Chapter 57 - The Wall That Looked Back

Haklısın! Bu bölümde de kare parantez içinde sistem mesajları var ([Compatible Soul Architecture Detected.], [Acquisition Sequence Initiated.], [Unfinished Vessel] vb.) ama önceki bölümlerde yaptığımız gibi bunları Markdown tablolarına çevirmemiş, düz metin halinde bırakmışım.

Hemen bu yanlışı düzeltiyorum. Metnin hiçbir kelimesine dokunmadan, sadece içindeki tüm sistem mesajlarını ve bildirimlerini o şık tablolara dönüştürerek eksiksiz haliyle hazırladım:

Ön Söz

Hey everyone! Thank you so much for reading and for all the eagle-eyed feedback. Hope you enjoy the chapter, and let me know what you think in the comments!

The wall behind them opened its eyes.

Not two.

Dozens.

Pale membranes split along the organic seams of the chamber, revealing wet black centers that turned without pupils.

Every one of them found Etzel.

Then Mireth.

Saeva made a small sound and disappeared behind Etzel’s shoulder.

“That,” Etzel said, raising his spear, “is deeply unpleasant.”

DK drew the Hellscript Greatblade.

Lysa did not laugh.

“Don’t attack the wall.”

Etzel glanced at her.

“It has eyes.”

“I can see that.”

“Eyes on walls usually lower my threshold for violence.”

“They’re sensors.”

Mireth tilted its head.

“For what?”

Lysa looked at it.

“You.”

The chamber pulsed.

The message remained in Etzel’s vision.

Then another line formed beneath it.

Etzel stopped joking.

“DK.”

The Greatblade came up.

“I know.”

The eyes closed.

The floor moved.

Not cracked.

Moved.

Pale strands ripped free of the stone and snapped toward Etzel and Mireth.

DK intercepted the first wave.

Hellscript burned across the blade.

One swing.

Black-red force tore through the strands.

The severed ends did not bleed.

They screamed.

Not through air.

Through Soul Space.

Etzel’s knees nearly buckled.

Saeva cried out.

The unnamed light inside him flared so violently that his vision whitened.

Mireth staggered too.

For one strange second, Etzel felt something that did not belong to him.

Cold.

Dark.

Pressure.

A thousand unfinished impulses pushing toward a shape they had never reached.

Then the connection vanished.

Etzel sucked in air.

“What was that?”

Lysa stared at the cut strands.

“They’re linked.”

“To what?”

“All of it.”

That was not an answer Etzel enjoyed.

The corridor behind them sealed.

DK turned.

Stone had not moved.

Organic material had grown across the opening.

Fast.

Too fast.

“We are contained.”

Etzel looked at Lysa.

“You said not to attack the wall.”

“I also said it was dormant.”

“Your information is aging badly.”

Another pulse.

The alcoves opened.

One by one.

The things inside did not climb out.

They fell.

Humanoid shapes struck the floor on hands and knees.

Some had too many joints.

Some had none where they should.

A few possessed faces that looked almost human until they moved.

System recognition flickered.

Etzel stared.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to NovelPhoenix for the genuine story.

“Unresolved?”

Lysa backed toward the center of the chamber.

“They don’t have stable cores.”

“Can they die?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Finally, useful information.”

The first vessel lunged.

Etzel met it with the spear.

The point entered its chest.

No resistance.

Too easy.

Then the thing folded around the shaft.

Its arms wrapped toward Etzel.

He released the spear before it could trap him.

Saeva flashed past.

A green barrier struck the vessel sideways.

DK’s blade finished it.

The body split.

Something pale rose from the wound.

A thread.

No.

A fragment.

Etzel’s System reacted.

The fragment turned toward him.

Limited Necromancer responded before he did.

Etzel froze.

The fragment shot toward his chest.

Mireth caught it.

Not with a hand.

Its entire forearm opened into black filament and enclosed the pale light.

Both colors twisted together.

Mireth jerked.

“Release it,” Etzel said.

Mireth did not.

“Mireth.”

“I hear it.”

The construct’s voice had changed.

Too many tones underneath.

Etzel stepped closer.

“What does it say?”

Mireth looked at the light trapped inside its arm.

“Nothing.”

“Then what do you hear?”

“Wanting.”

The fragment pushed harder.

Mireth’s body trembled.

Then it opened its hand.

The pale light escaped.

It flew toward the ceiling.

One of the wall-eyes opened.

The fragment vanished into it.

The entire facility pulsed.

Lysa went pale.

“It recycles them.”

Etzel recovered his spear.

“Then we stop feeding it.”

Three more vessels attacked.

This time they knew where the spear was.

The first moved around Etzel’s reach.

The second went for Saeva.

The third ignored all of them and charged Mireth.

Etzel saw the pattern.

“They’re prioritizing compatible targets.”

DK drove a shoulder into one vessel and pinned it against the wall.

“Meaning?”

“Me and Mireth.”

Mireth caught the third by the throat.

It could have crushed it.

Instead it looked at Etzel.

“The fragment will return.”

“Yes.”

“If I destroy the body.”

“Yes.”

“Then killing it helps the facility.”

Etzel smiled despite everything.

“You’re learning.”

“I dislike the lesson.”

“Also learning.”

The vessel clawed at Mireth’s face.

Mireth’s new features tore.

It stared at the damage.

Then slammed the creature into the floor without killing it.

DK understood.

“Immobilize.”

“Exactly.”

The fight changed.

No killing.

Harder.

DK broke limbs without finishing targets.

Etzel used the shaft of his spear, joints, leverage, terrain.

Saeva shielded openings and pulled vessels off balance.

Mireth adapted fastest.

Filament wrapped wrists.

Ankles.

Necks.

Not tight enough to kill.

Within a minute, six vessels lay restrained.

