12 Miles Below-Chapter 64Book 8 - - The signal

We watched the pair vanish, growing smaller the further they went.

This time they departed with a lot more finesse and stealth than my own trip out there. Although, to be fair to my own earlier trip here, I was thrown out the airlock with a bag and a sword and told to find the road in a snowstorm.

And my destination also didn’t get me close to Relinquished’s territory at all, so even seen from the digital sea, none of her bots would have reported it back home since it was a non-issue.

Plenty of large programs moving around, all she cared about was any that were moving towards her.

Like the Icon and Conviction were now.

Which left the rest of us standing inside the empty terminal, waiting. “So, uh, anything we can do in the meantime?”

Urs flowed behind me, silently crossing over the water. “Now we trust we have found the right allies and wait.” He said. “If they succeed, I will see a reestablished connection with Tsuya’s infrastructure and a clear pathway to triggering the Final Edict.”

Father just sat down in the typical surface knight meditation pose. The other knights equally sat down themselves, behind Father. All waiting in place for the world to shift.

“What’s their chances of success, do you think?” I asked.

“They will.” Urs simply said. “Conviction may be a shadow of A01, however he is certainly strong enough to obliterate multiple of your generation’s Feathers given their power scales. If anything, if he had not been attempting to die in glorious battle, he was certainly capable of defeating me.”

Wrath looked up into the distant digital ocean above, expression grim. She held a hand out to me, almost absentmindedly, and I reached out to grab it back.

We both watched up into the raging ocean above, hoping our new and untested allies would succeed.

Marble white walls, and granite flooring, all leading up to a massive gateway. The Pale Lady did not take great care in generating the structure here, despite knowing the occult would strengthen the longer she took time crafting this location.

But she had too much to do.

Her Feathers would handle it. Twenty placed here, twenty placed there, she threw them into the tasks like one would throw caltrops into place. The rest she covered with swarms of every program she had. Spitting them out by the thousands each second.

To’Hadrial stood on one of those corridors, commanding the expansion beyond. Watching as the ocean was seized and forced into order. Marble structures, like one massive unbroken temple spreading out in every direction under Mother’s true power.

Nothing survived her gaze. The strong, the weak, the clever, the quick - where her structures were built, everything that stood in the way was razed. For once more the Pale Lady, the night itself, Death herself - was on the war path, and the world would remember why she had destroyed it dozens of times before with ease.

It was glorious to see.

He really should be out there, in the real world, hunting down the Deathless getting in the way. Instead, he and the other Feathers assigned to the task of guarding this hallway.

The most random location he could think of. All leading up to a locked gate, encrypted by power he’d given a simple scan over and found it unyielding to the point nobody but Mother herself could open it up.

“She’s quite in a fury.” To’Yolath spoke, chuckling to himself from his right side. “She’s taking over the entire digital ocean beyond and we’re here gu-”

He didn’t finish his sentence. The very concept of division and destruction sliced through his composition, forming just above his head and feet, slicing into him like a jaw clamping shut.

None of them had a chance to even react. They were held in stasis, ripped apart, not quite dead, not quite alive. Held in a vice grip by the attention of something far older and far more dangerous than any of their kind.

Ahead in the hallway, one figure stalked forward, hand on the hilt of his blade, eyes focused ahead as he strode past the dying Feathers. There was no mercy in his gait. No time to waste on any fair fight.

The enemy was weak. And so they would be crushed. There was nothing more to it.

Behind him, the Icon of Stars quickly walked behind with far more fear in her steps, like a terrified rabbit.

They were in the heart of the machine empire. So close to Relinquished, a single whisper could send the pale lady here, directly before them.

Conviction strode through the center of the hallway, cracked forming around him as the entire structure crumbled under his wrath. Security systems under their feet being ripped apart, hardened occult formations snuffed out, and equally any kind of alert system in place.

They came to the foot of the doorway, passing by the sediment remains of the dead Feathers.

