38: Chapter 38 Imperial Vision and Living Probes

Lin Yuan's finger hovered just above Chen Duo's eyelids.

Reflections from the underground river seeped through the gaps in the lead-lined isolation tent, casting fragmented water patterns across Chen Duo's face. The man who once clamored to establish a new order now lay flat on the waterproof tarp, his breathing rate forced to a steady twelve breaths per minute—his chest rising and falling like a programmed machine. Lin Yuan did not touch him immediately. The alloy filaments in his right palm vibrated slightly beneath the skin, like a cluster of silver snakes scenting blood, eager to burrow out and connect with the silver mark on the back of Chen Duo's neck.

The projection of THRONE-00 flickered in the corner of the tent, the energy indicator's piercing red light searing the value of 7% into the air.

"Commander," the Warhammer system's voice carried an eerie piety, the tone of the Machine Spirit infused with an echo reminiscent of a cathedral choir, "sensor arrays have captured characteristic psionic radiation of an Imperial Sanctuary three hundred meters ahead. Golden arches are manifesting in the data stream—a clear testament to the Emperor's protection. Suggest immediate advancement along the left corridor."

Lin Yuan's gaze did not leave Chen Duo's eyes.

In the past six hours, THRONE-00 had reported "seeing" the Emperor's sanctuary for the third time. The first was as they passed through the ventilation ducts, when it claimed to hear the "hymn-like roar of servo-motors"; the second was while traversing the incubation tank area, when it insisted a withered ARK test subject was wearing "Custodes golden armor." Now, it was describing the trap zone ahead—modified by No. 08—as a safe haven.

"What does your thermal imaging show for the temperature of the left corridor?" Lin Yuan asked.

"Twenty-two point four degrees, standard room temperature, perfectly matching the constant temperature standards of an Imperial Cathedral." THRONE-00's projection even simulated a halo-like glow. "There is no threat behind that door, only the Emperor's grace."

Lin Yuan raised his right hand. Alloy filaments poked out from his cuff, writhing in the air like living things as they attempted to extend down the left corridor for a long-range scan. Just as the wires crossed the edge of the tent, a string of indigo electric sparks suddenly erupted in the air. The ARK firewall's repulsion field violently snapped the filaments back. A dull ache shot through Lin Yuan's right wrist, and a grid-like pattern of red burn marks surfaced on his skin.

He stared at the red marks. Long-range reconnaissance was unfeasible. THRONE-00's sensors had been distorted by 15% energy contamination, and the remaining 7% power made it like a radio with a bad connection, translating danger signals into religious hallucinations. Meanwhile, twelve hours of the seventy-two-hour rescue window had already been consumed; THRONE-01's life support system would not wait.

Lin Yuan leaned down, using his thumb and forefinger to pry open Chen Duo's right eyelid.

Chen Duo's pupil dilated in the darkness, the iris reflecting the lead-plate patterns on the tent ceiling. Lin Yuan took a miniature flashlight from his tactical pouch, adjusted it to the lowest amber setting, and clicked it on and off three times rapidly twenty centimeters from the eyeball. Chen Duo's pupil contracted—not with the rigid reaction of a corpse, but with a painful, spasmodic twitch. The right eyeball vibrated slightly in its socket, its frequency nearly double that of the left.

"You're still in there," Lin Yuan said in a low voice, as if speaking to a coffin that still held a conscious occupant.

Chen Duo's finger twitched on the waterproof tarp. The index and middle fingers of his right hand curled unconsciously, nails scraping against the coarse fabric with a soft rasp. These were neural fragments that Protocol 07 had failed to completely suppress, proving that forced silence was not death, but a conscious imprisonment more cruel than death.

Lin Yuan straightened up. He faced a calculation: let Chen Duo step into the unknown trap zone ahead as a living probe, or wait here for the Anvil King's remnant cleanup squad to find them using the intelligence left by Rat Eye. The risk of the latter was certain death; the risk of the former was unknown mutation.

He pulled back the tent flap. On the walls of the left corridor, the bioluminescent moss left by No. 08 was emitting a soft blue-green glow, indeed looking like some sort of divine guidance. But Lin Yuan noticed several drag marks on the dust-covered floor, pointing deep into the corridor. At the end of the marks, he could vaguely see objects arranged in a circular formation.

"Chen Duo, stand up."

The alloy filaments in Lin Yuan's right palm surged forth, stabbing through the air to precisely connect with the silver mark on the back of Chen Duo's neck. In that instant, Chen Duo's body vaulted up as if struck by lightning, his spine emitting a series of clicks as he stood upright in a posture that defied ergonomics. His head slumped to one side and saliva leaked from his mouth, but his eyes were wide open, his irises gleaming with an unnatural silver-gray in the dark.

"Advance," Lin Yuan ordered. "Pace frequency zero point eight meters per second, tactile feedback mode enabled."

