"I was not born to have faith, and yet I believe."-K-444There's something right behind you.---Read the previous threads at: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=False%20WomanYou possess an amount of Strain equal to your Conditioning score. When attempting actions beyond your current capacity, you gain a point of Strain. Attempting to Strain while at maximum Strain will result in a Strain Check. During a Strain Check, roll 1d10 for every point of the relevant Parameter. Results that are 6 or above count as one success. Results of 10 count as two successes. Three successes must be rolled to avert a critical failure. Fail or pass, after a Strain Check, you cannot Strain again until you restore your Strain by seeking shelter.This quest allows you to designate a second-choice vote on decisions with three or more options before Write-Ins. When votes are totaled, the option with the least votes for it will be removed, with votes for that option instead being changed to the second-choice of those voters. Second-choice votes are also used to break ties. This helps increase the accuracy of votes, but is not mandatory. Please specifically mark your second-choice as such if you do so.Vote stay open for a minimum of six hours, but will usually take longer.A note: My writing style is pretty dry, but don't mistake that for it being serious.
You purse your lips. The emergency safety equipment would be concealed in the walls, to prevent attackers or uninitiated serfs from taking it away from the actual adepts in an emergency- a serf exactly like you, as it happened. Besides, you didn't have so much as an electoo yet, much less any real graft, so it's not like you... would......would......wait.Hesitantly, you raise your hand. You grab the back of your neck, then slowly trace your fingers upwards. Everything that had happened had distracted you. First Korash's treachery, the ritual he had attempted, Iapetus' appearance, you'd forgotten what had happened when the daemon had been upon you. Though, you must have been delirious, imagining molten brass burning through the back of your skull and into your head. There was no-There was something hard and metallic under your hair.You freeze. It was perfectly round, perfectly seamed against your skin, perfectly fused to it somehow. Even your fingernail didn't seem to get under the socket- and it was a socket. There was a depression inside of it which was deep enough it must penetrate beneath your skin, the interior formed from some kind of mesh with a sharp divot at the very center. Your finger moved up, and you found another plug touching it's edge, then another, and another- six in total, each slightly thinner than your finger, forming a cluster around a single large port that pushed so deeply into your head that it must surely have breached through your skull and into the deepest parts of your brain.You wince, squinting your eyes as the symbols that have been crawling at the edge of your vision push in more insistently. The images fed directly into your visual cortex by your implants, and the interface built into them.It was impossible. Your model simply did not come with such implants. It wasn't in the spec sheet, and you hadn't been modified. It should have been impossible...Turning your hand upside down, you knead your plugs with the back of your hand and knuckles, letting out a quiet wince at the pleasant feeling of them shifting against your flesh. An electro-graft. You had an electro-graft. Maybe even a full MIU. Composite link cables, capable of manifold connection under the right circumstances.Symbols flashed inside your mind, and you slid your eye beneath the lid to glance at a line of glowing binary.Mars-pattern Mind Impulse Unit +++ Manifold Ready.An MIU, then. You weren't sure what the rest of it meant.+Posi-+ A harsh squak came, buzzing into your ears. The sound tasted like hissing static, nerves and the tang of hot contactors. The words had a broken, interrupted double-meaning, beating between the pauses in the sequence of data. Data-tags spelling out queries, questioning, anger, fighting, peace.
