85: Chapter 85 Seven-Layered Coffin and Memory Tax

The moment the blast door slid open, white frost gushed out, spreading a bone-chilling layer of crystals across the floor.

Lin Yuan's Silver-wire Network suddenly contracted. A needle-like chill shot up his spine to the back of his head. He raised a hand to stop DORN-00 behind him and crossed the threshold alone. The low temperature made his retinas constrict, and the silhouettes in the darkness became sharp-edged; seven massive shadows hung suspended in the center of the circular hall.

The cryo-pods were arranged in a ring, their support structures resembling the wreckage of some giant gear. The pods were covered in a thick crust of frost, and blurred dark shadows were frozen behind the translucent observation windows. Lin Yuan approached the first one and wiped away the ice crystals. Inside lay a body wearing tattered Power Armor, the Seventh Legion emblem mottled on the breastplate. Bone spurs rose from the chest cavity, cracking the ceramic armor, and frozen lymph fluid leaked from the fissures.

"Mutation threshold."

Lin Yuan's voice struck the metal walls and shattered into echoes. He walked to the second pod. This body was relatively intact, with muscular arms crossed over its chest, and the gene-seed interface at the neck gleamed a healthy silver-grey. The third was equally stable, its facial features seventy percent similar to DORN-00. However, the fourth, fifth, and sixth all showed aberrations: spines pierced through skin to form exoskeletons, and skulls had swollen to twice their normal size, suspended in pale green cryo-fluid like bloated, deformed chunks of meat.

Lin Yuan's footsteps halted in front of the central main pod.

This pod was a full size larger than the others. On the label behind the observation window, high gothic flickered under the eerie blue light: "DORN-00-The Original Seed."

"The Original Seed?"

DORN-00's bone spurs scraped the floor as he stepped to Lin Yuan's side, his mutated vertical pupils staring fixedly at the label. A sharp pain, like shards of glass, suddenly scraped inside his skull. Chaotic fragments flashed back—bubbles in cryo-fluid, a probe piercing his spine, the agonizing sensation of being divided. He reached out, his fingertips touching the pod's glass; the chill instantly bored into his bone marrow, turning his knuckles white.

"I... am in there?" DORN-00's vocal cords rasped out a hoarse breath. "Then... who am I?"

Lin Yuan didn't answer. A data terminal embedded in the wall was booting up on its own, its pale green light screen rippling in the cold air. Camilla steered her makeshift mobile platform close; she had reconstructed a tracked chassis using scrap from the upper levels. The interface cables of the Rustnail equipment were forcibly shoved into the terminal ports, sending sparks flying.

"The interface is a perfect match." Camilla frowned, her fingers tapping on the virtual keyboard. "The Rustnail equipment was custom-made for this place. They were already inside long ago."

The terminal flickered, and logs scrolled down like a waterfall. Lin Yuan's gaze was pinned to the top record: "Chief Biosage Marcus Kane, Authority Transfer, 72 hours ago."

"Chief Biosage..." Lin Yuan muttered the title. "The Magos was once the master of this place."

"It's not asset recovery." Camilla scrolled through the data rapidly, her voice tight. "It's a purge of traitors. The unit arriving in 72 hours is tasked with erasing all 'unclean samples,' including—"

A screech of tearing metal cut her off.

THRONE-01 was kneeling at the entrance, the rust on his left arm having already spread to his shoulder blade. Metal and flesh had fused into a chaotic mass; beneath the rusted surface, pink muscle fibers were writhing. The force field generator emitted an overloaded whine, and the HUD at the edge of his vision flashed red frantically: machine spirit Corruption Rate 82%.

"Brother..." THRONE-01 looked up, his electronically synthesized voice squeezing out of a metal throat, laced with static noise. "It's... gnawing on things... inside my head..."

Lin Yuan rushed to him and grabbed the rusted left hand. The Silver-wire Network linked instantly, and a frantic sense of erosion flooded in, like countless metal locusts devouring the boundaries of his consciousness. Worse, black corrosive patterns were crawling backward along the neural link, heading straight for his cerebral cortex.

"System," Lin Yuan growled in his mind, "activate STC Maintenance Protocol."

[Warning: Promethium reserves are zero. Insufficient energy. Termination recommended.]

"Alternative solution."

[Detected residual bio-electric energy within unit DORN-00, originating from cellular activity after mutation retraction. Can be used as a temporary power source; extraction will result in target weakness for 30 minutes. Maintenance protocol side effect confirmed: Irreversible erasure of recent memories, with a risk of personality fragmentation cumulative with usage.]

