72: Chapter 72 The Torn Agreement and the Corroded Church

Behind the hidden door was a vertically descending rusted staircase. A translucent biofilm covered every step, and as the tactical flashlight swept over them, they shimmered with a ghostly light like corpse wax. Lin Yuan stepped in first, the hydraulic systems in the feet of his Mark V Power Armor letting out a suppressed hiss. He lowered the output power, suppressing the noise to below forty decibels, though his movement speed plummeted by sixty percent. Camilla followed closely behind, dragging the medical pod. Chen Duo's breathing inside his mask was heavy and rhythmic, like an over-pressurized old bellows.

At the end of the stairs, a horizontally extending ventilation duct opened its wide mouth. The inner walls were covered in a translucent gel, resembling the esophagus of some giant creature or the solidified residue of nutrient fluid from a cultivation pod. THRONE-01 forced itself upright, its knee joint hydraulic seals making a sound like tearing fabric. Pale blue coolant dripped onto the metal floor, refracting cold light in the gloom.

"Thirty degrees to the front-left, duct wall thickness is two centimeters. Suggest switching to climbing mode."

Its voice was intermittent, the electronic tone mixed with the noise of metal scraping. The optical sensors flashed red and blue alternately; the Original Harvest Protocol and the Protection Protocol were battling within the logic layer.

Lin Yuan looked back at THRONE-01: "You don't need to move. Camilla can drag you."

"The Chamber of Commerce brought acoustic locators." THRONE-01's leg joints let out a harsh friction sound, each step leaving a viscous hydraulic oil stain on the ground. "If I stop moving, the pulse net will cover this node in fifteen seconds."

That machine was pushing itself to the limit. Kneeling at the bottom of the maintenance well was by no means a temporary malfunction, but a precursor to a core meltdown. It was using its collapsing body to fulfill the Protection Protocol until the original protocol tore it apart completely.

Camilla knelt beside the mobile medical pod, her fingers sliding rapidly across the holographic panel. The cold white light illuminated her tense jawline.

"Medical pod energy remaining: forty-seven percent. Nutrient fluid supports seventy-two hours. Ammunition count: two and a half magazines." Her voice sounded like metal scraping against a surface. "Brother's vital signs are stable, but the frequency of finger twitching has increased by fifteen percent."

As she spoke the last half of the sentence, her fingers unconsciously brushed against the medical pod's observation window, her movement as light as touching a fragile mirror.

"The twitching is a side effect of the neural backup."

THR-01-κ walked at the end of the group, its short body casting a distorted shadow in the dim duct. The massive optical lens that occupied two-thirds of its face emitted a faint blue light, its focal length constantly shifting as it recorded every data point.

"Bioelectrical dissipation from the writing of memory fragments—an acceptable level of loss."

Lin Yuan raised his left hand and pressed it against the duct wall. The moment his assimilation ability activated, a burning neural sensation surged from his fingertips into his arm. A Level 6 burn, more intense than the Level 5 in the maintenance well, felt like his brain was being seared directly on a branding iron. Something foreign mixed into the pain.

A memory fragment that didn't belong to him exploded without warning: white walls, the smell of disinfectant, a child's cultivation pod, and a pair of golden eyes looking at him through the glass.

It was his brother's field of vision.

But immediately after, even stranger data flooded in. A set of coordinates burned into his visual cortex: Sector-7-Delta-9, depth 127 meters, longitude... precise navigation instructions, like someone was carving words directly onto his motor nerves.

"Cough, cough."

Lin Yuan jerked his hand back, a rusty taste rising in his throat. He looked at THR-01-κ: "What is your observation signal frequency?"

"12.7 THz, standard frequency band."

The short humanoid entity tilted its head, the optical lens contracting its focus.

"What did you receive?"

12.7 THz. A frequency that completely overlapped with the whispered instructions. The neural whispers revealed their essence at this moment; they weren't random side effects but shared the same source as THR-01-κ's observation signals. While the observer recorded variables, it was also transmitting information to them. Or rather, THR-01-κ itself was the megaphone.

"The White House." Lin Yuan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, hiding the truth about the coordinates. "And memory fragments of the farm's Control Room."

He didn't mention the golden eyes. That was his brother's memory from the farm period, which was now polluting his cognitive boundaries through a neural mirror, making him unable to distinguish for a moment whether he was Lin Yuan or THR-09-Ω in the cultivation pod. More dangerously, those coordinates pointed to the deep layers of Sector-7, exactly in the direction of The Thirteenth unit THR-01-κ had just mentioned.

The duct vibrated violently, and a muffled explosion came from the distance, a blast of air carrying dust surging out.