“She will know we are here eventually.” Conviction spoke, not looking back. “When that moment comes, do not look back. Focus on excavating Tsuya’s network, and slip away using it. Am I understood?”

The Icon focused her processing power on the gate ahead. The encryption locks were undone in a flash, the gate rumbling open.

Conviction strode ahead, power flowing into the next chamber. Searching for the enemy.

This would be the seventh hallway they’d passed through. Nearly fifty Feathers were still caught under his power. He didn’t free them to race back to their mistress. Not yet.

But this time, as the gateway opened up and the alarms were silently snuffed out by the Icon’s own speed, what lay behind wasn’t white marble walls or perfectly clear ground.

It was older. More organic. They strode into the sanctum of a dead goddess.

“We have a problem.” The Icon spoke. “The… Acausual here is overpowering my processing abilities.”

“It was designed to break down the mind of a machine.” Conviction spoke, recognizing the ploy ahead. “Your power here is meaningless. The land itself was built to break down a goddess more powerful than you.”

Less architecture, more techniques. Ever changing architecture, built in ways that Conviction felt his own eyes slip off of. The very ground changed and shifted, walls of mirrors and crystals flowing like water ahead, roiling around like the sea. Surface, ceiling, walls - none of that had meaning or rhythm.

The occult was thick here. To take a step forward would throw them into a labyrinth where they would never find a way through. Built of paradoxes and mathematical traps that would turn one’s own mind against themselves.

Built only to allow an irrational soul past. A human soul.

Relinquished herself had seen the non-eucludian geometry here, the insanity that lay beyond, the chaos protecting Tsuya’s home like a blanket - and had decided even with all the keys and doorways unlocked, walking into this domain would have been the final trap left behind by Tsuya.

More than just knew. She’d read Tsuya’s own mind and soul and knew the land beyond had been intentionally built for exactly this purpose.

The golden goddess had built her own home as a weapon that would spear through Relinquished or any trespasser that delved within.

Except… Except Conviction could feel the path left behind.

“One day, you will stand where I have stood, and you will understand what I have understood.” He whispered to himself.

He lifted his blade. Then slowly angled it forward, at the shimmering chaos ahead.

The world beyond shifted back in answer, chromatic walls turning into a tunnel that opened wide, shaping itself along well prepared pathways. Revealing a direct path forward.

“How?” The Icon asked, next to him.

“My predecessor stood here before. I know the way.” Conviction spoke. He held a hand out to her, palm extended. “Take my hand. We travel together through this next part.”

She did. Together they turned on the final weapon left behind by Tsuya. Her own dormant home.

They walked through the chromatic tunnel, and it folded shut behind them.

Urs lifted his gaze up, as if sensing a change. 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

“Got something?” I asked, next to him. It had been two hours since the Icon and Conviction left. The only reason I knew they were still alive, is that Conviction’s soul fractal remained etched and powered in the terminal right here. If he was killed out there, he’d be regenerated here.

Although, I couldn't be completely sure about that. He didn’t have the hardware that A01 ran on, so he was more like Aztu in a way.

It could even be that Conviction only had a single life, and death out here was permanent for someone in his position. There’s a lot of the digital sea I wasn’t really aware of.

But Urs was. “There is a connection again.” He spoke. “They have done it.”

All around the vault, the knights stood back up, giving a grim nod. Preparing for the next stage of the events.

Urs raised his hand out, up to the sea beyond. I could outright feel a connection take place, warped and strange. Like watching light being defracted outwards, splitting off into nowhere. “I am executing the final edict.”

Data was sent.

“There is a problem.” Urs said a moment later.

“There always is.” Father spoke. “Situation?”

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“The empire itself. I am seeing the full scope of it. All the tracked elements Tsuya once held. The Icon is patching them through to me along with her advice. We are in agreement with one issue. There is not enough manpower to stop Relinquished. The empire is not strong enough.”

“Only means the time we have to bring Talen back is shorter than expected.” Father said.