>>6184465Your head jerked up. The figures were emerging from the haze more clearly. Red-robed and copper-limbed, they were assuredly skitarii, walking with their rifles braced out in front of them, helmet lenses scanning the stairway in front of them.+Positive contact. Neutral contact. Contact. Relations with handler adjusted-located. Callback at- callback at- The lead stammered out.“Hello? Skitarii?” You approach, nervously touching your ear. The words were pleasant, like a low murmur of static- but you weren't sure how you were hearing them. Was this too the fault of... your MIU?+THREAT.+ The other screeched and whirled on you. It raised it's rifle and pointed it at- not at you. At the skitarii in the lead. The one you were speaking to. +Threat... lost. Threat?+The lead skitarii turned it's head to the muzzle pointing straight at it. +Awaiting command directive.+ It turned it's head to you, then to the rear skitarii- a unit missing parts of it's cranial casing and a single arm, it's carapace marred with scratch marks. +Directive?++Directive?+ It turned to look at the other.+Directive?+ Which in turn looked back at the lead.+Direc...+ It let out a low murmur of static, then twitched slightly. There was a slight hiss of pumps within it, it's limbs tensing.Something loomed over your shoulder. Your neck started to prickle uncomfortably, and you took a step back as the skitarius jerked aggressively towards it's fellows, then back towards you. You felt fingers gripping your shoulder, and then the skitarius lunged.You flinched, and the floor buckled. Pipes and cables and broken values streaming caustic fumes wrenched out of the floor, shattering the stone and bending, twisting around, forming an odd pillar that wrenched itself to the side, smashing itself into the skitarius' chest as it lunged towards you, sending it careening back. In an instant, it was clawing at the mass of metal, clawing away at it furiously- in fact, far more desperately than it truly needed to. The pipe was already tearing and twisting away, but the skitarius thrashed on the floor as if it was being dismantled.It's fellows stood dumbly at it on the floor as you backed away, then the only other undamaged one twitched.You threw yourself up the stairs as it threw itself upon it's fellow, gripping it's robe and tearing into it, letting out a bray that sounded like a recording of an animal, blasted through subdermal speakers loud enough to make your teeth vibrate oddly. Gunfire erupted as you made it to the top of the landing, throwing yourself over the top of the stairs and crawling away on your hands and knees, chest dragging across the tile, small puffs of dust erupting from the next flight as stray bullets struck.A responding cry echoed from the next landing, and the one below you. More skitarii.
>>6184466Eyes burning with smoke, you lurched to your feet and began running up the stairs, sparing a glance behind you. One of the two struggling skitarii was dead, sparking and smoking, as if every component of it's body had spectacularly failed at once. The one-armed one's rifle was still raised as it's torso, the end of it's barrel trailing a thin wisp of smoke, but it's eyes were trained directly up, on you.You hit the next landing and whirled around the stairs, taking them two at a time. The effort made you body suddenly burn, and you coughed as you were forced to inhale deep lungfuls of smoke. You felt spent in a way you hadn't before, but you forced yourself to keep moving. One flight became two, then four, then six. Shadows flicked past you at each landing- more skitarii, you weren't sure, but you also weren't able to see, the smoke becoming thick enough that you could barely see a few steps in front of you.Footsteps were clattering from behind you as you fell to your knees, struggling for air. You glance up and notice the landing is different from the others, lacking a large door into one of the temple floors. Quickly, you count the number of flights you'd gone up. Thirty seven and a half. That should put you on-You lunge for the side of the landing, running your hands along the wall, digging your fingers into the polished stone until you found a seam, which you followed down and to the left. You found the crank, twisted it and wrenched the door open with effort. Immediately, cleaner air hit you in the face just before hot smoke began rushing past you, being sucked into the passage. No time to worry about letting smoke into the passage, you slide through as soon as the gap is wide enough.The slap of your boots against stone instantly turns to the muffled thud against the plascrete corridors, mixed with sudden clatters where there were access grates in the floor. You scramble around a corner, your dress suddenly rippling in a new breeze. They had followed you in.Around one corner. Then another. You kept track of the turns carefully, referencing your mental map of the maintenance corridors. You needed to ensure you didn't back yourself into a dead-end corridor. There were many, and worse the maps were frequently incorrect on which ones were and weren't, as new labs had been erected and bisected passageways, or sealed off due to disuse.You heard a loud clatter around the next corner, and you stumble to a stop. Someone heavy and metal-footed was walking down the corridor in front of you. They'd turn the corner any second now. You mentally reference your map again, trying to find a new route, and-
>>6184467A pair of hands grabbed you from behind and gently yanked you back into darkness. The dimly-lit corridor became visible through only a small square of light, but a second later it vanished behind a door with a slitted grate. A figure leaned in, holding up a finger to their lips as he peered at the grate, then turned and threw a cloak of some kind over you.“Quiet.” A warm, deep voice murmured.>"Buddy?">"Lovelace?">"Skitarii have advanced predator sense. A wall won't hide us.">Be quiet.>[Write-In]
>>6184468>>Be quiet.
