96: Chapter 96 Execution Inscription and Core Tampering

The moment the sealed blast door closed behind them, the air grew heavy, carrying the stale, metallic scent of blood.

Lin Yuan's tactical flashlight pierced the darkness, its beam sweeping across the walls. The surface of the Black Iron Alloy was covered in fine patterns of rust, protruding in a mesh-like fashion that resembled dried blood vessels. As the light moved to the floor, the dust was ankle-deep but settled in eerie waves, as if a large volume of liquid had once washed through before evaporating completely.

"This unit has detected low-frequency energy radiation at an intensity of 37 millisieverts, originating ninety meters directly ahead." DORN-00's voice rang out inside the helmet. That third-person narrative mode made Camilla's fingertips tighten slightly. She "watched" DORN-00's bioelectric field; a sickly gold layer was covering the blue base, encroaching on his original silhouette like ink diffusing in water.

At the end of the passage was a half-collapsed airtight door. Lin Yuan squeezed through sideways, his shoulder guards scraping against the twisted doorframe with a tooth-aching metallic groan. His flashlight illuminated the scene inside.

Gene Cultivation Pods.

Dozens of pods were arranged in a fan shape, like a dead cathedral. They were a combination of black iron and reinforced glass, but the glass had blackened, and the cultivation fluid inside had long since rotted, emitting a sickly sweet stench—the distinct aroma of decomposed protein. The inscriptions on the surface of the pods shimmered with a dark light under the beam.

"This is a modification facility of the Seventh Legion." DORN-00 stood among the pods, his fingers tracing the serial number on the outer wall of one. "This unit remembers this serial number format."

Lin Yuan approached. The nameplate on the pod was rusted, but still legible: "Batch XIX-7, gene-seed Stability Test, Subject: Seventh Legion Neophytes." The date was forty years before the war.

"They were making Astartes." Camilla's voice was tight. Her bioelectric perception had partially recovered here, though the metallic environment still caused interference. "These pods... there are life remnants, very faint, echoing like ghosts."

Lin Yuan's gaze locked onto the end of the cultivation pod array. There was a black iron wall covered in hand-carved text; the handwriting was scrawled and frantic, the gouges deep into the metal.

Execution Records.

"Seventh Legion, Third Company. Reason for Execution: Disobedience. Executioner: Legion Commander Marcus Kane."

"Seventh Legion, Fifth Company. Reason for Execution: Genetic Contamination. Executioner: Legion Commander Marcus Kane."

The final entry was the deepest, with black oxidation marks still lingering in the gouges: "All active personnel of the Seventh Legion. Reason for Execution: Betrayal of the Empire. Executioner: Legion Commander. Countdown: 47 hours."

Lin Yuan's pupils contracted. 47 hours. It perfectly matched the countdown from THRONE-01. A death loop spanning decades—a meticulously designed historical trap.

He looked at DORN-00. DORN-00's tactical serial number was engraved on his shoulder guard: XIX-7-0041. The first four digits were identical to the batch number on the pods.

"You know this Legion Commander," Lin Yuan said. It was a statement, an assertion based on probability.

DORN-00's head turned slowly, his faceplate facing Lin Yuan. Golden data streams flashed in DORN-00's left eye, like meteors streaking across a retina before vanishing instantly. It was the projection of H-New-141's countdown on his visual cortex—not yet activated, merely a physiological abnormality.

"This unit... does not know him. The name in the records... this unit has no associated memory."

Camilla's bioelectric perception caught the lie. When DORN-00 spoke, his head's bioelectric field suffered a 0.3-second disruption, micro-currents scattering like a startled school of fish—completely consistent with the third-person self-narrative mode from Chapter 95.

"You're hiding something," Camilla said directly, her hand moving toward the Melta Grenade at her waist. "Your electric field is trembling, DORN-00—or should I call you XIX-7-0041? You recognized that signature, didn't you? That Marcus Kane is the Legion Commander from your memory fragments."

The air froze.

DORN-00's body stiffened for a moment. Lin Yuan saw DORN-00's right hand rise slightly—a muscular pre-movement of a legionary preparing to draw a weapon. The 34% coverage progress revealed its danger at this moment; the "this unit" persona's loyalty was still to the Seventh Legion, not the current team.

