Chapter 307

Chapter 308: Full of Life

After another squad vanished near the core module, a tense fear spread through the ship and grew close to panic.

Being lost in an unknown star field and trapped in Deep Space only made that fear worse.

Sage had no choice but to order everyone on the Pillar of Order to inject a dose of Fortitude Compound to hold back the fear and keep order on board.

But he could feel it: the fear had not gone away. It was still breeding in the dark, like an evil spirit behind a curtain, eager to break through the wall of reason.

[Shoddy knockoffs.]

Watching the Cultivators bow over their stations, busy yet clearly unsure what to do, the white robed elder in the chief seat frowned and cursed in his heart.

“We just lost contact with the lower machine bay,” a careful Hermitage Member came close and reported in a low voice, “during the final call they said they heard noise in the pipe crawl space and were going out to inspect. Then they vanished. The monitoring System only caught them leaving the door.”

“How is the engine?” Sage asked in a hard voice: “When can we jump again?”

“The engine is charging, but part of the power lines are offline, so charge rate is one third of normal. We need at least an hour to start, and…” the reporting Cultivator swallowed, “and we still have not found the ‘intruder’ or the true cause of the failed jump. Even if charging finishes, a blind jump might…”

“I do not need you to remind me about the risks. I will judge when the time comes. Tell me this now: how many compartments are lost, and how much area do we still control?”

“The machine bay, cargo bay, data center, residential zones 2 to 4, and the D-1 and D-2 connector segments are already dark. The rest is still under control, but…”

Sage’s tone cooled: “But what?”

“But… something feels very wrong. The hull sense System keeps returning static we cannot filter out,” the Cultivator said, shifting on his feet, “even in sections where comms are fine and the watch crews are safe, the sense System is sending odd signals. It feels like, like…”

“Stop stalling.”

“Like the whole Pillar of Order is catching a ‘disease.’ Parts of its structure are changing and being flagged by the hull sense System as ‘foreign,’ but those parts cannot truly be cut out. Aside from that noise, every other sensor and camera feed says things are normal. Also, some watch crew reported ‘hallucinations.’ They think something is crawling in the walls, or someone is talking to them through the room’s ventilation System. One mechanic even said… he said his tool cabinet was watching him, and that there were several pairs of eyes inside.”

Sage stayed silent, face dark as water.

Cheap, iterated products were full of flaws. Their fragile neural structures were easily swayed by the environment, like those of ordinary mortals. But their loyalty and endurance were beyond doubt. Their reports might have bias, but they would not exaggerate on purpose or babble nonsense from fear.

They had truly felt something. A kind of “alteration” was spreading across the ship.

Thinking of the missing squads, and those Knights who had slipped from the command chain, their disappearance felt less like an attack and more like the ship had swallowed them, leaving nothing behind.

Sage stood slowly and looked out over the great hall. His gaze seemed to pierce the walls and deck, seeing the whole grand tower.

The Pillar of Order was the proud creation of the Hermitage Order. Every ship like this carried the mission to repair the world’s order and reshape space and time. Its core came from the great forging world Ladar, and every batch of metal used in its frame had been blessed by a Living Saint. Whether its final assembly was on an industrial planet or in a distant frontier camp, its sanctity was beyond doubt and should not be profaned.

Now, a “disease” was staining this holy work.

Sage lowered his head, took out a small pendant, and held it. The pendant was gold, a delicate double ring set with a shining red gem.

A faint, ominous light flickered in the gem.

“Tell every compartment still in contact to hold their posts,” he ordered, “do not step out without orders, and do not enter any connector corridors.”

They still did not know what the missing crews had faced, but all had vanished while moving outside. The problem might lie in the act of leaving a room or entering a connector.

“Keep trying to fix the navigation System. Before the Phase Engine finishes charging, we must be ready to jump.”

They had not found the intruder’s exact position, and they could not rule out new interference, so a rush jump might fail again. Even so, jump prep had to be ready. The ship’s presence was already exposed. If they delayed, the fleet of the Special Affairs Bureau might arrive.

At last, Sage looked to the Cultivator who had been reporting: “What is the reboot progress for the Artificial Saintess? Why has she not deployed?”

“R-report: body repair is complete, but…” the Cultivator hesitated, then under Sage’s gaze finished quickly, “the mind wake has a problem. The Saintess refuses to leave the Holy Coffin.”

“Refuses?” For the first time, shock cracked Sage’s usually stern calm. He could hardly believe it. “She feels fear? She dares not return to battle?”

“No. The Saintess is full of battle will. The mind monitor shows her anger at the enemy and devotion to her faith are at their peak,” the Cultivator said fast, “it is just… she is praying to soothe the dead, and she says it is very important.”

Sage frowned: “Praying? Did no one tell her what is happening outside?”

“By the safety manual, before an Artificial Saintess leaves the Holy Coffin, we may not tell her much about the ‘outside world.’ Only a few preset orders can be fed into the coffin to prevent her mind from breaking safety protocols,” the Cultivator explained with care, “the monitor shows she is mourning the fallen Knights. She is deeply attached to this batch of Knights. It may be factory settings, or due to where they were made.”

“Enough. I do not care why. I require the Artificial Saintess to leave her Iron Coffin at once. If she wants to pray, she can pray all she wants when we return. She can lie in that coffin for a hundred years for all I care, but not now,” Sage snapped, waving a hand. “Inject Type 4 Compound and reboot her to combat state. I will take responsibility.”

“Understood. I will relay your order to the Holy Sarcophagus Chamber.”

The Cultivator turned and hurried off to transmit Sage’s command.

Nearby, the Hermitage Members kept their heads down and worked. Now and then, someone risked a glance upward, then quickly looked away.

Someone heard a faint tapping from under the deck. Someone heard strange noise in their headset. Someone felt a gaze fall on them. Everyone stayed silent.

The ship was waking up.

Many could feel it. Sage probably felt it too.

The ship had caught a plague named “Life,” and now its lively symptoms had spread across half the vessel.

The System readouts flashed: Type 4 Compound, highest dose, injected into the reserve tank.

Mind reboot entering warm up, three minutes to completion.

Holy Coffin power supply normal.

Deep in the Pillar of Order, a round hall glowed with warm yellow light. Several short robed Hermitage Members moved in a hurry.

Thick pipes hung down from the walls and ceiling and gathered at the center, linking into a device five or six meters across. It was iron black, its edges studded with monitors, small pipes, and cables. Tiny lights blinked among the cables and lines. In the center lay a black iron container tilted at about forty five degrees.

It was the “Holy Coffin” of the Artificial Saintess.

Now the Iron Coffin gave off a low hum, as if some kind of “incubation” was near its end.

A Hermitage Member wearing a white half face mask stepped to the device, checked several gauges, then waved to the others.

Assistants came forward, fixed candles to the candelabras on both sides of the Holy Coffin, and lit the wicks.

Pumps under the platform started. The assistants bowed their heads to the flames and said brief, soft prayers.

“Compound entering the line,” the lead operator said, staring at the feed pipe that ran into the Holy Coffin, his muscles taut.

This operation was dangerous. Type 4 Compound was very strong. Normally it needed a long prep time. Injecting without prep made a mind melt very likely.

They had no time for careful steps.

The eerie mood was spreading through the Pillar of Order. Even this holy Holy Sarcophagus Chamber seemed to be “waking” bit by bit. Eyes of a kind peered out from the Blessed pipes and cables.

Pale blue liquid appeared in the pipe and flowed toward the Holy Coffin.

“Type 4 Compound contacting the Neural Interface Plug. Reaction normal.”

“Saintess mind steady. Entering reboot.”

“Recompiling sense layer and expression layer…”

Hearing the System’s reports, the lead operator let out a small breath.

Then, in the next second, he saw the blue liquid stain red.