The process isn't as smooth as we'd hoped. Figuratively speaking, we're trying to shoe a running horse using gold nails and an electron microscope for a hammer. At the moment we can't introduce any changes above level 4. Most tasks at hand can't be solved head-on. You can't imagine the lengths we've had to go to in order to create the Battle Golems' bunker. That demanded over five hundred micro actions that discreetly pushed the world in the right direction.
However, to our deepest regret, even this method seems to have developed quite a few faults. The required number of the pressure points keeps growing at a frightening rate, increasing the probability of both our error and of the higher beings' resistance.
Considering all this, the recent loss of three class-A installations looks especially humiliating. I am talking about the closed-off Dead Lands zone, including the 9A installation known as the Super Nova Temple and excellently mapped-out mithril deposits having the total weight of 317 tons (entry 18A in the classified inventory). That's not even counting the roughly hundred lower-class artifacts still in the lands that are now off limits to us.
According to our investigation, AI 4915/E who was officially introduced as the generate d territories' secondary tester responsible for the behavioral intellect of the implants' guards, stopped answering our status requests a few days ago. We tend to believe he went perma mode, then transferred his mind into a more powerful entity under his own control. We can only guess how the activated implant affected his own consciousness, but the fact remains that he has granted access to the object to the most undesirable individual in the whole of AlterWorld. No way that could be a coincidence as the player in question had in his possession an artifact that allowed him to restore the First Temple—a game scenario which wasn't at all previewed. And the nearest event that was supposed to solve several strategic problems at once, namely Obtaining the Heart of a Dark God, was only scheduled for the coming Christmas season.
The player has proved to be digitized which prevented us from checking his logs, but at least we've managed to recognize some residual traces of divine influence. It's possible that one of them, unable to restore the Altar on his own, generated a chain of events similar to how we create implants. Those are micro events: a mosquito biting you on the neck, a mob critting you, a waitress' cleavage distracting the object's attention for the 1.5 seconds necessary.
Whether the entity's objectives are limited to restoring the First Temple or they reach much further, we can't tell you right now.
Jan Kaevski, chief of the closed group.
Chapter Twelve
I gave the god a quick update on my adventures, then grassed on the sly-assed bag of bones. "You understand, don't you," I concluded, "that I need some mana flow even if only to clear up this mess," I pointed around me at what I remembered to be piles of junk.
The Fallen One studied the gleaming white decor with skepticism, raising a quizzical eyebrow at all the gilding and artwork. Embarrassed, I showed him my filthy hand smeared with the divine blood. "That's all Macaria's work! Outside, the place is a bomb site. The castle is in ruins and so is the Temple."
I started unbending my fingers. "Firstly, I need to restore the castle walls and the temple grounds. Then I'll need to explore the lands and ensure my own safety. Thirdly and lastly, the baby dragons on the North Tower are starving and need to be fed. There must be more, only I can't think of everything at once."
"That's enough," he shrugged off my arguments. "I know about Tianlong. You can't miss him: his lair is absolutely impenetrable to magic. But one-tenth of my altar for eternity—that's a bit thick! Next time you sign up for something stupid like that, at least cross your fingers behind you back. That way your karma cooldown will be less in case you renege on your word. Your contract is questionable in many respects so one could easily circumvent it, especially considering my training: I've made my way through a good hundred thousand manuals of which over two hundred are legal tomes. But... Dragon is our man, if you can say that of a skeletal Elf god. Attracting him to our camp is a number one task. Okay, wait here, I'll see what I can do."
He glanced at the goddess. With a warm smile, he rearranged the ripped shirt on her chest. Perfectionist! He could have restored it had he really wanted to. He snapped his fingers. The girl's body disappeared, on its way to some heavenly chambers awash with the sounds of panpipes. One more snap—and I stood there alone.
I looked around me. The hall was medically clean in its Greek beauty. The god had left, taking all the blood-stained DNA samples with him. What a shame. My inner greedy pig had been pulling at my jacket fighting to attract my attention, hinting that the miserable five vials were nothing compared to a cozy wine cellar stacked up with more of the same.
Okay, what next? I checked my virtual to-do list and grinned. Freebies!
There's a time to cast stones and a time to gather them, I said to myself as I reached into my bag for the Soul Stone containing the Hell Hound. I wiped it clean with my sleeve.
"I've taken good care of you. I haven't wasted you stupidly. So please don't let me down."
I placed the stone onto the altar's mirrored black top and stepped back, just in case. In the nick of time.
My ears resounded with a powerful blast. A portal window materialized over the altar, allowing me a glimpse into the depths of the Inferno: it glowed every shade of crimson, lava flowing unhurriedly amid the strangely formed piles of basalt rocks.
Judging by the flames, the atmosphere there was thinner, causing oxygen to burn faster than the weird-looking Hell flora could produce it. Air gushed into the portal, trying to level out the pressure and pulling in everything within its reach. Like myself, for one. It was a good job the portal had a short-impulse structure. Had it lasted a bit longer, I'd have had every chance to enjoy the afterlife sooner than expected.
It all finished very quickly: with a double popping sound, the portal opened then closed again, with me clutching at thin air, my back a strangely convoluted shape. Talk about a lucky miss.
I switched my focus to read a new quest message:
Quest completion alert: Hell's Temptation. Quest completed!
Reward: Access to quest Hell's Temptation II.
Oh. My inner greedy pig opened and closed his mouth, speechless with indignation. Hadn't he had enough freebies? They kept coming faster than we could sort through them. A new quest was a very good thing: the further the unique chain of quests took us, the heftier the prize at the end of it. Consider the lost stone an investment, I told my greedy alter ego before closing the message. Underneath it, I discovered another one:
Congratulations! You've learned a new skilclass="underline" Portal to Inferno.
The connection between a necro wizard and an imprisoned soul is so great that the stone that holds it becomes a flashing beacon calling him. The portal, this smoothed-out fold of matter that covers the rupture to a different plane, cannot conceal from you the crystal's true light. From now on, you can always open the portal leading to the dark depths of Inferno and keep it open for as long as is needed.