way over.
Another Grand Cross, then another and another hammer the creature as the pair come through. It spins round and round, the Angler Fish shedding scales and iridescent light from its lure. However, there’s something going on with its Mana, something strange.
I figure it out a few seconds too late as the lure finishes absorbing our attacks to return them to the Hands. They’re clustered together because they chose to make use of a single Portal to have more Mana to cast Skills. And while they’re attempting to Blink Step away, they haven’t been able to get far enough before the blast of condensed energy strikes.
Soul Shields, their main form of defense; my Defense of the Fallen Skill; and the natural Resistances that are part of my Class offer them some protection. Enough to stave off death from a single strike. However, this is a Level 400+ creature whose condensed attack is drawing from the energy that they released themselves.
Another follow-up attack, and they’re gone. The only good news is that the one holding the Portal open slammed it shut before the attack managed to continue through and damage the Heartbreak.