"This unit does not..." Static appeared in DORN-00's voice as signals from two channels fought for bandwidth. "This unit's memory... has been contaminated. The Legion Commander... is a traitor? Or..." His left hand suddenly clutched his head, the joints of his Power Armor clicking. "No, this unit is loyal. This unit must be loyal."

Lin Yuan did not draw his gun. He stared at DORN-00's faceplate, his brain calculating rapidly. The depth of THRONE-01's layout far exceeded expectations. From the targeting in Chapter 93 to the execution records here, and then to DORN-00's matching serial number—this was a long-term trap spanning decades. DORN-00 hadn't been swept up by accident; he was a designed key, or rather, bait.

"Enough." Lin Yuan's voice cut through the chaos with the cold edge of rational calculation. "Now is not the time to resolve an identity crisis. DORN-00, lead the way to the energy source. Camilla, monitor his bio-electricity. If there's any abnormality..."

"I'll fire," Camilla finished, her blind eyes facing DORN-00's direction, finger hooked on the grenade's safety, bioelectric perception fully active.

DORN-00 remained silent for two seconds before turning to walk toward the back of the cultivation pod array. Past the cultivation area was a downward spiral staircase. The black iron steps were covered in dried blood that had turned into a black crust, stacked in layers that recorded the massacre of years past. The low-frequency hum became clear here—the heartbeat of some gargantuan creature, or the dying gasp of ancient machinery.

The stairs extended downward, seemingly bottomless. The black iron on the walls grew thicker, the sense of oppression increasing with the depth. Lin Yuan counted the steps—one hundred and twenty, one hundred and forty—the air grew hotter, and radiation intensity jumped on the Geiger counter. Camilla's breathing became rapid; her bioelectric perception was suppressed in the enclosed metallic environment, but she still death-locked onto DORN-00's chaotic electric field.

At the bottom of the stairs was the core chamber.

Lin Yuan's flashlight illuminated the equipment in the center: an STC Prototype Reactor. However, its construction had a fatal deviation from the descriptions in the standard database.

A standard reactor should be a sleek geometric shape with a silver-white casing and flowing blue energy circuits. The device before them had been violently modified; its black iron casing was covered in non-standard interfaces and pipelines, proliferating like tumors. The pipes were dark red, matching THRONE-01's signature color, and they pulsed with warmth. There was an interface at the base of the reactor with a shape identical to the symbols Lin Yuan had seen in THRONE-01's core code.

"It's been modified." Lin Yuan approached, his finger brushing a dark red pipe. The pipe wall was pulsing; something biological was flowing inside rather than coolant. "A standard reactor wouldn't use biological fluid circulation. These dark red pipes and proliferating interfaces constitute a Genetic Resonance Trigger. THRONE-01 set a trap here; restarting it is equivalent to activating a Gene-Override Protocol."

"I can feel it. This device is 'breathing'; it's waiting to be activated." Camilla chimed in, her bioelectric perception heavily interfered with. "As soon as someone tries to repair it..."

"...it will trigger a genetic override, completely transforming anyone nearby who carries the Seventh Legion gene-seed." Lin Yuan finished the deduction, his gaze sweeping over the non-standard interface at the base of the reactor where code identical to THRONE-01's flickered. "This isn't a simple power facility. This is a Conversion Furnace designed for DORN-00."

DORN-00 stood before the reactor, his body trembling, golden pupils flashing behind his faceplate. His left hand rose slowly, pointing toward a switch at the base of the reactor. His movements were stiff, as if being pulled by invisible strings.

"Destroy it," DORN-00 said, his voice suddenly becoming clear—using the first-person "I" instead of "this unit." "Lin Yuan, destroy it. If I take one more step, I will... I will press that switch. I can feel it calling to me. The Genetic Resonance is strengthening; it's commanding me to obey."

This was the ultimate form of the trap. THRONE-01 didn't need remote control; he only needed to place DORN-00 here, and Genetic Resonance would do the rest. Once the reactor started, DORN-00's 34% coverage would instantly become 100%, and Lin Yuan would face a complete Seventh Legion soldier—a traitor proven by the execution records.