Lin Yuan turned his gaze toward DORN-00. The mutant was still staring at the central cryo-pod, seemingly oblivious to the conversation, but the bone spurs on his back trembled slightly in instinctive alarm at the energy flow.

"Extract his bio-electricity," Lin Yuan ordered. "Display all side effects."

A light screen unfolded before THRONE-01, cold lines of text listing the cost: erasure of recent human memories, personality fragmentation, loyalty baseline reset. Lin Yuan grabbed his brother's helmet, forcing him to see every line.

"Listen." Lin Yuan's voice was very low, his fingers gripping the metal of THRONE-01's jaw. "You will forget some things. It might be things from last week, it might be people you just met. But if we don't do this, in 12 hours you'll become an out-of-control machine spirit beast, and I will dismantle you with my own hands."

THRONE-01's single eye flashed red. He sensed it—the corrosion was backwashing through the neural link into Lin Yuan's Silver-wire Network. The genetic instinct to protect the Primarch overrode his fear of survival.

"Do it." THRONE-01 nodded, his neck joints letting out a crisp click. "Protect... Primarch... Priority..."

"It's not just for me." Lin Yuan stared into that single eye. "I choose an imperfect survival over letting you die 'whole.' Understand?"

THRONE-01 nodded again.

Lin Yuan pressed the confirmation key. DORN-00 suddenly let out a muffled groan, his body convulsing violently. Bio-electric energy was forcibly extracted and channeled through temporary cables into the maintenance interface. An eerie blue light enveloped THRONE-01's left arm; rusted metal peeled away, revealing newborn tissue of interwoven alloy and flesh beneath.

THRONE-01's single eye suddenly lost focus.

Ten minutes later, the light faded. THRONE-01 stood up, the rust on his left arm gone, the joints as flexible as new. The machine spirit corruption rate had dropped to 65%. He flexed his fingers, his gaze sweeping over DORN-00 without a hint of emotion in his pupils.

"Report status," THRONE-01's voice returned to a mechanical steadiness. "Have the enemies been eliminated?"

DORN-00's bone spurs instantly flared out, making a viper-like hissing sound. He stood in front of Lin Yuan, confusion and rage churning in his golden vertical pupils. The brother who had been sealing the corridor side-by-side with him just moments ago was now looking at him as if evaluating a strange weapon.

"THRONE-01," Lin Yuan asked tentatively, "do you still remember what happened during the crossfire cover?"

"Data logs show we performed tactical coordination." THRONE-01 inspected his repaired left arm with machine-like precision. "But emotional memory... has a gap. Logically, I should trust this unit, but..."

He turned to DORN-00, his tone like reading weapon parameters: "I have no memory of establishing a fraternal relationship with him."

DORN-00's roar exploded in the bottom level. Mutated bone spurs slammed into the ground, sending frost flying, but he pulled back abruptly before touching THRONE-01. The bone spurs vibrated with a high-frequency hiss, venting his abandoned rage and bewilderment.

"Enough." Lin Yuan stepped between the two, his Silver-wire Network emitting a soothing pulse. "DORN-00, his memory was paid as the price for the repair. This isn't betrayal; it's a tax."

"Tax?" DORN-00's voice was distorted and warped.

"The tax of survival." Lin Yuan turned to the terminal, where Camilla was frantically copying data. "Camilla paid with her legs, you paid with part of your sanity, and he paid with his memories. Now,"

The terminal suddenly emitted a sharp alarm. Camilla looked up, her face pale. "I've gained partial access to the defense system; the gates and turrets can be controlled. But..." She pointed to the top of the permission tree, "The highest authority is marked as 'Apostle of the Omnissiah.' That Magos—he considers himself the spokesperson for the Machine God."

Lin Yuan looked at the central cryo-pod. The "DORN-00-The Original Seed" label flickered in the eerie light. If The Original Seed was lying in there, then what was this angry, confused mutant beside him? A clone? A failure? Or..."

THRONE-01 stood at his side, the new muscle on his left arm gleaming coldly under the lights, loyal and hollow. DORN-00 retreated into the shadows, the sound of his bone spurs scraping like grinding teeth.

On the terminal screen, the countdown ticked: 71 hours, 23 minutes. The unit to purge traitors was closing in, and the laboratory's most dangerous secret had just been partially unveiled.