>>6184468>Be quiet.
>>6184468>Be quiet.>Investigate the cloak.Seems like a good time to distract the analytical mind. Also worth saying this machine spirit of the titan ruining all the skitarii that threaten Leb is absolutely mental.
>Be quiet.Writing.>>6185852I have no idea what you're talking about.
>>6186782nevermind then. It seemed like Lebesnati would be panicking, and autistically focusing on the cloak might help chill her out.
Bentus, it's been a while. So I need to ask again. COADE when?
>>6186794It could be. Like I said, I have no idea what you're talking about. :)>>6188363WHEN I GET THE MILK.I'm probably going to need a good few months to recharge after this wraps up, and I have a non-quest project I'd like to work on between this and COADE 2. Questing has given me a lot of experience on what my limits are as a writer and the sorts of projects I can reasonably expect to finish without burning out, so if I get it started this year, I expect I'd finish it and be onto COADE 2 within the year.
You go still, your ear pressed awkwardly against cloth- probably the man's chest. The cloak he had thrown over you didn't feel like enough to protect you from the gaze of the skitarii on the other side of the door. It likely had integrated auspex, advanced preysense- even if it literally couldn't see through walls with atomsense, it could definitely sense the radiant heat of your bodies. Unless, perhaps... heat-resistant material? Auspex absorbing material? Cameleoline?There was a distant rumble, the floor vibrating softly beneath your boots. The smell of flame and smoke hadn't reached into these ducts yet, but there was a persistent tang to the air that you couldn't quite place. Chemicals and perhaps flame that had quickly sputtered out. Burst pipes, perhaps? The place certainly felt warmer than usual....these thoughts were getting you nowhere. You wish that you were tall enough to see through the grate, but also you could do was strain for the heavy footfalls of the skitarius moving on.After some time, the man finally dropped his arm and the cloak. “Close one.” He said, lifting the shutter on the grate to peer out, then turned to you. “How you doing, A-4?”“...Buddy?” You blink.“The one and only, yeah?”>"What are you doing up here?">"How did you...?">"...some kind of synskin?">"...do you even realize what's happening right now?">"I'd like to get you up to speed, but we don't have time for that. We have to get out of here.">[Write-In]
>>6192080>>"How did you...?">>"I'd like to get you up to speed, but we don't have time for that. We have to get out of here."
>>6192080>"What are you doing up here?">"I'd like to get you up to speed, but we don't have time for that. We have to get out of here."
>>6188794I CAN'T WAIT ANY LONGER BENTUS
>"What are you doing up here?">"I'd like to get you up to speed, but we don't have time for that. We have to get out of here."Writing.>>6193231YOU'RE DOWN FOR TIIRIS THAT BAD? I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER USING THIS PICTURE.
>>6194924NO THAT'S JUST SOMETHING I FOUND ON THE INTERNET. YOU'LL GET MORE WHEN YOU COME BACK.