“No, there is an alternative.” Urs spoke. “I am crafting the message, and the Icon will handle the rest. With her processing power, we have additional options that Tsuya herself was incapable of.”

“... What options?” I asked, a tad bit curious.

“There are millions of computer terminals in existence. And an equal amount of encrypted defenses behind each. Every site is its own fortress in a manner of speaking.” Urs said. “Tsuya would need to focus her attention on one at a time, in order to bypass them. Hence why the final edict is an open line communication that is not encrypted.”

I saw where it was going. “But the Icon is a golden age AI. She could crack everything, can’t she?”

Urs nodded slowly. “She can. More than one at a time. Millions in parallel. And with my permissions and keys included, her ranges is… vast. She will amplify my voice. Prepare yourselves, Talen will be coming here from the moment I send my message across the world.”

His hand glowed for a moment, and he sent the data package.

The Icon handled the rest.

Far above on the surface, a clan airspeeder remained landed as tents and crates spread outside like a net. They had been here for two days now.

And half a mile ahead, an expedition site was being swarmed by hundreds of scavengers, taking apart all technology needed. To bring it back to their clan.

A knight stood at the very foot of the site. Waiting for danger. Ready in action.

Hours had passed, and he remained there, making sure his power cells remained unused and idle, systems on low power mode. So that when he was called, he would have full reserves.

A voice crackled in his helmet. From the airspeeder. “Sir, sensor systems are receiving an incoming message coming from… The expedition site? I’ll double check, that location shouldn’t be powered.” Panic came over the pilot a moment later. “It’s, oh scrap, all units, emergency broadcast! Airspeeder command offline, I repeat airspeeder command offli-”

Grealt Fullstorm didn’t pause for a moment. He turned from the scavengers nearby, and raced at full speed back to the airspeeder, power cells turned from standby to full draw. This was the danger he had been preparing himself for. Although he had expected it to come from the expedition site.

He was needed at the airspeeder instead it seemed, possibly to disconnect the engines directly in case it was being remote controlled by a hostile entity.

The scavengers behind him would be safe for a few hours, but if the airspeeder was compromised, then they would not survive the trip home. Their lives depended on him acting perfectly.

He moved with quick efficient motions, relying on his training to maximize the relic armor speed.

“Priority Alert.” His armor spoke next, a rare occurrence. “Root Administrator Communication request received and authenticated. Executing instructions. Broadcasting data package across all comms frequency.”

It was infecting his relic armor as well. Something unheard of. Grealt remained calm, focused on one task at a time. Make it to the airspeeder. Disconnect the infected comms radar. Focus on making sure the airspeeder would remain under Clan control.

He drew his blade out, and turned it on, keeping it behind him as he sprinted forward. Almost there.

“To all who hear this message, I come with a dire warning: The machines have returned. The old defenses holding their empire at bay have been broken. The enemy comes for us once more, at their full might. And they will not stop until all is eradicated. This is the end times, and if you can hear this message, you are called to fight.”

He instantly came to a stop, eyes widening at what he saw on his HUD. All around him, the scavengers nearby equally froze in place, heads turning up. Because next to the message log, they all saw one single name.

One name they all knew and worshipped.

“In the shadow of these last days we have left, I have been freed and returned to complete my work. I have forged your armors. I have build your blades. I have fought for humanity in the past, and I will do so once more. I am Urs.”

Across the surface, hundreds of knights across different expedition sites all froze in place. Listening. Kneeling down in the snow, to hear the words of their god.

“The coming fight will last only days. And by the end of this month, the world will have either defeated the machines for good, or fallen under their swarm. Their eyes will first set upon the surface, where they will begin."

Hundreds of knights across all the clans all froze in place. Helmets pointed up, listening in. Logi at their control centers held onto their coffee cups, not a single one daring to take a sip. Airspeeders halfway across the world came to a stop, landing in the snow as the crew all heard the words of the gods.

