Chapter 11: Mcdonalds but for Knowledge
Troy stepped out of the lavish room, the soft hum of the city surrounding him. The air outside was thick with the familiar pulse of mental energy, but as the door clicked shut behind him, a new feeling crept in—uncertainty. He had the accommodations, the respect of the guards, but there was a glaring problem he hadn't considered in his initial rush: he had no idea where to start.
The city stretched out before him in every direction, filled with towering buildings and people who moved with purpose, their minds clearly attuned to the rhythms of Base 1. They knew how this world worked. They had grown up here, trained here, their very existence shaped by the flow of mental energy. But Troy? He was wandering blind, fumbling his way through a society that was as alien to him as the bioluminescent rainforest had been.
He hesitated, scanning the streets, unsure of which direction to take. Where do I even begin? He could feel the tension rising in his chest, the weight of his own ignorance pressing down harder now. The city offered everything he needed—knowledge, power, survival—but without a starting point, it was all out of reach.
Then, like a whisper in the back of his mind, he felt something shift. A faint pull, almost like an instinct, guiding him. It was subtle, barely noticeable at first, but the longer he stood there, the stronger it became. His legs moved without him even realizing it, his body responding to a feeling he couldn't explain. He wasn't thinking—he was just following.
Troy walked through the bustling streets, weaving between pedestrians and vehicles that hovered slightly above the ground, powered by the mental energy that seemed to saturate everything here. His steps were deliberate, but his mind was calm, almost as if something else had taken over. He wasn't lost, not anymore. Something inside him knew where to go.
After what felt like hours, Troy found himself standing in front of a sleek building, its surface smooth and dark, reflecting the faint lights of the city around it. The door slid open silently as he approached, and without hesitation, he stepped inside. The interior was sparse, minimalist—clean lines, soft lighting, and a single desk at the center of the room.
Behind the desk sat a figure, human-like but different, its features slightly blurred as if viewed through a haze. It wasn't truly there—an artificial construct, perhaps, designed to interact with those who entered. The figure's eyes glowed softly as it regarded him.
"Welcome to the Knowledge Station," it said, its voice smooth, almost mechanical. "Please state the type of information you seek."
Troy blinked, still processing what this place was. A Knowledge Station? He had no idea what that meant, but the word "knowledge" was all he needed to hear. This was exactly what he had been searching for, even if he hadn't realized it.
He stepped closer to the desk. "General knowledge," he said, his voice steady.
The figure tilted its head slightly, as though considering his request. "General knowledge encompasses a vast array of information—history, culture, mental energy manipulation, social structure, and more. Such an extensive download may cause serious neurological damage. Are you certain you wish to proceed?"
Troy's breath hitched. Neurological damage? The warning should have given him pause. It should have made him reconsider. But instead, something stirred inside him—the same instinct that had led him here, the same certainty that had driven him to survive the draining in the lab, to ascend despite the odds.
"I can handle it," Troy said, his voice unwavering.
The figure paused for a moment, as if evaluating him, then nodded. "Very well. Please prepare for the transfer."
Troy stepped forward, and the figure gestured toward a sleek, metallic chair that materialized from the floor. He sat down, his mind still calm, though the anticipation was beginning to build. A soft hum filled the room as a panel descended from the ceiling, stopping just above his head. The air grew heavier, and Troy could feel the mental energy in the room coalescing, drawn toward the panel, readying itself for the transfer.
"Initiating download," the figure said.
Then, without warning, the world exploded.
It was like being hit by a tidal wave. One moment, Troy's mind was clear, focused—and the next, it was flooded with an incomprehensible surge of information. It slammed into his consciousness with the force of a battering ram, filling every corner of his mind with raw data, images, concepts, and words that he couldn't process fast enough.
Pain. It hit him like a spike driving through his skull, every nerve alight with agony. The pressure built in his head, a relentless force that threatened to tear his mind apart. His vision blurred, and his muscles tensed involuntarily as he gripped the arms of the chair, his knuckles white.
But he didn't move. Didn't flinch.
The pain was overwhelming, but Troy had lived through worse. He had felt his mind shredded and drained in the lab, had experienced death and revival more times than he could count. This was just another test, another barrier he had to break through.
The flood of information continued, relentless, battering his consciousness. Images flashed before his eyes—maps of the city, the history of Base 1, the laws of mental energy, the structure of realms, everything he had been missing. It was all there, pouring into his brain faster than he could comprehend. But despite the pain, despite the overwhelming surge of data, Troy remained still. His mind, honed by years of suffering, refused to break.
I can handle it.
The thought repeated over and over in his mind, a mantra that kept him grounded as the torrent of knowledge raged on. He could feel his brain straining under the pressure, but he didn't let it consume him. He focused, pulling the information into himself, letting it settle, even as his skull throbbed with the weight of it all.
Seconds stretched into minutes, the pain intensifying with every passing moment. But Troy didn't give in. He refused to. This was what he needed. This was his way forward. Knowledge.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the flood began to slow. The pain receded, leaving behind a dull ache that throbbed in the back of his mind. The room returned to focus, and Troy's vision cleared, the haze lifting.
The panel above his head retracted, and the hum of the room faded into silence.
"Download complete," the figure said, its voice as calm as ever.
Troy sat there for a moment, his breathing heavy, his body drenched in sweat. His mind was still buzzing, filled with the remnants of the transfer. It was disorienting, overwhelming—but it was also incredible. He had the knowledge now. He could feel it, buried within the pain, waiting to be sorted, consolidated.
Without a word, Troy stood from the chair. His legs were shaky, but he steadied himself, ignoring the lingering ache in his skull. He needed time to process everything, time to let the information settle.
The figure at the desk watched him silently as he turned to leave. "Take care when consolidating the data," it said. "The human mind is fragile."
Troy didn't respond. He didn't need to.
Back in his room, Troy collapsed onto the bed, his body heavy with exhaustion. The pain had faded to a manageable throb, but his mind was still spinning. The flood of information was vast, too vast to make sense of all at once. But slowly, piece by piece, it began to take shape.
Maps, histories, laws of mental energy, the hierarchy of realms—all of it was there, waiting to be sorted. He could feel the knowledge shifting in his mind, solidifying. He knew it would take time to fully integrate, to fully understand what he had learned. But he had the foundation now. He wasn't stumbling in the dark anymore.
He closed his eyes, letting his body relax. The road ahead was still long, but he had taken his first real step.
Troy lay there in the darkness, his mind still buzzing with the remnants of the transfer, and smiled faintly.
Now, he had a path forward.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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