“What are you doing up here?” You step back so you can properly see the man's face. “Do you even know what's happening?”“Oh, I couldn't possibly leave without giving my farewells.” Buddy nodded at the wall as if that explained anything. “And clearly, you're in trouble.”“You couldn't have possibly know it was me.” You say flatly. “It was a blind corner.”“Oh I only had a glimpse, but you're a..." He paused and gave you an appraising look. "...pretty recognizable person."“I know I don't look like most techpriests.” You reply flatly.“Sure, that's what I meant.”“...whatever.” You shake your head. “Look, we need to... no, there's no time to get you up to speed. We need to get out of here.”“Say no more, the rats will guide us.”You look up. “...what?”He turned on his heel with a determined look, sweeping his cloak back over one shoulder and striding to the other end of the small closet. “Hmm...” He knelt down, scanning the floor for something. “Yes, yes I see...” Then he turned, grabbed a nearby ventilation duct on the floor and yanked it off it's fitting. A violation of the Canticle of Maintenance, but you stop yourself from saying anything. He stuck his head inside the vent and looked around. “Excellent, I knew they'd never lead me astray. Follow me.”“...how would they do that, my lord?” You ask carefully.“Because they're clearly avoiding this vent." Buddy replied, laying himself down in all of his finery and casually shoving himself through the gap. “That means people on the other side. Follow me.”“Do we want-" You start, only for his fine leather shoes to disappear through the vent. You stare at the hole for a moment, glance at the door and sigh, then get down on your hands and knees.Thankfully, you were far smaller than Buddy was. Once you get down on the floor, you're able to see that it wasn't an entrance to internal ventilation like you thought it was, but instead a bridge vent between this small room and the corridor beyond, likely a relic of when this room was added in a refit. You have to press yourself flat against the floor, one hand awkwardly pressed against your front in order to get your torso through the hole. Once your waist was through, you were able to let go of your chest and grab the wall to slide yourself through the rest of the way.Your feet catch slightly on the hem of your gown as you move, and with each motion you make, your chest presses up past the lip of the vent, which results in you pushing yourself through more by an accidental attempt to stand up rather than intentionally moving your feet.“...that was a show.” Buddy held a hand down for you. “Physical exertion not your forte?”>"I'm a calculator engineered to perfection, not a K-series.">"Physical exertion isn't in my spec sheet.">"Do you find it unsuitable in a scribe?">"I'm sorry, has anyone tried to kill you today like they tried to kill me?">[Write-In]
>>6200538>>"Do you find it unsuitable in a scribe?">>"I'm sorry, has anyone tried to kill you today like they tried to kill me?"
>>6200538>>"Physical exertion isn't in my spec sheet.">>"I'm sorry, has anyone tried to kill you today like they tried to kill me?"
>>6200538>"I'm sorry, has anyone tried to kill you today like they tried to kill me?">[Write-In] "I can carry a standard ream of vellum indefinitely, as suited for my function. My fingers do not cramp from fine quill manipulation, and I am capable of balancing three tomes in my grasp at once." Said with pride, poor girl thinks she's an athlete.
>>6200926+1
>"I'm sorry, has anyone tried to kill you today like they tried to kill me?">[Write-In] "I can carry a standard ream of vellum indefinitely, as suited for my function. My fingers do not cramp from fine quill manipulation, and I am capable of balancing three tomes in my grasp at once." Said with pride, poor girl thinks she's an athlete.Writing.
You take his hand. “First of all.” Buddy grabs you by your waist and lifts you fully into the air, your feet leaving the ground briefly before touching back down. “I can endure the kind of physical exertion that would bring you to your knees. I can stand motionless for days, I can carry twice the standard gauge of vellum in my arms indefinitely, I can work with my hand for hours without cramping, whether that be writing, maintenance or sewing, and I can perform two dexterous tasks at once without a loss in focus. And secondly-”“Are you sure you're not meant for sex-”“AND SECONDLY-” You hiss, your voice growing louder. “They tried to kill me earlier! Has that happened to you lately?” You raise your hands up towards Buddy, though his shoulders weren't easily in reach, despite you desperately wanting to grab his lapels and throttle him for a moment. “They shoved me in a ritual circle and used it to summon a cogging daemon! Has that happened to you today? Has that happened to you ever?!”“Uh, no, it hasn't.” Buddy said. “...you wanna talk about it?”“I-” You sigh, then let go of his vest. “No, there's no time. I'll be fine.” You reach up and rub your temple with a sigh, your thumb going back to rub the skin around your cranial ports. “Where are we going anyway?”“That's the first genuine emotion I think I've ever seen out of you.”You glance at Buddy. “Even I can be overwhelmed. I'll compose myself.”“Fair enough, but ah...” Buddy gestures ahead. “Notice how there isn't a door behind us? Since you turned a corner, that means there's a passage behind us, but since this isn't connected to it, I'm betting it connects somewhere far and out of the way. Perfect for us, it'll probably pop out somewhere they're not looking for you.”“...better plan than I thought.” You glance around. “Okay, lead the way.”The passage narrowed considerably as you walked, often in odd directions- narrowing to the left, then to the right before opening up again, presumably making room for the spaces on the other side. There was exposed wire conduits and mounting brackets on the walls everywhere you looked- it seemed that Buddy was right that this was a space in the walls of the passage.Buddy fished out a stablight from his pocket, illuminating the passage as the light pouring out from the side panels became less and less helpful. You peer into the darkness, picking out the soft glow of a set of circuits on the wall, the back of the panel glowing gently. Buddy aimed the stablight onto it, and you saw a metal door next to a control shrine of some kind. You stop before it, Buddy gently dropping onto a knee and aiming the light upward as you peered at the panel. It was an older installation, likely done when the hive was relatively new, without much in the way of noospheric connection.