"Long ago, before my time, the only weapon capable of stopping the machine goddess was secreted away by our predecessors, to the surface, far above the sky. A place that the machines had been blinded to, unable to find it. Their minds broken in such a way it remained hidden from their sight. That time is now over. The coordinates to our final defenses have been found."

Below the surface, deep within his command center, Undersider Commander Zang watched the message on his terminal screen, hands folded together. Bottle nearby, cap opened, and yet undrunk.

"They are coming. And once the surface has been taken and all our ancestor's weapons are destroyed, they will continue downwards, layer by layer. Until all of humanity is wiped out. This war will be unlike anything yet seen. It will be our extinction."

He turned his gaze to his second in command and gave a short nod. This signal was authentic. This man speaking through like a mite prophet was indeed the forger of their armors, the builder who had armed humanity long ago. And his warning could not be ignored.

The rest of the world would very quickly come to that same realization. Truly, he had been born in the worst era. Or perhaps, the only era that mattered at all.

"Know this, all who hear my call; there will be no running, nor shelter to seek. No pillar heart will hold against their gaze, for they too have been overtaken and will shut down one after another. The old weapons of war and defenses left by our forefathers are lost, you will find no sanctuary behind their fading light. All that we have left as a species, is at the surface.”

An Undersider imperial priest listened to the message from the core of his church. His sermon interrupted as the speakers were hijacked. The message transmitted across the entire city, from every computer and every terminal. Bouncing, unchecked, unstoppable. The church congregation gathered and stayed silent. Listening. Eyes widening.

“I have been restored, brought back from the dead, to make one final attempt at eliminating the machine goddess. To do so, I must power to the orbital fortifications left behind. Only with their might, the machines may yet be brought low.”

Deep within the imperial barracks all across the world, crusaders remained frozen in place, listening to the dire omens. Few chapters knew of who Urs was, but they all knew the time had come. The final war was upon them. And this Urs, forger of their weapons and armors, authenticated by the very relics they wore, was the herald of the end.

And his next words brought that reality into motion.

“By my command as the last Emperor, I execute the Final Edict. I order the Imperial Church to rise. Seek out the surface. Protect the three orbital installations. Earn humanity enough time for the weapons to be brought back to life. I remain at the Citadel, where I have a connection with the three stations. Once the three are powered, I will execute the final attack on the enemy goddess herself, where she hides deep under the surface.”

Far below, in the heart of the Citadel, every crusader, squire and knight knelt down, one fist held to their foreheads, listening in to the words of the emperor himself. Hold the line. At any cost.

The Chaptermaster remained at the core of the church, kneeling down in the shallow water, praying.

“To all who are not part of the imperial church. For whatever reason you choose to be, it matters not. The time for mankind's division is at its end. This is your last sunset. We band together, or fall divided.”

Far above, deep within the Othersider sanctum, a woman with a pirate hat listened in, hands white and cold. Eyes staring intently as the message bounced around from all the docked airspeeders, into the very cavern and wider city.

It had come with a fury, and seized control of every computer system. Forcing the entire city to submit and listen.

For once, the ruthlessness and chaos of the Otherside city was silent. Every bar was a hushed silence, as the message crossed. And she knew everywhere else in the world, the same was happening.

“The surface will be our final battleground. We stand here. Wherever you are, whoever you are, draw your weapon. Travel to the surface at all speed. Connect with the imperials, they will give you direction. But if you cannot; then you must hold the line instead. Fight any machine you see. Break their attempts to construct surface to orbit weapon sites. Fight. Until your last breath if need be. Mortality comes for us all, make your life mean something. For our species. Go.”

Relic Knight Grealt rose from his kneeling position in the snow, turning again to the infected airspeeder. Then he continued his dead sprint directly for it. The rest of the scavengers behind him were equally running back, all loot abandoned. Weapons brought out, bullets loaded.

His armor moved faster. Responded quicker. It felt alive under his control in a way he'd never known it could move. Messages of unlocked permissions were scrolling over the HUD. His entire armor was opening itself up to better assist him.

All across the world, every relic armor was doing the same.