The wall stopped producing more.

Etzel breathed hard.

“Good.”

Lysa looked toward the sealed corridor.

“No. It’s thinking.”

“Can we stop saying things like that?”

A new message appeared.

Etzel’s expression fell.

“Of course.”

The restrained vessels convulsed.

All at once.

Their bodies collapsed inward.

Not dead.

Dissolving.

Pale fragments tore free.

Six.

Then twelve.

Each body had contained more than one.

The fragments did not return to the walls.

They rushed Etzel.

Saeva moved first.

A green barrier formed.

The fragments passed through it.

“Spiritual!” Etzel shouted.

Too late.

One entered his chest.

Soul Space exploded.

Etzel fell.

He was no longer in the facility.

He was standing in rain.

Not his rain.

Someone else’s.

Small hands.

A mother’s voice with no words.

Warm bread.

Fear.

A door closing.

Then nothing.

The memory ended before the person inside it had ever become a person.

Another fragment struck.

Snow.

Pain.

A name almost remembered.

Nothing.

Another.

Darkness.

Hands around a throat.

Nothing.

Etzel screamed.

DK’s voice came from far away.

Saeva.

Mireth.

He could not answer.

Inside Soul Space, the Nascent Soul Pattern moved.

The unnamed light expanded.

Not consuming the fragments.

Sheltering them.

Etzel understood with sudden horror.

“No.”

The fragments gathered around it.

Dozens of unfinished memories.

The tiny soul he had protected opened itself to them.

Etzel forced himself inward.

The unnamed light trembled.

He remembered the first word it had given him.

You.

Not me.

Not a stolen name.

You.

“Don’t take them.”

The light pulsed.

The fragments pressed closer.

“They aren’t yours.”

Another pulse.

Etzel felt resistance.

Then the unnamed soul pushed.

Every fragment flew outward.

Not destroyed.

Rejected.

Etzel opened his eyes.

He was on the floor.

Saeva had both hands against his face.

“Etzel.”

“I’m here.”

DK stood over him, Greatblade moving in controlled arcs through strands descending from the ceiling.

Mireth was on one knee.

Pale light crawled beneath its black filament skin.

Too much.

“Mireth.”

Its head snapped toward Etzel.

Multiple voices came from its mouth.

“I remember a daughter.”

Etzel went cold.

Mireth looked at its hands.

“I do not have a daughter.”

“No.”

“I remember dying in a river.”

“You didn’t.”

“I remember—”

“Mireth.”

The construct stopped.

Etzel crawled closer.

“They’re not yours.”

Mireth’s damaged face turned toward him.

“How do I know?”

The question from before.

How do I know my wants are mine?

Now worse.

How do I know my memories are mine?

Etzel had no System answer.

So he gave Mireth the only one he had.

“Because you remember falling when you learned to walk.”

Mireth went still.

“You remember the first wind on your body.”

The pale light beneath its skin slowed.

“You remember choosing not to kill that predator.”

Slower.

“You remember going somewhere I had never been.”

Mireth’s own voice returned.

“It was mine.”

“Yes.”

The foreign memories pushed.

Mireth clenched both hands.

Black filament tightened.

One pale fragment emerged from its chest.

Then another.

Then another.

It expelled them.

The fragments hovered.

The wall-eyes opened.

Before they could return—

Saeva screamed.

Not in fear.

Command.

The little Wispkin spread both arms.

Green light filled the chamber.

The Nascent Soul Pattern answered from inside Etzel.

For one impossible instant, every fragment stopped.

Lysa stared.

“What did she do?”

Etzel did not know.

System text formed.

“Four seconds!” Etzel shouted. “Move!”

DK did not ask where.

He attacked the sealed corridor.

Once.

Twice.

The organic barrier split.

Lysa ran.

Etzel grabbed the injured Hunter they had found earlier and hauled him toward the opening.

Mireth followed.

Saeva remained behind.

“SAEVA!”

She turned.

The fragments began moving again.

Etzel reached for the Soul Link.

Saeva shot toward him.

The fragments followed.

Mireth moved between them.

Black filament spread into a wall.

The fragments struck.

Mireth screamed.

But did not absorb them.

It held.

One second.

Two.

DK seized Mireth by the shoulder.

Etzel grabbed Saeva.

They crossed the broken barrier.

DK brought the Greatblade down on the structural seam.

The corridor collapsed behind them.

The screaming stopped.

For three breaths, nobody moved.

Then Mireth said:

“I hate memories.”

Etzel lay against the wall.

“Give them time.”

Mireth looked at him.

“That was a joke.”

Etzel blinked.

DK turned slowly.

Saeva smiled.

Etzel pointed at Mireth.

“No.”

The facility pulsed again.

Far below.

Lysa’s expression erased the moment.

“We need to leave.”

Etzel looked toward the deeper passage.

“Three Hunters are still missing.”

“One.”

Everyone turned.

Lysa’s face tightened.

“What?”

She looked down.

“Oren and Edgar were the only two still alive when I separated from the team.”

Etzel stared.

“You said four others.”

“The man you found outside didn’t know.”

“And you did.”

“Yes.”

“Who died?”

Lysa did not answer immediately.

“Marrek.”

“And the fourth?”

Her eyes moved toward the floor.

“Jonas reached the nest.”

Etzel understood from her face.

“That isn’t an answer.”

“No.”

“Is he alive?”

Lysa swallowed.

“I don’t know what he is.”

The System interrupted.

Then:

Etzel stopped breathing.

Lysa whispered:

“That will be Jonas.”

A second line appeared.

Then another.

Etzel looked toward the stairs descending beneath the facility.

Thirty-seven bodies.

One identity.

Mireth’s face became very still.

Etzel raised his spear.

“Now we know where we’re going.”