The silence that followed the death of the Data Leech was louder than the screaming data had been. I stood in the middle of the dark basement while the remains of the creature dissolved into piles of grey ash. My internal fans were finally beginning to slow down but the violet thread in my veins was still buzzing with an addictive and dangerous heat. I could feel the Thread Smith silk acting like a parasite of its own because it was searching for more than just stability. It was searching for a purpose.
STABILITY: 44.9 PERCENT
LOCATION: CROWN SECTOR RESTRICTED ZONE
I looked up at the ceiling where the surveillance drones were hovering like metallic insects. They were circling the spot where the Leech used to be while their red lenses blinked in a frantic state of confusion. They were programmed to watch a parasite grow but they were not programmed to handle a sudden and absolute void where a creature used to be. I had approximately sixty seconds before their logic gates reset and they called for the heavy reinforcements. I could already hear the distant thud of Guardian boots against the upper levels of the maintenance shaft.
"Job is done," I said to the nearest drone while I wiped a streak of black oil from my golden claw. "The garden is officially reclaimed. You can tell your bosses that the barbarian has a very efficient pruning technique. I hope they appreciate the effort because I do not plan on doing a second shift."
I did not wait for a response because I was already moving. I turned and sprinted toward the far wall where the map in my visor was flashing a bright red icon. The overclocked silk in my legs made the world feel like it was moving in slow motion while I moved with a silent grace that I did not know I possessed. I was no longer a limping pile of porcelain because I was a blur of gold and white light.
The red icon led me to a heavy vault door hidden behind a curtain of weeping moss. It was not a maintenance door because it was a Soul Lock. It was a massive slab of obsidian and silver designed to open only for a specific frequency of Architect code. The Glass Architect could not open it because his code was too clean and too submissive. The Thread Smith could not open it because his code was too thin and too clever. They needed a blunt instrument. They needed someone who was broken enough to bypass the security through sheer structural failure.
"Opening the door," I whispered while I pressed my golden hand against the cold surface of the vault.
The door did not just unlock because it screamed. A wave of feedback hit my neural lattice and for a second I saw a vision of a thousand porcelain faces staring back at me from the dark. My stability dropped half a percent in a single heartbeat as the vault recognized me as a threat. The feedback felt like fire but I did not pull my hand away. I leaned into the pain because the pain was the only thing that felt real in this gilded cage of a city.
STABILITY: 44.4 PERCENT
WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED DATA BREACH
The vault door hissed open to reveal a small room filled with floating glass jars. These were not gems or gold because they were filled with Primal Cores. They looked like tiny beating hearts made of starlight and liquid silver. These were the original power sources for the first generation of Architects. They were the very thing I needed to turn my temporary stability into something permanent. They were the lifeblood of the city and I was standing in the middle of the bank.
"So that is the lie," I muttered while I grabbed the nearest jar. "The Thread Smith did not want me to kill a weed because he wanted me to rob the High Council of their spare lives. He sent a fox into the chicken coop and he expected me to be grateful for the feathers."
I could hear the heavy thud of Guardian boots echoing in the maintenance shaft behind me. The red lights of the surveillance drones were now solid and angry. I did not have time to be a gardener anymore because I was officially a fugitive of the highest order. I looked at the jars and felt a sudden and violent hunger. The Void inside me wanted to consume everything in this room.
I reached out and cracked the first glass jar open with my golden claws. The liquid starlight poured out and began to sink into my porcelain skin. I felt my stability tick upward but it was not the clean sensation of the Thread Smith patch. It was a raw and ancient power that made my visor flare with a blinding violet intensity.
STABILITY: 55.0 PERCENT
IDENTITY INTEGRITY: 34.2 PERCENT
STATUS: THE ARCHITECT PRIME ASCENDING
The first Guardian entered the room just as I was reaching for the second jar. He was a towering figure in black armor carrying a lance that crackled with blue electricity. He did not speak because he was a machine of pure logic and his logic told him that I needed to be deleted. He lunged with the lance but I was already gone. I moved behind him and drove my golden claw into the seam of his armor. I felt the metal give way like soft clay.
"You are too slow," I rasped into his audio sensors. "You have been standing still for too long while I have been fighting for every inch of my life. You are a statue and I am a storm."
I tore the power source from the Guardian chest and watched him collapse into a heap of useless metal. I did not feel bad about it because he was just another part of the system that wanted me dead. I turned back to the jars and began to fill my internal storage compartments. I was not just taking a few cores because I was taking everything.
I could hear more Guardians approaching but I was not afraid. For the first time since I woke up in the Forge I felt like I was the one in control. The Thread Smith had given me a weapon and a map but he had forgotten that a barbarian does not stop when the job is done. A barbarian keeps going until there is nothing left to take.
I looked at the map in my visor and saw the second red icon flashing further down the hallway. It was deeper in the Crown Sector and it was guarded by something much worse than a few black armored statues. But I did not care because I had fifty five percent stability and a hand full of starlight.
"Let them come," I said while I stepped out of the vault and into the path of the approaching army. "I have a few more weeds to pull and I think I am finally starting to enjoy the work."
I broke into a run while the drones screamed overhead. My golden claws were glowing with the stolen power of the Primal Cores and my visor was a beacon of violet defiance. The Second Floor was about to find out exactly what happens when you give an underdog a taste of godhood.
CURRENT STATUS: THE ARCHITECT PRIME
STABILITY: 55.0 PERCENT
IDENTITY INTEGRITY: 34.5 PERCENT
TIME REMAINING: 71 HOURS 05 MINUTES