>>6204755There was a polite cough from behind you. “So, I know we don't have any time to explain, but... any hints on what we're up against here?">"Skitarii.">"The Archenemy.">"I met a space marine earlier if that makes you rest easier.">"I'm not sure what's happening anymore.">"Let me focus.">[Write-In]
>>6204756>>"Skitarii.">>"The Archenemy.">>"I met a space marine earlier if that makes you rest easier."Somehow, I think it will not.
>>6204756>"The Archenemy."
>>6204756>>"I'm not sure what's happening anymore."
Okay... I'm gonna call that as...>"The Archenemy."And... perhaps not being able to make up her mind as to the rest of it.
“The Archenemy.” You sigh, tapping a few of the command runes to no effect. “Maybe some others. The skitarii I was fleeing from, for instance. I don't know if they're corrupted, confused, just malfunctioning...”“I go to drop off some grapes and say my goodbyes and Chaos starts invading...” Buddy runs his hands back through his hair, not noticing how you reflexively flinched at his words. The rings on his hand make a soft clinking as they struck the gold bands woven into his dreads and he shakes his head with a sigh. “Little tip: when you make good friends, stick with 'em, okay?"“...that's your tip? ‘Don’t be a traitor'?"“Honey, would we be in this situation if that was obvious advice?”You spare him a glance, then turn your attention back to the console. “The relay is out...” You click your tongue as you press the power cycle rune to no effect. The key felt loose, clearly the contacts on the other side were not in place. “There isn't much I can do to cycle this from in here.”“Isn't there a manual switch somewhere?" Buddy asked, shining his torch down. “We are on the other side, aren't we? Ain't that a rule of the Rites of Operation and Repair or something?”“There... should be?” You agree, looking at the smooth floor where the door met the ground. “...where, though?”“I dunno, you're the techpriestess. Can't you get the panel working?”“I'm barely a technomat, and no, it's got no power, so the only way it's cycle is if somebody bridged-” You pause, then lift your hand up to the back of your head.>Go ahead, plug yourself in.>[Genolysis/Strain] Alright, stand back, buddy.>He's got a foot on you and all that muscle. Be your guest.>[Write-In]
>>6209046>[Genolysis/Strain] Alright, stand back, buddy.
>>6200926>Go ahead, plug yourself in.Surely a door wouldn't be affected by Chaos, SURELY.
>>6209046>>[Genolysis/Strain] Alright, stand back, buddy.
>>6209046>Go ahead, plug yourself in.
>Go ahead, plug yourself in.In this case, I'm not gonna roll off because there'll be a chance to circle around in a bit. Writing.
Daylight's savings time is weird. It landed me flat on my ass and I feel like it's only been a day since the clock's changed, but it's nearly been a week.