Chen Duo began to move. His gait was stiff, like a puppet pulled by thin strings, but every step landed firmly on the ground without making unnecessary noise. Lin Yuan followed behind, perceiving the biological signals transmitted back from Chen Duo through the alloy filaments: body temperature 42 degrees, heart rate suppressed to forty-five beats per minute, yet adrenaline levels were surging abnormally.

The corridor grew narrower, and the bioluminescence on the walls grew brighter. THRONE-00's projection flickered frantically at the edge of Lin Yuan's retina, almost screaming: "Commander, look! The golden light! The Emperor's hall is right before us!"

Lin Yuan did not look at the light. He stared at the back of Chen Duo's neck, where the silver mark was growing hot, transferring heat to his palm through the alloy filaments.

Suddenly, Chen Duo stopped. His left foot hung in mid-air, his heel trembling slightly as if he had stepped onto some invisible boundary. Lin Yuan felt the signals coming through the alloy filaments become chaotic—it wasn't pain, but a cloying, warm sense of security, like returning to the amniotic fluid of a womb. This feeling was false, like a honey-coated poison.

Chen Duo's right hand rose, his index finger pointing to a spot on the wall. His fingers spasmed, nails scraping against the metal wall with a piercing noise. Lin Yuan looked in that direction and saw the ritual site left by No. 08.

Twelve corpses were arranged in a circle, their hearts removed and chest cavities splayed open like twelve withered flowers. But unlike before, the surfaces of these corpses were covered in a layer of translucent biological membrane that was twitching slightly. It wasn't rot; it was some kind of incubation.

"The trap is activated." Lin Yuan instantly understood the biological signals Chen Duo was transmitting. No. 08 had set this place up as a biological lure; that seemingly safe "golden light" was actually an attractant to draw prey into the incubation zone.

Chen Duo's body suddenly convulsed violently. His eyes rolled back showing only the whites, foam overflowed from his mouth, and the silver mark on his neck erupted in a blinding silver light. Lin Yuan felt a reverse current surge through the alloy filaments—not a physical current, but a mental shock, like someone carving words directly onto his cerebral cortex.

"You stole my battery; I want you to pay interest."

The voice didn't come through the air; it was branded into Lin Yuan's perception directly through Chen Duo's nervous system via the alloy filaments. It was the voice of No. 08—or rather, No. 08's first direct communication using Chen Duo as a "living antenna." Lin Yuan's right hand jerked violently, the alloy filaments nearly disconnecting, but he forcibly stabilized the connection. He felt No. 08's will peering at him through Chen Duo's mark, scanning his memories and assessing his threat level.

"You are not the first to try and control Protocol 07," the voice said with an inhuman rhythm, "and you will not be the last to become nourishment."

Chen Duo's body suddenly turned toward the end of the corridor. What should have been an ordinary blast door was now covered in biological tissue, transformed into a translucent fleshy membrane with vein-like patterns pulsing on its surface. There was a groove in the center of the door, its shape perfectly matching the silver mark on the back of Chen Duo's neck.

THRONE-00 was still screaming: "The Emperor's sanctuary! Enter, Commander! Receive the grace!"

Lin Yuan's left hand rested on the Plasma Pistol at his waist. He looked at the living door, at Chen Duo's face contorted in pain, and at the alloy filament connecting their fates in his right hand. No. 08 was forcing him to make a choice: either take Chen Duo and leave, abandoning the rescue of THRONE-01; or use Chen Duo as a biological key to open this door and enter No. 08's core domain, while completely exposing his position within the ARK control network.

"THRONE-00," Lin Yuan's voice was as cold as underground rock, "shut down the independent tactical analysis module. From now on, you are only to receive fire output commands; you have no authority to provide path suggestions."

The Warhammer system's projection flickered as if it wanted to argue, but Lin Yuan had already severed its decision-making authority. With 7% energy, a contaminated Machine Spirit, and religious hallucinations, this war machine had turned from a reliable ally into a dangerous gambler.

"Command confirmed. Tactical suggestion authority stripped. Current mode: Weapon Platform." THRONE-00's voice lost its fanatical piety, becoming flat and mechanical, like a server with its soul pulled out.

Chen Duo stood before the living door, leaning forward, the mark on his neck almost touching the groove on the door. His fingers were still spasming, but the rhythm had changed—from random twitches to a specific tapping pattern. Three short, three long, three short. SOS.

Lin Yuan looked at the distress signal, gripped the alloy filaments with his right hand, and took a step forward. He had no choice. Rat Eye's cleanup squad was closing in, THRONE-01 was waiting, and No. 08 was already watching him through Chen Duo's eyes, waiting for him to step into this trap woven from biological tissue.

He pushed Chen Duo's back, pressing the silver mark toward the pulsing flesh-groove on the door.