[System Ledger: Day 5]
Atlas sat on his throne, reviewing the numbers floating in his vision. The war with Warlord Khan had been profitable, but expensive in terms of infrastructure damage.
Origin Points (OP):310
Source: Carry-over (40) + Gnoll Kills (250) + Boss Assist Bonus (20).
Usage: Used to purchase/realize Blueprints and modify biology.
Faith Points (FP):500
Source: Mercenary payment from Zhuge.
Usage: Currency for the Global Market (buying raw materials from other players).
Population:
C4-Dolls: 18 (2 lost in battle).
Vassals: 1 (Cavedweller).
Machines: 1 (Centurion Mk I - Low Fuel).
"310 Origin Points," Atlas muttered. "Enough to jump a tech tier."
He looked at the barrels Zhuge had sent over. Ten large barrels of Spirit Wine. It was a luxury item. Zhuge's people drank it to gain minor mana buffs. Atlas popped the lid off one. The smell was potent—sweet, but with a sharp chemical sting. "Alcohol content... maybe 40%," Atlas estimated. "Not enough. Engines need at least 85% to run efficiently without clogging. I need to distill this."
He turned to Cavedweller, who was currently repairing the chipped ceramic armor on the Centurion. "Vassal. Stop polishing the robot. We're building a Still."
The Refinery
Building a distillery wasn't hard. It was basic chemistry. Boil the wine. Alcohol boils at a lower temperature than water. Capture the vapor. Cool it down. Condensed liquid is pure fuel.
Atlas didn't need a blueprint for this. He used the System's [Crafting Mode].
Boiler: Repurposed from a damaged Steam Sentry.
Coil: Copper tubing (mined by Cavedweller).
Coolant: The cold void air.
Within three hours, the contraption was hissing. Clear, volatile liquid dripped into a clay jar. Atlas dipped a finger in and lit it with a spark. Whoosh. It burned with a nearly invisible blue flame. [Item Created: Bio-Ethanol (90% Purity).][Fuel Value: High.]
"Liquid Gold," Atlas grinned. "Now I can ditch the steam."
He opened his Fiction Realization interface. He had 310 Points. He wanted speed. The Centurion was a tank—strong but slow and heavy. He needed a scout. He needed something that could traverse the narrow, precarious bridges between islands.
"System. Access Memory: [The Dark Knight]." "Project: [The Bat-Pod]."
[Analyzing Concept: Single-Axle Motorcycle.][Features: Gyroscopic stability, Dual Engines, Front-mounted Cannons.][Materials Required:]
Tires: (Rubber is unavailable). Substitution: hardened Leather wrapped in Slime-Gel for shock absorption.
Chassis: Steel tubing.
Engine: Internal Combustion (Twin Cylinder). [Cost: 150 Origin Points.]
"Do it."
The manufacturing process was different this time. Atlas didn't just mold clay. He used the Vacuum Tube Computer to help calibrate the engine timing. He built two small cylinders out of the highest quality steel Cavedweller had refined. He injected the Bio-Ethanol. He used a Spark Plug made from copper and a tiny shard of Magic Crystal (looted from the Dungeon) to create the ignition.
Crank.Put-put-put-VROOOM.
The sound was distinct. It wasn't the hiss of steam. It was the aggressive, rhythmic growl of explosions contained within metal. The Internal Combustion Engine (ICE) had arrived.
Atlas mounted the engine into a low, long frame. The wheels were massive—wide drums made of steel and leather to grip the mud. The rider lay prone, practically hugging the engine. On the front, instead of grappling hooks, Atlas mounted two Mini-Cannons (pipes loaded with gunpowder and ball bearings).
[System Alert: Tech Tier Advance!][Age Unlocked: The Diesel Era (Early).][Unit Created: The 'Void-Runner' Assault Bike.][Speed: 80 mph.][Fuel Efficiency: High.]
Atlas straddled the machine. It vibrated violently beneath him. "Cavedweller!" The Kobold peeked out from behind the refinery. "I'm going on a patrol. If Zhuge calls, tell him the price of security just went up. I need rubber."
Atlas revved the throttle. The bike shot forward, tearing a trench in the mud. He hit the edge of the island and launched off a ramp, landing on the connecting air-bridge with a thud, then accelerating into the darkness.
The Void Patrol
Speed changed everything. Before, the void was a slow, terrifying abyss. Now, it was a blur of starlight. Atlas rode for an hour, covering distance that would have taken days on foot. He passed dozens of islands.
He saw a Medieval Kingdom where knights were fighting giant spiders. He saw a Forest Domain where trees were walking. He saw a Desert where players were dying of thirst.
He didn't stop. He was mapping the sector. His HUD (Projected by the System) was filling in the fog of war.
Sector 7G (Home): Safe.
Sector 7H (Zhuge): Safe.
Sector 7J (Khan): Hostile. (Khan's island was a floating fortress of bones).
Then, he entered Sector 8A. The "Lower Void."