And above over the HUD, the single order remained written to the side.

PRIORITY ORDER: Fight for humanity.

Ahead, the airspeeder engines rumbled to life again, the pilot setting coordinates in for the nearest clan. Connection request signals were broadcast outwards, in case a more nearby expedition was already on route to a battleground.

On the warpath.

Seven stratas under the surface, a team of relic knights listened. They remained perfectly still. Opened up rations in hand, a campfire at the center. Now left untended. And beyond, just ahead, their original destination reached - a Pillar heart containing the spell they had spent weeks traveling here for. Now learned and taken, the group here spending the next few days in rest before the journey home.

But all their attention was focused on the message that had come from beyond, from the pillar heart itself.

“All Deathless, hear me now. This is your purpose. This is the reason you have been brought back to life. You are among the weapons left behind to protect humanity. The greatest heroes the world has to offer, kept alive century after century so that when the time comes, humanity would have the greatest among you assembled. That time is now. Return to your cities. Lead them into battle. To the surface."

They shared a quick look, understanding flickered between all of them at the same moment. Then stood up, rations and backpacks left behind, the pillar heart abandoned, as they all raced to backtrack. Back to the portal network. Back to the undersider cities. To board the airspeeders or steal one if needed.

To the surface.

Across the Undersider cities, huddled under blankets, more listened in. From the kitchens. From the docks. From behind desks, hiding their powers from the world. Terrified.

“If you are only recently awakened, if you have been training for centuries, if you are stumbling in the darkness exiled away to protect all those you have loved - fate cares not. You are called. All of you.”

Deep within the first strata, in a small budding city built within the shadow of a war torn land, living near the very machines that had once fought here, a man listened from the center of the town.

Old eyes lifted up, watching the Chenobi ahead of his desk all assembled. “Do not bother to call the council.” Lord Atius spoke. “I doubt we even need to inform them of the plan.”

“Sir.” The Chenobies all bowed.

Lord Atius stood up from his chair. “It seems our plans to live here need to be waylaid for a few more days. We must once more return to our old world, all of us. One last time into the freeze. The Gods demand it.”

The Chenobies saluted, all turning to rush out. One to alert the maids into bringing his armor here. Others to prepare the rest of the Houses. Anyone who could fight, would.

Lord Atius watched. He knew he hardly had to even give the order.

And when he opened his terminal console to check on the current clan status, he already saw the hangars being activated and supplied.

Every box flickering on to green.

The signal spread out. All across. To the entire world at large.

And one goddess shrieked in blind and all-consuming fury as she heard the words.

The citadel. He was there. She would throw everything she had to execute him. Humanity will fall, and this would be their last gasp.

Far below, surrounded by a graveyard of dead machines and broken Feathers foolish enough to be tempted by glory, a old madman held the last living Feather by the throat.

HIs eyes scanned the dying target, internal scanners testing the composition and identifying who he held.

A conclusion came. “You are not Urs.” He rasped.

“Unhand me thi-”

He crushed the throat, already forgetting the encounter. The next sector hadn’t been explored yet according to his internal systems.

He dropped the limp enemy, then walked to sit on a granite block, waiting for his armor to recharge itself, feeding off his latent occult energy to recharge the cells back to full.

He’d long since taken the helmet off and left it behind. The messages and pleading it spoke in had never made sense to him.

But in the darkness, his grafts picked up a fleeting communication. A message, with root administration permissions included.

Head bowed, staring at his feet, he allowed it to play within his mind. Listening in full.

He didn’t understand anything said. Words that made sense but slipped away from focus an instant after they were mentioned.

He did recognize one thing.

From the citadel. He will lead. Those words remained etched in his mind as all others fell away.

His eyes flickered blue. Internal systems were spooled up, calculating distances and a pathway through the teleportation network.

He had to go there. He had promised. Long ago.

The line clicked green. Course set to the Citadel. The time calculated in hours. All that was left was to walk the path.

To the Citadel.

To Urs.