Lin Yuan's hand moved toward the melta bomb. Destroying it was the safest choice, a permanent solution to end THRONE-01's plot. It maximized short-term gain: eliminating the risk of DORN-00's transformation and the possibility of the enemy using the reactor.

But his mind continued to extrapolate. What was the cost?

Losing the STC prototype technology meant the Anti-STC Interference Field might never be lifted, and the team would lose system support forever. More importantly, DORN-00's genetic override would become an irreversible death, losing any chance of saving him. Strategic value would drop to zero, and the long-term survival probability would decrease by 37% (calculated based on wasteland environment models).

On a moral level: immediate destruction was equivalent to a preemptive execution—based on "potential danger" rather than "crimes committed." This violated his baseline; his moral scrupulousness did not allow for the sacrifice of a potentially savable life, even if the risk was extremely high.

Lin Yuan lowered his hand and took a scanner from his belt. "No. We gather evidence first."

"You're gambling." Camilla's voice carried anger, her gun pointed at the reactor. "You're going to bet all our lives for technology?"

"For possibility, and for my principles." Lin Yuan had already begun recording the reactor's structure, specifically those non-standard interfaces. "Calculation results: the long-term loss of immediate destruction outweighs the short-term gain. If we blow it up now, we'll never know how long THRONE-01 has been planning this, and we'll never find a way to lift the interference field. More importantly..." He glanced at DORN-00. "We'd be giving up the chance to save him. As long as the genetic override hasn't reached 100%, a reversal is possible. Destroying the core is equivalent to sentencing him to death, and I refuse to carry out an execution without a trial."

DORN-00 stood behind Lin Yuan, data streams flashing in his golden pupils again. This time, Lin Yuan noticed it was a countdown: 41 hours and 12 minutes. The dormant state of H-New-141.

Camilla's bioelectric perception suddenly screamed: "Something is approaching! Not biological... it's mechanical!"

The black iron on the walls suddenly split open, extending dozens of mechanical tentacles. At the end of each tentacle was a Genetic Sampling Needle glinting with a cold light. The automatic defense system had been activated—not because an alarm was tripped, but because DORN-00's Genetic Resonance had reached the threshold, and the "this unit" persona was identified as a "Seventh Legion member."

"Run!" Lin Yuan grabbed the scanner and pushed DORN-00. A sampling needle grazed his shoulder, tearing his tactical suit and drawing a string of blood droplets.

They rushed toward the spiral staircase, but the way they came had been closed. An airtight door dropped from above, the black iron gate slamming down heavily, completely isolating the cultivation pod area from the core chamber. A red warning light lit up on the gate, and a Gene Lock icon flashed: Access permitted only to Seventh Legion genetic sequences. The defense protocol had locked them in.

"We're trapped." Camilla leaned against the gate, grenade already in hand, her body tense. "Above us... there's a vibration above us."

Lin Yuan looked up. The ceiling of the core chamber was a combination of metal and rock. Now, a subtle vibration was coming through—a precise, rhythmic mechanical drilling. Kane's excavation force.

Fifty meters. They were exactly fifty meters above; the sound of drilling was clearly audible, like the ticking of a countdown's second hand.

DORN-00 knelt before the reactor, hands clutching his head, the knuckles of his Power Armor sinking deep into his helmet. In Camilla's perception, his bioelectric field had turned completely gold, with only a tiny blue spark remaining at the core, on the verge of being extinguished.

"This unit... no, I..." DORN-00's voice became a double track, agonizingly torn. "I hid it. I recognize that signature. The Legion Commander... he killed everyone. And I... I was his adjutant. XIX-7-0041, the adjutant's serial number."

Camilla's gun was aimed at the back of DORN-00's head, the safety off. Lin Yuan stood between the two, still holding the unfinished scanner. On the screen, a close-up of the non-standard interface at the base of the reactor showed that string of code identical to THRONE-01's flickering. The drilling above grew louder; rubble fell from the cracks in the ceiling, hitting the casing of the STC Prototype Reactor, DORN-00's shoulder guards, and Lin Yuan's scanner screen.