"The Chamber of Commerce has broken through the second layer of the blockade." Camilla's hand moved to the bolter pistol at her waist. "Directional explosives. Estimated to catch up in eight minutes."

"Six minutes."

THRONE-01's sensor array flashed frantically, the red and blue lights nearly tearing the lens apart.

"They brought acoustic locators and portable electromagnetic pulse nets targeted at Power Armor servo systems. Also, original protocol identification codes targeted at me."

A red warning popped up on the tactical panel. THRONE-01's core temperature was rising rapidly; the conflict between the Original Harvest Protocol and the Protection Protocol had moved beyond logical confrontation and begun to erode its physical functions.

"The original protocol is attempting a reverse intrusion through the medical pod's neural link."

THRONE-01's leg joints suddenly locked up, then made a sharp sound of metal snapping as they were forced to unlock.

"It wants to complete the harvest. If the link isn't cut, the original protocol will devour his consciousness backup, turning him into a pure protocol carrier—a second THR-00."

The medical pod let out a sharp alarm. Inside, his brother convulsed, and the golden patterns on his neck lit up with a dangerous red light. That was the THR-09-Ω protocol interface being forcibly activated.

Camilla's expression changed, and she lunged for the control panel: "Backup progress is at eighteen percent! Cutting it now will lose all the data! He might stay in biological suspension forever!"

"If we don't cut it, he'll become a vegetable, or worse, a puppet of the original protocol."

Lin Yuan drew his melta blade, the edge glowing with an orange-red light.

"Compared to the integrity of consciousness, eighteen percent is the bottom line. I won't accept risking a relative's life for tool value."

Losing eighteen percent of the backup progress was a controllable risk, but losing the essence of humanity was an irreversible destruction. Stop-loss logic dominated this decision.

"Wait!"

THR-01-κ suddenly interjected, its optical lens rotating rapidly.

"There's an ancient trap twenty meters ahead, a gravity imbalance zone. If you stop to deal with the medical pod now, the Chamber of Commerce will force you into the trap. My calculations show you only have a ninety-second window."

Lin Yuan looked at the short humanoid entity: "Are you suggesting I abandon THRONE-01?"

"I am providing data."

THR-01-κ's voice carried a scholar-like indifference, forming a sharp contrast with THRONE-01's near-human anxiety.

"The decision-making patterns of variables in a crisis—whether to save the machine or maintain speed—is a key parameter I need to record. This choice is interesting."

It was testing Lin Yuan. Testing the behavioral boundaries of this variable in a moral dilemma.

"Camilla, take the medical pod and keep moving. Bypass the trap."

Lin Yuan's voice was as calm as if he were reading a balance sheet.

"THRONE-01, disconnect all neural links with the medical pod. A physical cut. Now."

"Understood."

THRONE-01's voice was exceptionally calm, as if it had finally been liberated from the tearing pain.

"By cutting the link, I will gain the freedom to bypass the logic locks. But I will lose synchronization with the medical pod. I will..."

"You will become a free machine spirit."

Lin Yuan crouched down, the melta blade hovering over the data cable.

"Make decisions with emotion, THRONE, not protocol. That is an order."

"Emotional decision-making..."

THRONE-01 repeated, the sensor light changing from alternating red and blue to a steady amber.

"It hurts. But it's very clear."

The melta blade swung down. The data cables at the back of the medical pod were neatly severed, sparks flying everywhere. His brother's convulsions stopped, and the red light on his neck went out.

THRONE-01 let out an electronic sound like a sigh, its sensors dimming instantly, and its leg hydraulic system letting out a final wail. It collapsed heavily, this time on both knees, completely broken down.

"Core meltdown-level damage. Permanent loss of leg function."

It reported, its electronic voice carrying an emotion it had never had before, sounding as if it came from a great distance.

"You... abandoned my protocol. But you preserved my machine spirit."

"Now you must learn to act with the pain."

Lin Yuan stood up and glanced at the tactical panel.

"Four minutes."

Dense metallic clanging came from the duct behind them as acoustic positioning rounds exploded against the walls. The piercing high-frequency sound waves filled the Power Armor's vision with static, causing a 0.3-second delay in the servo systems. The Chamber of Commerce was interfering first and then surrounding them for the kill, using professional tactics designed against Power Armor.

"Electromagnetic pulse net, contact in three seconds!"

Camilla shouted, dragging the medical pod toward the corner of the duct.

Lin Yuan picked up the upper body of THRONE-01. This half-ton machine felt frighteningly light now; its core had stopped active power supply, leaving only the machine spirit to sustain it. He dragged it forward in a sprint, hydraulic oil drawing intermittent marks on the floor.

