Luca DR
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The infinity dungeon 168
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 06:33:56 +0000 UTCChapter 168
Compared to the vastness of the Sanctum, the area affected by the detonation was minimal. It was a fraction of the huge, empty rock space that encompassed everything. What was more, it was the portion farthest from all the skill fractals, since Michael had elected to start from there and work his way inwards, not willing to risk the more vulnerable parts of his inner space while he was still inexperienced about the process.
When the explosion happened, any notion that distance might have had any helpful impact was quickly disproven. The blast sent shockwaves through the cavern, harmonic waves that fed off each other and grew more powerful with each lap they made back and forth. Soon they were much stronger than the original explosion had ever been, causing rocks to fall from the walls and ceiling, gouging deep holes and furrows in the structure of the Sanctum itself.
Some of these cracks even reached the skill fractals, rupturing them, causing the pattern that had been whole to separate into two or more uneven chunks, the deep darkness of the abyss between them. It wasn’t more rock that had been exposed by the cracks, but some dark lack of anything, reminiscent of the void beneath Truth’s Veil, but at the same time feeling… incomplete.
Already, Michael could feel that the action had caused his power to weaken, and his condition to worsen significantly. Leaning against the rock, which now felt brittle and unfit to provide safety for his weakened body, he hoped he had not done permanent damage to himself.
Unfortunately, the worst had yet to come. Like an angry rabid dog poked and prodded while sleeping, the red lines of the system made themselves known in all their displeasure of what had been done to them.
The hole in the walls, the wound in the Sanctum, was the place where they had been damaged the most. There, red energy leaked into the air, disappearing in wisps of wasted magic. In response to this, the rest of the network of lines began to draw more magic from the surroundings, absorbing the energy of the fractals it encroached upon, absorbing the Qi deep in the stone and the mana on the surface, and even sucking the clouds of thunderous Intent and Chi and converting them into more red energy.
Michael fell to his knees, body numb and unable to support his own weight. The system was sucking the energy from him to keep itself alive, a cancer brutally rerouting what little energy was left, uncaring of the fact that if its host body died, it too would die.
Or would it?
Michael was forced to crawl towards the hole, where the dust had settled and a strange light could be seen deep in the rock. Unlike the cracks spreading across the surface of the Sanctum walls, there didn’t seem to be void inside the hole, rather the explosion had dug into solid rock and created a sort of tunnel.
At the end of the tunnel, something had been unearthed and was the source of the light. Without the ability to feel magic through his usual skills, and with his body and Sanctum so weakened, Michael had a hard time telling what the light really was. All he knew was that it felt familiar, like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing for a long time.
He crawled towards it, dragging his body and fighting for every inch of distance. His breathing was ragged, and a hollow pain accompanied each breath, while his hands and feet felt cold and numb. Closer to the center of the body, the arms and legs were burning instead, a million needles piercing the skin.
Through gritted teeth, Michael made his way into the tunnel dug by the explosion. An eerie blue light came from the depths of the rock, but once he was several feet deep Michael realized that it wasn’t the only source of light in the tunnel. The walls were laced with tiny lines, much different from the geometric redness of the system. They were his meridians, the pathways of Qi, tiny rivers of azure energy coursing through his Sanctum.
They were expanding, colonizing… flowing towards the source of the light in the darkness. Spreading through every inch of the rocks, they preceded Michael by a few feet as he made his way with painstaking slowness.
At the end of the tunnel, deeper than it had any right to be, he found a lump of glowing rock. It was rough, unpolished, partially entombed in the stone. He didn’t have the strength to free it up, but he knew very well what it was.
He had found his Body Dantian. With this, he had found the true location of two of three Dantian Cores inside his Sanctum. The only one missing now would be the Mind one, the first he unlocked and yet the last unknown.
“Something is changing, Michael,” came Icarus’ voice. The AI had indeed been watching all this time.
With titanic effort, Michael touched the Body Dantian.
A long time passed before Michael dragged himself out of the tunnel, with a bit more vigor than before, feeling some strength return to him. With the Core now ignited, he could already feel his body return to life in the real world, some echo of sensation reaching him even here.