Your fingertips brush against the cool bronze hidden beneath your hairline.Perhaps you...Reaching out, you quest around the edges of the panel, feeling for something that should be there...Your fingers close around a metal protrusion, and you pull out a cable with a soft rasp from the spool as it unwound. It was thin, the jack slightly thinner than your pinky, pleasantly smooth and cool to the touch. It was exactly the same diameter as one of the smaller jacks in the back of your head...“You okay?” Buddy asked, shining the light slightly more towards you.“Fine.” You reply. “I'm just not used to doing this.” You take a deep breath, lift the plug up towards the back of your head and slide it into the back of your skull.It feels briefly cold for a second, the metal quickly warming from the heat of your skull, then it clicks home. An exact fit. You hiss at the feeling of the metal sliding into your skull, a part of you briefly tensing as if struck. Something metal was wrapping around the plug, an internal seal of some kind that kept the plugs clean. The discomfort was only brief, though a part of you braced for the plug-sickness- the waves of nausea and discomfort that could hit those inexperienced with the use of hard plugs. None came, though your eyes remained shut.In fact, you didn't feel any different.You peek an eye open. Was the terminal non-functional?The plug was correctly seated in your skull, it had clicked home, and when you tugged on the base experimentally, you could feel the retaining ring inside pull slightly, a queasy feeling roiling through your stomach- an impulse to you that it would automatically release the plug if any more force was exerted. How did you know that? You tried to remember if it was a part of your indoctrination. Your model was intended for cybernetic modification, this you knew, but you could not recall any specifics on the augmetics you were expected to retain as part of your position. That part of the scratching remained incomplete, the information not quite...Quite...You tilt your head. You could feel a scratching, not on your skin, but on the inside of your skull, just above your right eye. The scratch dances inside your mind, and you feel information to your right. You resist the urge to look to your right, though it was difficult not to render the concept into a physical sensation. It was to the right of your mind, something you were bridged to, outside of you. The panel.Closing your eyes again, you try to follow the scratching. You touch it, and it hums against you, pulsing with a life and rhythm of it's own, harmonizing with you at just the barest touch, like striking a glass to produce a note. A process of some kind. No, a spirit? Just as you access it and was recorded, it accessed you and was recorded in the same instant, a mutual exchange of information.
>>6213048You felt it's presence in your head, and you knew of it. It's operating history, it's pattern and serial number. It's sacred alignment as determined by the system time at it's cycle of installation and the imperfections noted by the enginseer who had performed the consecration. You knew that the internal cogitator did not register an access panel as part of it's hardware registry, nor had it ever- an improper installation. It was scheduled for a maintenance overview in two years, when this passage would next be opened for inspection.Pressing on the presence again caused it to vibrate in turn with you again, and as you pressed firmer, the information became clearer. You could feel the system beyond, and through it, doors, other panels...>Open the door.>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.>Probe deeper into yourself. Could you access your own augmetics as you had the panel?>[Write-In]
>>6213050>>Probe deeper into yourself. Could you access your own augmetics as you had the panel?
>>6213050>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.
>>6213050>>>Probe deeper into yourself. Could you access your own augmetics as you had the panel?
>>6213050>Probe deeper into yourself. Could you access your own augmetics as you had the panel?
>Probe deeper into yourself. Could you access your own augmetics as you had the panel?Writing.