Here, the islands were darker. No stars shone above. The purple fog was thick and suffocating. Atlas slowed the bike. The engine growled low. Something was wrong. There were islands here, but they were... empty. No players. No monsters. Just barren rock.
He pulled up to a small islet. He saw a Player's base—a wooden cabin. It wasn't destroyed. It was dissolved. The wood looked like it had been digested by acid. There were no bodies. Just clothes left on the ground, untouched.
[Scan Area][result: No Biological Signatures.][Trace residue: Acidic Slime.]
Atlas dismounted, keeping his hand near the boom-spider on his belt. He walked to the pile of clothes. Rank F novice gear. He picked up a helmet. It was filled with a grey, sticky goo.
"Slimes?" Atlas whispered. "Wild slimes don't eat people this clean. They leave bones. This... this took the bones too."
He heard a sound. Schlop. Schlop.
It came from the underside of the island. Atlas walked to the edge and looked down. His heart skipped a beat.
Clinging to the bottom of the rock was a massive, pulsing sack of grey flesh. It looked like a tumor the size of a bus. And from the tumor, things were birthing. Not slimes. Shapes.
Atlas zoomed in with his mask's lens. The grey ooze was forming into legs. Then heads. Then tails. They were taking the shape of Gnolls. But they had no eyes. Just smooth, grey faces.
[Scan Complete][Entity: The Mimic Brood (Rank D)][Ability: Genetic Absorption. Adaptive Evolution.][Status: Gestating.]
"It ate the Gnolls from the ships I dropped," Atlas realized, a cold chill running down his spine. "It ate them, learned their biology, and now it's mass-producing them."
One of the "Grey Gnolls" looked up. It didn't have eyes, but it sensed him. It screeched—a sound like tearing metal. Suddenly, the tumor erupted. Dozens of the grey mimics began crawling up the side of the cliff, moving with unnatural speed, their limbs bending backward and forward like rubber.
"Nope," Atlas said.
He ran to the bike. He kicked the starter. VROOOM. Three Mimics crested the ledge. They didn't run; they sprang like coils. Atlas spun the bike around. "Eat lead."
He triggered the handlebars. BANG-BANG-BANG. The front-mounted cannons flashed. Lead ball bearings shredded the first two Mimics. Their bodies didn't bleed; they splattered into grey goo. But the goo didn't die. It started pulling itself back together.
"Regeneration," Atlas cursed. "Physical damage is ineffective. They need to be burned."
He didn't have a flamethrower. He revved the engine. He dropped the clutch. The bike shot forward, aiming for the air-bridge. A Mimic jumped at him. Atlas leaned the bike, drifting sideways. The rear wheel—spinning at 80mph—caught the Mimic in the face. Friction heat + Kinetic force. The Mimic was smeared across the pavement, burned by the rubber tire.
Atlas gunned it. He tore across the bridge, leaving the grey horrors behind. He checked his rear-view mirror. They weren't chasing him. They were stopping at the edge of the darkness. Watching. Learning.
"I need to get back," Atlas shouted over the wind. "I need Napalm. Gunpowder isn't enough."
Home Base
Atlas drifted the bike into his muddy plaza, startling Cavedweller so bad the Kobold dropped a crate of steel. "Master! You're back! Did you find resources?"
Atlas killed the engine. He looked pale. "I found the end game," Atlas whispered. "Or at least, the mid-game boss."
He walked to the Refinery. "Cavedweller. How much Ethanol do we have?" "Three barrels, Master." "Good. Don't put it in the engines." "What? Then what is it for?"
Atlas pulled up a new Blueprint. His Origin Points were down to 160 (310 - 150 for the Bike). He needed a weapon of mass destruction.
"System. Concept: [Greek Fire] mixed with [Napalm]." "Agent: Sticky. Inextinguishable. Water-phobic."
[Analyzing...][Materials: Ethanol + Oil + Styrofoam (Polystyrene substitute) + Phosphorus.][Substitute for Styrofoam: Refined Slime Gel.][Cost: 100 Origin Points.]
"Do it."
Atlas looked at the Centurion. "We're upgrading Unit 01. Strip the arm. We're installing a Flamethrower."
Just then, his Global Chat pinged. It was Warlord Khan. But it wasn't a threat.
[Warlord_Khan]: "Metal Man. We have a problem." [Atlas]: "I don't talk to dead men." [Warlord_Khan]: "My scouts... they found a ship. An empty ship floating up from the deep void. It was covered in grey slime." [Warlord_Khan]: "When my men touched it, they... melted. What did you do?"
Atlas stared at the message. "I didn't do it," Atlas replied. "But I know what did. And if we don't kill it, it's going to eat the whole server."
[Atlas]: "Meet me at Zhuge's island. Truce. We need to talk about the Grey Plague."
[System Ledger Update]
Origin Points: 60 (Spent 150 on Bike, 100 on Napalm Logic).
Tech Unlocked: Internal Combustion, Napalm Chemistry.
New Vehicle: Void-Runner (Bike).
New Threat: The Mimic Brood (Regenerative, Adaptive).