Chapitre 48: Natural VS Artificial
*Hello again, back at it with another chapter. Hope you'll enjoy, and we'll keep going on with new stuff. Enjoy, and let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus vult.*
The three of them made their way to the lone figure, watching as it ate a slice of cake while seemingly lost in thought, her eyes wandering through the endless abyss of space.
The second Mark got closer, she turned around, the tips of her index and middle fingers glowing as she tried to touch his face. Before he could even say something, his arm was already holding on to her wrist, the touch firm but not painful.
"Sorry, but I can't let you analyze my biological structure or whatever. Also, you got bits of cake on your cheek," said Mark, speaking somewhat bluntly. Their gazes met, and she looked at him with interest—a touch too much interest.
"I see. My apologies. It's a work habit of mine."
He nodded, letting go, only to let out a soft breath and find her fingers on his jaw nonetheless. The touch was tingly, the glowing light dim, moving through his very being.
"Hmm, interesting. You must be him, then, the one Herta told me about. Mark, right? It's a pleasure to meet you."
He nodded, trying to not let the touch get to his head and annoy him.
"Yes. These here are Stelle and Himeko, but I have a feeling you already know them. We were around the place when we heard of your arrival, so we stuck around to come see you."
She smiled politely at the other two, and she found herself analyzing Stelle as well.
"I must admit, you two make for some interesting experimental specimens. You're in good health, Stelle, but something strange is happening to Mark. His cerebral activity seems to be spiking for one reason or another. I can't find the cause, which is also... interesting."
Her words made Mark give it some extra thought. Sure, it was all as she said, but then came the question: how come the Stellarons are interacting with his mind like that, to such a perilous extent? His gaze flicked again to the side, this time noticing an outstretched hand trying to get him.
"Aha, well, sorry, but I've been experimented on enough already. Herta's also paying me for that, so no way I'm letting you snatch away my salary..."
She looked at him with a tiny smile on her face, speaking calmly.
"How much is she paying you? I'll give you double."
Mark's eyes nearly had dollar signs in them, until he shook his head, remembering that it should be the sign of credits that the damned IPC implemented.
"Nah, no, she's also giving me access to the Simulated Universe, the place where I can train a lot faster, which I already did, and I'm sure you know. So yeah, no thanks."
She smiled, shaking her head slightly as she looked over to Stelle, as if switching from one lab rat to the other. Himeko had an amused look on her face, studying Ruan Mei with interest and a tinge of something different Mark couldn't quite pinpoint. Was it perhaps...
"No, it can't be."
Meanwhile, Stelle ate some of Ruan Mei's snack, and Mark's eyes widened like he had seen death itself.
"Stelle, what accursed fate have you doomed yourself to?" said Mark, his voice barely above a whisper. Ruan Mei glanced at him, trying to understand what exactly he knew and how much.
"What do you mean, Mark?"
He sighed, glaring at Ruan Mei for a split second before continuing.
"If I ask you what research area Ruan Mei works in, do you know?"
Stelle nodded, ready to speak her mind, but Mark knew what was coming. Himeko watched silently.
"No. My research area is short stories about toilets."
Stelle was shook, while Himeko found herself slightly perplexed. Mark sighed, glad that he knew about it; otherwise, he would have fallen for the same trick. As Stelle struggled to talk, Mark couldn't help but laugh, struggling to hide it. Himeko chuckled as well, her laughter softer than Mark's drowned-out screeches.
"It's not funny! I want more pastries, please!" yelled out Stelle, actually meaning to say that there was something added to that thing she ate from Ruan Mei.
"I know, Stelle, I know. She's put some substance into it that doesn't allow one to discuss something specific. That's the Ruan Mei I've heard about, right?" His gaze drifted her way, looking down at the frail woman with the mind of a devil. "I know about your little shenanigans, so don't think I'm not keeping an eye out. It's just a warning from me..."
The air got tense as Mark's expression hardened, his eyes growing a touch more cold.
"Keep meddling with the wrong powers and watch as your own creation will bring about destruction."
He turned around, ready to head deeper into the Space Station. One glance shot over his shoulder met her again, but she simply smiled at him with that tiny curl of her lips.
"I know what you do, alright? Stop the pursuit on the path of something monstruous. The last thing you want is having me on your tail."
With that, he walked in, trying to recall everything the proper way. The others followed, with Himeko discussing with her about different topics that they know and understand, while Stelle jogged after Mark, trying to ask for help.
"Mark, I have to know the recipe for Ruan Mei's cakes. Can you ask her?"
Mark shook his head, sighing loudly.
"She added some anti-truth serum to it, Stelle. I can't deal with those things. It's my fault that I didn't let you know in advance. For now, go ahead and lend her a hand. Meanwhile, I'll go meet Herta, then handle something."
He looked back to Himeko, who still talked away with Ruan Mei.
"Himeko, I'll be off for a while. Don't go looking for me, alright?"
His steps were thudding against the ground, his speed picking up ever so slightly. Part of him was eager to bear witness to what was about to happen, but still, he kept himself in check. There was no use in revealing it all too soon.
Quickly, he pretended that the researcher's whispers weren't directed at him, despite the name of 'Devourer of Cancers' playing on their lips over and over like a broken record. He headed straight to where Herta was, still in the room where he had been connected to the Simulated Universe.
"Heh, still here? Trying to figure out if everything is in order?"
She nodded, not minding him all too much. She kept checking the system, typing some commands away, her face blank. As soon as her gaze fell on him, she said nothing about his new outfit, treating it as something mundane.
"Yes, I'm checking, but it all seems to be in order. It must have to do with the Stellarons inside of you, so as long as you're not connected, something like that shouldn't happen again."
