Chapter 389: Truly Time for a Vacation
Iron Fortress Territory – Arcane Legion Garrison.
The control console in front of Lust had been operating at maximum frequency for
seventy-two consecutive hours. The sheer energy consumption had caused the
illumination throughout the garrison to drop by an entire shade.
Three days.
Seventy-two hours of uninterrupted global sweeps.
The result: Statistical Zero.
Absolutely nothing.
The energy curve was as flat as a polished mirror. Not even the ripple of a
mosquito crossing the perimeter had manifested on the sensors.
Lust was slumped in her chair, her skeletal legs propped up on the edge of the
console. Her soul-fire burned with a faint, lethargic flicker.
When Avarice pushed the door open, he nearly suffered a "Stumble Event" over the
mountain of documents cluttering the floor.
"When did this sector undergo a total structural collapse?" Avarice asked,
kicking aside a stray scroll and navigating around two leaning towers of
research logs. He walked up to Lust.
"Three days," Lust muttered, not bothering to lift her skull. "Status on your
end? What did you dig up from the Old Era archives?"
Avarice set a heavy stack of files on the desk with a dull thud.
"I have secured results, but the data-density is low." He pulled a chair over
and extracted a specific dossier. "In the ancient Elven Forest documents, the
records regarding the Old Gods of Lostarn are limited to this."
He spread the papers out. There were exactly five pages.
"That's the cumulative total?" Lust sat up, leaning in to audit the text.
"The Elves of that era had a persistent 'Logic Error' when it came to recording
history," Avarice said, his tone flat. "They would write ten pages of emotional
filler regarding the moonlight and only two lines of actual technical data. Of
these five pages, three are descriptions of temple aesthetics, half a page is a
poem praising a High Priest's vocal range, and only the remaining
page-and-a-half contains viable variables."
Lust flipped through the sheets. Indeed, the beginning was saturated with prose
so flowery it made her phalanges itch.
"Skip the fluff. Target the data."
Avarice pointed to the final section. "The Old God system of the Lostarn Realm
was categorized as the 'Five Pillars.' Five primary deities governing Time,
Space, Life, Death, and Order."
Lust's soul-fire pulsed. "Five?"
"Correct. After Ragnarok, the Five Pillars were all liquidated—or rather, they
were believed to be liquidated. The text states: 'The Pillars collapsed, the
heavens manifested grief, and from that moment, the Lostarn Realm was stripped
of Divine Protection.'"
Lust reread the passage silently.
"Time, Space, Life, Death, Order," she recited. "The Awareness Awakening Wave we
captured… is it possible it belongs to one of them?"
"The probability is non-zero," Avarice replied. "But it could be an
Out-of-Context variable. The 'Five Pillars' are simply the ones the Elves
logged. Who knows if the Old Era possessed other hidden entities?"
Lust scratched her skull. "Then what is our next protocol? Three days of global
sweeps and zero manifestations. Either the thing 'rolled over' and returned to
sleep-mode, or..."
"Or it has initialized Active Stealth Protocols," Avarice finished her thought.
The room fell into a heavy silence.
Lust stood up and walked to the window, looking out over Iron Fortress. Below,
the streets were operating within standard parameters: transport teams were
moving cargo, factory chimneys were venting steam, and the distant Mage Towers
pulsed with their hourly blue mana-glow.
Everything was normal. It was unnervingly normal.
"Avarice."
"Status?"
"If that entity truly is an Old God, and it is actively hiding..."
"State your logic path," Avarice prompted.
"Right. If it possessed 'Hostile Intent,' it would have initialized an offensive
upon awakening. If it has no hostile intent, why bother with stealth?"
Avarice considered the variables. "Fear."
"Eh?"
"It is afraid," Avarice stated clinically. "Audit the scenario: an Old God
survives Ragnarok, sleeps for indeterminate eons, and wakes up to find the
entire world-logic has been overwritten. Her faith is labeled a 'tumor,' her
power is at 1% capacity, and the world is governed by a New Hegemon she doesn't
understand. If you were that variable, would you not initiate a 'Laying Low'
protocol?"
Lust blinked. "You're saying… it's Gou-ing?"
"Statistical probability: High."
Lust went quiet. A "Gou-ing" Old God. That was significantly more difficult to
process than one that manifested and started a planar war. You can track an
aggressor. You cannot localize a variable that refuses to exist.
"We must report to the Sovereign," Lust said, turning around. "We cannot delay
further. Regardless of the data-scarcity, the threat-rating of this event has
exceeded our autonomous jurisdiction."
Avarice nodded. "Agreed."
"Who handles the briefing?"
They locked eyes.
"You," Lust said decisively.
"Reasoning?"
"Your vocal processors are more refined than mine. You're the tech-geek; make it
sound professional."
"..."
Avarice stared at her for two seconds before picking up his files. "Fine. I will
manifest at the Sovereign's location. You maintain the monitoring station. If
that entity manifests even a micro-second of energy, notify me immediately."
"Rest assured. I haven't entered sleep-mode in three cycles."
Avarice looked at her, then at the scattered files on the floor, and finally at
the novel tucked into her drawer.
"You've truly maintained 100% uptime for three cycles?"
"Affirmative."
"Then state the current page-number of that book in your drawer."
Lust's soul-fire twitched. "...Page 237. I only audited it during data-refresh
intervals. Sub-optimal downtime is a recognized recovery protocol."
Avarice didn't comment. He turned and exited with the files.
Once the door clicked shut, Lust leaned back into her chair, staring at the
energy curve on the console. Still flat.
She reached out and cracked the drawer open, glancing at the novel. [The Man
Pursued by Five Princesses Who Only Desired to Farm].
She hesitated, then slammed the drawer shut.
She couldn't read it. Even though the fifth princess had just manifested and the
author had left a massive cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter, her mood
for fiction was at zero.
Lust adjusted her posture and focused all her processing power on the monitoring
array. The curve on the light-screen remained a straight line.
But she had an intuition. The entity was awake. It was localized in some corner
of the Empire, staying quiet. Waiting.
"You better truly be 'Gou-ing'," Lust muttered to the empty room. "If you
suddenly jump out and cause a Logic Error, I'm officially requesting a vacation
from the Sovereign."