The Dantian also stabilized the Sanctum. While not repaired, it had stopped crumbling. Even then, the damage was severe.
“Thorough degradation of all sectors,” was Icarus’ verdict, “plus the system constantly sapping you of magic as it bleeds energy into the hole. At least now the Body Dantian seems to be pulling some of that energy into itself.”
“Yeah,” said Michael weakly, “I wonder if that’s a good thing or not.”
“Not something you can afford to think about right now,” the AI reminded him of his need to survive first, and figure out the long-term consequences later.
“I think I can force myself to wake up in the real world. How weakened am I?”
“All of your skills have lost between 40 and 90 percent of their power right now. They are damaged and being drained of energy, as are your magic pools. The only things that aren’t being affected right now are the Dantian Cores and the Unity skill, which has somehow survived without a scratch. So, you have your three cultivation stats and your number stats. Plus some weak magic.”
Michael nodded, “I can work with this.”
With a snap of his fingers, he woke up to a tomb of stone and ancient dust.
***
Three knocks, then two more. Travis opened the door before the sequence was even complete, having been told by Icarus that Michael was coming ahead of time.
“Michael! Where the fuck have you been?”
“Having fun underground,” he said with obvious sarcasm. “I got some nice magic vision goggles, though.”
He showed the item to Travis: a dusty pair of camo-green aviator goggles.
“What?” The man shook his head, “where did those come from? You know what? Nevermind.” He got closer, “listen, we gotta get out of here. Mission is as compromised as it gets, they know we are here–we can forgo all subtlety short of an international incident. Icarus has arranged for a jet, we only gotta get to Fiumicino airport real quick.”
“How?” Michael asked, “it’s not close at all, and this is peak traffic hour.”
“I got a motorcycle,” Travis said with a nod and a grin, “you run on your stats. Stay close by, make yourself invisible. Delta Squad is on their way as well.”
“Wait,” Michael followed Travis, who was already halfway down the first flight of stairs, “how did the jet get here so quickly?”
“You don’t know?” the man asked, stopping with his helmet in hand for a moment as he looked at Michael.
“I’ve got connection problems with Icarus. Flow of data is… slow.”
“Whatever, we don’t have time. Our jet was compromised, this is one we just bought with our considerable assets. It’s being fueled as we speak. Can you get to the airport?”
Michael considered the situation, “can? I can. With Icarus, we don’t have to worry about mundanes either.”
“Line of sight? What if people see you sprinting across the countryside.”
“Who cares,” snapped Michael, “the real problem is if the Don sends another Priest.”
“A Priest? The mafia has priests on their side now?”
“Icarus didn’t brief you?”
“No,” He shook his head, then mounted the bike. “We too had connection problems for a little while back there. Now it’s back to normal. I sure hope it doesn’t happen again.”
“Shouldn’t.”
“Good. Listen, we got no time. Can you deal with any pursuers?”
Michael bit his lip, “leave them to me.”
With that, they departed. Michael on foot, running on roofs and jumping across busy streets, Travis by motorcycle, and with questionable safety standards. Despite his mostly unenhanced body and mind, he had talent for reckless driving, even though the chaos of Rome put pressure even on him.
“Four hours, Michael,” he spoke in his earpiece.
Michael, on a roof a couple clicks ahead of Travis, grunted assent. He was going to lose his lead once the other man got on the highway and started speeding for real, he knew.
“Why are you so fucking slow, man?”
“Are you tracking me? Eyes on the road, old man. Wait–fuck. They are behind me!”
Sounds of battle followed. Grunting, Travis pushed the bike faster as he weaved through traffic. It wasn’t easy: the roads were narrow and the traffic was composed of all sorts of vehicles in all sorts of shapes and sizes. Plus a considerable amount of people on foot, bicycles and electric scooters.
The sun was setting by the time he was out of the city and on the highway, watching the dry panoramas and the sight of the sea ahead. The sea meant airport, while he could only hope Michael would get there before their pursuers.