He sighed, trying to steer his mind in the right direction, opposite to the shadows and bleak moments of insanity that seemed to try and snatch him away.
"So, here's my phone. I made sure to take out the security measure, so you should be able to open it without issues. Try and see what you can do without getting my data lost. Meanwhile, I have another request."
Herta turned at him, not really happy about his demands.
"You sure love ordering me around. What is it that you want this time?"
He smirked, knowing it would be a bit of a show.
"It's easy... I need access to the lower levels, to what could be called the basement. I need to go in there and check for something. It'll be quick, and hopefully won't damage the damned Space Station."
Herta could feel a tinge of worry as he talked about damaging the place, but she quickly calmed herself down. He was nowhere near a level of strength in his current situation where he'd be able to just destroy on a large scale.
"I can get that done. Here is my access card. I need it back when you're done. Just put your finger here, and it should work."
Mark gave a quick nod, already on his way out. His stride didn't falter even as he made it to the elevator and down below to the eerie area. Compared to the rest, it felt like a cemetery, a place prepared for death creations and the ghosts that lingered still.
Shadows lingered in every corner, reaching out further and further as he went down, his eyes
Down below, there was a strange figure waiting—a man wearing a plaster head. He played chess with himself, an interesting feat that would make a normal person call them crazy.
"I see that you still like playing chess by yourself, Ratio."
The man looked at him, the plaster head blinking. Mark closed his eyes, rubbing them, and it all returned to normal.
"You seem distressed. May I ask who you are?"
Mark reached out for a handshake, smiling a bit.
"Name's Mark, just your average guy. So, Ratio, I guess we're here with the same destination in mind. I won't ask how you got here or what other bullshit you pulled, even if I'm pretty sure a genius like you should be up with Herta and the others, but sure, I'll give you a show."
Ratio was silent for a moment, faced with quite the predicament. Instead of the usual approach, Mark was open, not really bothered. Ratio didn't answer to the handshake, which did bug out Mark just a tiny bit.
"My original destination wasn't here, but then I happened to reach this place and witness what was going on. I believe our goals are roughly aligned, even if you're not the one in Ruan Mei's employment. I shall watch from the sidelines, ready to interfere only if you fail."
He sighed, lowering his hand, putting it in the pocket of his coat instead.
"Sure, let's see what we have here. I shall be on my way, then. Stick around and don't interfere. After all, time is of the essence, so we better stop the useless chatter. That's your style, right?"
Mark smirked, walking ahead. He wasn't shy about showing off a bit—not in front of a man like that. Ratio wasn't evil, or at least that's what Mark knew about him. However, the mysterious air surrounding him lingered thickly in the area, prompting Mark to not show off more than needed—for now, at least.
The thing he sought was right below, so he chose to just go below. Ratio remained above, watching silently. Humming softly, the descent was mostly plagued by the dark corners of Mark's mind, the ever-present darkness molding to the areas, trying to become one with reality.
"So, that's the large incubator where the creature is, I see. It's not broken for now, meaning that I came a lot earlier. What was it, like 56 seconds inside the game, the time that beetle was alive for?"
Mark's thoughts kept lingering, shaping themselves around the existence of that impossible being. Cracks began forming in the incubator, meaning that Mark was about to face the weight of artificial life. The energy inside his body piled up, focusing on his reinforced muscles and bones. They were almost healed fully, but some tear and wear was still present here and there.
"Time to see. God's own creation, against something made by the creation. Strongest creation of today, that thing, versus strongest creation in history, me."
The incubator was fully shattered, pieces of it falling to the ground with loud thuds, a weird mucus dripping to the ground. It wasted no time, flying at Mark without hesitation. All his training was put to good use, his movements precise. In a split second, Mark was in the air, leaping at it, charging his fist with some more energy.
"If I can't hold it inside of me, I should be able to let it out like this in a higher quantity, right?"
He smirked before his fist connected, the impact resounding loudly, cracks forming in the creature's shell.
"Heh, 20% output in my body's abilities, and 40% output in my blow. I should pack quite the punch now, right? My movement speed is also increased. I can do this."
His body was thrown to the side as it took up to the ceiling, staring down at Mark as it began propagating. Tens of beetles taller than humans began morphing into being, appearing and spreading rapidly. The smirk on Mark's face got wider.
"Come here then, boy!"
With a spring in his legs, he took to the air, using a burst of power to speed up. He grabbed on to whatever bugs tried to come his way, using them as stepping stones and weapons, tossing them around after smashing their heads in with quick punches. They were weak because they were like infants, but with time they'd become cosmic horrors.
His ascent was slowed down by the increasing number of enemies, yet he didn't relent. As the copy of the emanator began charging up its signature attack, a large sphere-shaped drop of energy, compact and held within an outer shell, Mark's smirk only grew more sinister.
"Come at me, you fucker!"
The insects got out of the way, preparing the path for the strike, leading to nothing but a single outcome: impact. He prepared his fist, building up as much energy as he could, going as far as reaching 50%, the turning point in his power scaling. Still, the toll placed on him in that moment was monumental.
"Time to have a taste of this!"
Their attacks clashed in the middle of the air, bursting alight with the brightness of a star. Mark was flung down to the floor, tanking the fall to the best of his abilities, his legs crying out at the contact. The whole Space Station rattled, and Mark's vision cleared up as the remnants of the creature scattered in the air.
"How much time passed, Ratio!?" he shouted from below, awaiting an answer.
"Fifty seconds, that's how much passed," the man replied, shouting back to make sure he's heard. Mark smirked, feeling proud of the extra six seconds he managed to win.
"Heh, sucks to suck, damned bug..."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone