Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

I couldn't help but laugh at how close she was. "Not quite," I replied. "Colonizing it sounds... tedious. Too much work to maintain such a sprawling structure that we will leave from time to time since our eventual focus is about roving around Carcosa and going from citadel to citadel for a significant amount of our future."

"Huh, I think I'm quite stumped on this one. Can you explain what you mean by that, Narcy?" Verina asked. Her voice was monotone but her tone was that of a surprise.

"I don't want to colonize the Vault," I said, a small smile forming. "I want to pack it up and bring it with us."

Verina blinked. "You want to—wait. What?"

I gestured toward the spire. "The idea is simple. We expand the spatial expanse within the Landship. We'll dismantle everything important in the spire—the facilities, the materials, the constructs—and shove it all inside.

"Why bother anchoring ourselves to a single location when we can make the Vault mobile?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she processed this. "And you're just going to... move an entire, or half of the Vault's infrastructure into the Landship. Just like that?"

"Just like that," I said lightly. "It's not unprecedented. Kuzunoha's mansion works on the similar principle—its interiors are heavily secluded and isolated with the world outside, differing in size and dimension. The Landship already uses a similar spatial expansion technique, courtesy of her expertise."

"So, you're telling me Kuzunoha's about to get overworked," Verina deadpanned more than usual.

I grinned. "She's not overworked enough as of late. A little challenge might do her some good."

Speaking of Kuzunoha, her progress on scouring the rest of the Theotech spire was an amazing advancement.

The higher levels of the spire unveiled secrets that felt less like discoveries and more like miracles pulled from the threads of an incomprehensible design.

Just by compiling the reports given to me through the neuromorphic network, it was clear that the facilities there weren't simply a mere technology; it was a defiance of what should be possible, bending not just physics but the very nature of reality itself.

Each facility we uncovered felt like peeling back the layers of some divine creation, intricate and unrelenting in its refusal to be fully understood.

Though of course, some findings were much more major than the rest.

One of them being the Celestial Forge.

On one of the uppermost floors of the spire, the expedition team found themselves standing within a massive circular chamber, the very air alive with a resonant hum that wasn't sound but something deeper—an echo felt in the bones.

The walls glowed with crystalline panels, each flickering with an alien, melodic rhythm as if the room itself was breathing. Pulsating conduits crisscrossed the space, alive with streams of golden energy that seemed to thread together, weaving an intricate formation of purpose.

The Celestial Forge wasn't just a place for creation—it felt like it was the source of creation, even though it wasn't, both conceptually and in technicality.

The forge did not require hammers or physical tools; instead, it operated through synchronized energy flows, guiding the process as if possessed by an unseen intelligence.

Just like the one I felt when trying to control the psychic nexus.

The team's initial tests revealed its astonishing potential. Materials inserted into the Forge's central pedestal were reconstructed on a molecular level, not combined in the sense of welding two components together but seamlessly redefined into something new.

A shattered blade was reborn into a shimmering edge that resonated with psionic energy; an ordinary metallic shard became a hovering lattice of light that bent itself into armor-like configurations when held.

After a while, it was then revealed that the purpose of this forge was not meant for crafting—it was evolution.

But despite these initial tests, no one could fully grasp how the Forge worked. Even Kuzunoha herself.

It acted as if it had a will, making adjustments autonomously, calibrating the end product to suit something we don't even know existed.

That was the first major Theotech facility.

The second was the Ethereal Data Archive.

On a floor deeper into the spire's core, the expedition team stumbled upon what could only be described as a library for gods.

The Ethereal Data Archive wasn't a physical repository but a space teeming with thousands of glyph-encoded orbs suspended mid-air. Each orb shimmered faintly, exuding a faint hum as if it carried the whispers of forgotten epochs.

The glyphs were alive. They shifted and rearranged themselves, creating new patterns faster than the eye could track.

Attempts to decipher them using conventional means led nowhere. The symbols defied standard comprehension, their structure looping and folding back into themselves like the fractured echoes of an alien language.

But the orbs weren't just data storage—they were interactive. When a team member accidentally brushed one, it began projecting what could only be described as a visual representation of knowledge: holographic diagrams of ancient cities, charts of Carcosa, and images of intricate Theotech constructs.

Each orb held entire histories and perhaps even forgotten civilizations within them.

Yet, attempting to access them felt like staring at a mirror with your reflection whispering secrets just beyond the edge of understanding.

And that was the thing. Everything there felt like it didn't want to be uncovered.

The Archive didn't just store information—it guarded it, making each revelation a battle of persistence and comprehension.

So far, Kuzunoha and her team using the help of Cognitive Engines could only make up 0.!% of the content inside this archive, that's how slow the progress of deciphering the knowledge within it.

Of course, this was just a report.

I might be able to do something with my All-Tampering Divine Dexterity.

But that could be done another time.

The third major Theotech facility was the Amplifier Array.

The Amplifier Array was a vast network of gold crystalline pylons connected by shimmering arcs of light.

Each pylon seemed to vibrate with psionic energy, filling the chamber with an oppressive yet strangely harmonious presence. The walls themselves hummed with power, their surfaces etched with flowing glyphs that occasionally shifted like ripples in water.