The gravity imbalance zone was right ahead. The duct floor suddenly turned into a vertical cliff, showing a bizarre geometric distortion.

"Jump!"

He activated his jump pack, kicking off the wall at the moment of weightlessness. The counterforce sent him and THRONE-01 crashing into the opposite duct, while the pulse net that followed exploded at their original position, blue electric arcs jumping wildly and searing charred marks into the floor.

"Second pulse net, five o'clock! The Chamber of Commerce knows your movement patterns!"

Camilla provided covering fire from the corner.

Lin Yuan activated his assimilation ability again. The Level 6 neural burn turned the edges of his vision black, but he saw the bioelectrical signals flowing within the duct walls, the nodes hidden between metal and flesh, and the energy peaks that completely matched the whispered coordinates.

"There!"

He pointed at a protrusion on the duct wall.

"ancient maintenance hatch! Sector-7-Delta-9!"

THR-01-κ's optical lens flashed violently. It didn't speak, but Lin Yuan knew it recognized those coordinates. They were the very coordinates it had transmitted through the whispers.

The short humanoid entity fired a laser to cut the latch. Lin Yuan kicked open the hatch, and the team tumbled into the maintenance compartment. Camilla quickly set up proximity mines, and Lin Yuan set THRONE-01 down against a wall.

The air in the compartment was thick with the smell of old machine oil and a sickly sweet rot. Tactical flashlights illuminated dense scratches on the walls. They weren't graffiti; they were coordinates.

"Sector-7, deep cryogenic storage."

THR-01-κ deciphered the symbols, its optical lens reflecting the light from the scratches.

"THR-01-μ's hibernation location. You knew about this long ago, through the whispers."

"And you knew I would come."

Lin Yuan responded coldly.

He approached the wall and ran his fingers over the scratches. His neural link stung again as new memory fragments flooded in: a youth identical to his brother lay in a blue liquid cryogenic pod, eyes closed, but the chest indicator light showed green. Beside him stood another THR-01-κ, older and more damaged.

"Neural pattern backup: one hundred percent."

THR-01-κ's voice uncharacteristically wavered.

"The flesh is dead, but consciousness survives. Farm technology can preserve consciousness purely digitally, just as I am recording now."

Camilla looked at her brother in the medical pod and then at the scratches on the wall: "That means even if brother's body collapses..."

"He might also exist in another form."

Lin Yuan finished her sentence, but his tone was icy.

"But that isn't living. That's just data."

He turned to look at THRONE-01. That machine was using its only remaining mechanical arm to dismantle its leg components, its movements precise and indifferent, as if processing a corpse.

"Without mobility, I am merely a burden. Secure me to a stretcher and install heavy bolters; I can become a stationary turret."

"You will lose your humanoid form."

"I was only ever a machine."

THRONE-01's sensors turned toward him, a hint of wounded pride in the amber light.

"But you gave me the ability to make emotional decisions. Now, I choose to be your fortress rather than a hindrance. This is my decision, not a protocol."

The sound of proximity mines exploding and screams came from outside the compartment; more footsteps were approaching. The Chamber of Commerce had used acoustic decoys, and their main force had bypassed the trap.

Lin Yuan stood up and looked toward the rusted iron door at the end of the compartment. A system warning popped up: [Heresy technology reaction detected. Frequency matches STC but with opposite phase. Caution advised.]

"The Rusted Church is just ahead."

He raised his melta blade.

THRONE-01 was secured to a reinforced stretcher, with two heavy bolters loaded. The sensor array turned to Lin Yuan, its electronic voice low and clear:

"Commander, my shooting accuracy will now drop by twelve percent because I've started thinking about the cost of every bullet and whether I might kill someone who should have been protected."

"Then learn to shoot while thinking."

Lin Yuan kicked open the iron door.

"Welcome to becoming a free machine spirit, THRONE."

Behind the door was a vast underground space, a derelict transit station resembling a forgotten mechanical cathedral. Rusted pipes hung from the vaulted ceiling like inverted crosses. In the center of the space, a device similar to the STC farm reactor but in the opposite orientation emitted a low hum, its green light illuminating rows of cryogenic pods on the surrounding walls. Inside each pod floated a figure similar to his brother.

"Welcome home, THR-09-Ω."

A voice, nearly identical in frequency to THR-01-κ but older and filled with static, rang out from the shadows.

Lin Yuan's bolter was already aimed at the source of the sound, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. Within his neural link, those whispered coordinates had finally completed their navigational mission, but they left behind new questions: if THR-01-κ was a megaphone, then the entity behind The Twelfth that had truly issued the commands was watching them now.