You drew back from the network information. If it had been so easy for you to find out all of that just from brushing against the internal cogitator, then...Frowning, you push the panel from your mind and listen to yourself. You had also had your own rhythm and pulse when you brushed the panel's spirit, something that the panel had picked up on when you brushed it. Just the act of contacting it had told it something about you, so could you do the same...?You frown a little, your brow furrowing. It was harder to listen to yourself than it was to probe into the network. There was a sound to it, but it was your own thoughts- they had noise, to be sure, but it was the sound of... sound. Thoughts were thoughts. There was simply no other way to approach them- you couldn't just turn your gaze inward and look upon it as you wished.Or was that a lie you told yourself? The mind was not amorphous- not truly, it was imprisoned in neural matter and wires, but perhaps the encoding of your thoughts was less complex than you deluded yourself into thinking. It wasn't a question you felt qualified to answer. These were the sort of higher mysteries you had to seek the help of the magi to understand, not for someone like you who wasn't even supposed to have these implants yet.Nothing for it. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter, then carefully try to reach out to... yourself? It was hard to visualize. You weren't trying to navigate above or below or to the side, just... deeper in you. Within the walls of your own mind, as you went deeper and the singular point that you perceived as yourself resolved into more parts, like a person's face resolved into eyes and ears. You touched within you and-+++ PRAISE THE OMNISSIAH ++++++ Exloading... ++++++ Name: Mars-pattern Mind Impulse Unit ++++++ Ver: Mars-2-2.0.1 ++++++ Installation: M35.203:145:14:05:44 ++++++ Consecration: M36.985:020:16:16:16 ++++++ Coprocessor: Unknown mainframe system ++++++ Interfaces: Nihlus manifold lane, primus to sextus external lane ++++++ Owner: Assistant series, production run 4, no. 14 ++++++ Manifold ID: 00:00:00:54:49:54 ++++++ Noospheric ID: User registry is blank, flush plugs or reconsecrate system +++Your eyes flutter open, and you blink a few times as if you could blink the words out of your vision. They weren't actually in the way of your eyes, but you could feel the words inside you, bright and clear as day, being refreshed into your thoughts repeatedly by the system for as long as you needed them. You let them fade, pulling back from the source inside you.Some of the information was clearly gibberish, but considering the nature of- no, best not to think about it...
>>6218585Your mainframe was blank, but it was clearly a system error. If there truly was no mainframe, you wouldn't even be able to read this information right now, as the cranial circuitry in your head would be the mainframe for any implant system like these plugs. It was probably yet another error like the installation date...>Open the door.>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.>[Write-In]
>>6218587>>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.
>>6218587>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.
>>6218587>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.Interesting.. [Desire to know more] intensifies
>[Ritual Datasmith] Try to access the rest of the network.Wrrriting.
Sighing, you drag your perception outwards.Once again pushing to the side of your mind, you send an impulse through the panel's hardlatched connectors and to the next device along it's relay - a basic atmospheric regulator - then the next one after that - yet another access panel.Basic mechanisms such as this were too simple to all be individually chained to the noosphere, even to honor them. Instead, they would all be manually hardplugged to each other, forming a chain of simple devices much like the conduits that you had spent the last few weeks maintaining. At the termination point of the loop, the entire network would be plugged into a noospheric relay, providing remote access for the magi monitoring the network.You quickly found even moving from one device to another was a slow affair, each request taking entire nanocycles to process and then be sent along the relay chain back to the panel you were plugged into. And yet, your mouth was slowly twitching up into a little smile as you felt the humming of data within your m ind. In an instant, you were no longer in this small maintenance hallway, you were also in a security monitor on the other side of the door, slightly down the corridor from you and Buddy stood. It was fixed in place, showing nothing but bare hallway beyond the door.Moving to the side once again, you found yourself in another doorway panel, an automated pressure release door, then another monitor which displayed to you a separate hallway, with a sealed door in plain view. So it went, from one door to the next, access panels and simple life support regulators each arranged one after the other, forming a chain of no less than eighty devices, fifteen of which were security monitors. All in all, rather small for a network.What's more, you didn't see any sign of the skitarii on the camera, which could only be a good thing.>"Which way will we be going once I open this?">"No sign of them. Does that strike you as odd?">Open the door.>[Optional] Fail to suppress a grin.>[Sub-Option] Then pull your hood up to hide it.
>>6221638>"Which way will we be going once I open this?">[Optional] Fail to suppress a grin.
>>6221638>"No sign of them. Does that strike you as odd?">[Optional] Fail to suppress a grin.
>>6221638>"No sign of them. Does that strike you as odd?"
>"No sign of them. Does that strike you as odd?">[Optional] Fail to suppress a grin.Writing and... if I manage to not blink and wake up five days later, probably one more update before new thread.
>>6221638>"Which way will we be going once I open this?">[Optional] Fail to suppress a grin.>[Sub-Option] Then pull your hood up to hide it.
Archived: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6184463/New thread: >>6224195
>>6224196Whoops, we slipped down faster than ol' Benty thought, so new thread.