When activated through psychic means, the pylons projected a field that enhanced psionic abilities to an alarming degree.

Those who entered the field reported a strange clarity, as if their senses had been heightened.

But the field came at a cost—it demanded focus and restraint. Unchecked, the amplification could overwhelm the user, turning even a simple thought into a cascade of destructive potential. It was a tool of immense power, but one that walked the edge of ruin. Explore new worlds at empire

An adorable proposal from one of the bastiioneers I know was issued to utilize the Amplifier Array to empower them when uncovering the content of the Ethereal Data Archive.

It was a good idea, but not efficient enough.

Since it with psionic in nature, I'm thinking of binding a Cognitive Engine directly into it.

Other than that, there was still one more major Theotech facility that I needed to mention.

The Null Vault.

Deep within the spire, the Null Vault waited like a slumbering beast. It was a stark, foreboding chamber, its walls made of a strange, matte-black material that absorbed light rather than reflected it.

The chamber felt wrong—as if it existed in defiance of the laws of reality.

Stepping inside the Null Vault felt like being submerged in a vacuum. Psionic energy, magic, and even ambient Theotech resonance were instantly silenced.

In conclusion, it wasn't just a suppression field—it was absolute nullification.

The chamber seemed designed to imprison things far beyond human comprehension. Its containment systems, when activated, projected barriers of lightless void that could hold even the most volatile entities.

I really need this in my Landship. And if possible, replicating it to amass it.

"You're grinning like a maniac," Verina commented. "But you're still as beautiful, regardless."

"I thought that should be a normal thing by now."

Time passed for quite a while as I managed all of the things related to the bastion and the Theotech Vault.

Later, in the Landship's workshop section, Naosi, one of the bastioneers who had stayed behind during the expedition, unveiled her latest creations.

It was three swords, each a masterpiece in its own right.

Viviane and I stood side by side as Naosi presented the weapons on an exquisite stand, each of them having their own name plate.

The first one was Neural Veil. A sleek, elongated blade made of a shimmering silver Neuro Alloy that refracted light into faint rainbow hues. Its surface was embedded with Theotech circuits that could emit an electromagnetic pulse upon impact, disabling nearby constructs and disrupting psionic fields. A glowing blue core ran along its center, pulsating faintly with energy.

The second sword was Calamity's Fissure. A jagged, obsidian-black blade forged with fragments of Calamity Object materials. It radiated an aura of dread that disrupted an enemy's focus and composure. By observing the composition, it could be concluded that upon a successful strike, it could release a shockwave of destructive psionic energy.

The last sword of the three was the Aurora Shard. A slender, almost delicate-looking blade crafted from a transparent crystalline material harvested from the spire. The sword glowed faintly, and its edge shimmered with the faint traces of arcane sorcery. It could create temporary barriers of light upon contact with something when intended, making it both offensive and defensive.

Oh right, it was a little bit too late to reveal that Naosi had a small yet still significant potential for arcane sorcery. Because of that, I imbued her script of the arcane knowledge I knew, so that she could slowly learn it.

And it seemed like she was able to perform a minor arcane sorcery to tinker around with her craft. An amazing growth to consider.

I leaned forward, excitedly studying each blade closely. "The artistry is remarkable," I said, genuinely impressed. "Each one has a distinct character."

Naosi straightened with pride, but Viviane remained silent, her orange eyes fixed on the swords.

Finally, she spoke. "They're good," she said, her tone thoughtful. "But they're not legendary."

Naosi's expression faltered slightly. "Ahaha, it looks like I still need a long way."

Viviane's rare smile appeared, gentle yet firm. "A legendary weapon isn't just about quality or power. These swords are exceptional tools, but they lack the weight of something that makes them to be regarded by Carcosa."

Naosi nodded slowly, processing the critique, sighing with a smile. "Looks like I really need to find out what that weight of something is."

"But that doesn't diminish their value," Viviane added. "They're well-made. Distribute them to the bastion—they'll serve us well."

I placed a hand on Naosi's shoulder. "You've done excellent work." I then glanced at Viviane who was also proud of the swords displayed in front of her. "We'll even hold a contest to decide who earns the right to wield them."

Naosi's spirits lifted at that, and she nodded eagerly. "Thank you! I'll work even harder to make an even better sword than the legendary piece that was given to me!"

Naosi left with an accomplished feeling.

I turned to Viviane, curiosity piqued. "I had always been meaning to ask something."

"Yes?"

"You barely use the legendary sword you gave her," I remarked. "Why?"

Viviane's expression softened. "Because I'm the Lady of the Lake, not the Lady of the Swords."

I raised an eyebrow. "You 'were' the Lady of the Lake."

She smirked faintly. "There's a clause. I can only distribute the swords through a rite, not wield them myself."

"Was what we did back then considered a rite?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes. That's why the sword went to Naosi, since she did something that is commendable enough to pass the qualification."

"Am I qualified?"

"You're the most unqualified individual, Narcissus—outside of Kuzunoha."

As time passed, the sky began to shift, the light dimming as dusk approached.

The Ordeal of the Dusk was nearing the horizon once again.