Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO-Chapter 296: Autogenetic Aurora
The Ordeal of the Dusk progressed with an almost unnatural lethargy.
Though the night had fallen, though the Landship and its bastioneers remained on high alert, the promised intensity of the Ordeal barely manifested. The scattered Calamity Objects that did emerge were sparse, non-threatening—shades of greater horrors that failed to take proper form.
The Ordeal Intensity Predictor had not been wrong.
40%.
A slow night, indeed.
I observed the battlefield from the observation deck, fingers tapping idly against the reinforced railing. The occasional distant flicker of a Calamity Object being erased by automated turrets or drones barely warranted my attention. Even the bastioneers who had once been braced for combat had now settled into a passive stance, waiting more than acting.
It was an anomaly in itself—Ordeals were usually not meant to be this subdued.
But then again, I had already experienced an even slower night back then. Not that I thought about it.
"We’re leaving."
Charis, who had been standing at my side, turned her gaze toward me, her silvery white eyes reflecting the distant, unfulfilled chaos of the night. "Tonight’s Ordeal is too weak to be a proper deterrent," she mused. "An opportunity, then?"
I nodded. "We have nothing more to gain from lingering here. The Theotech Site has been stripped clean of all valuable assets. At least, on the surface. The installation of the prediction facility was the last priority on the list."
Verina, nearby, adjusted the sights of her crystalline musket before speaking. "Then we should erase our tracks."
"Of course," I said smoothly. "I never intended to leave this place unsealed."
There were always eyes watching.
Whether they belonged to sentient creatures, eldritch horrors, or the very will of Carcosa itself, it did not matter. The moment something of value was unearthed, it would draw attention. The only way to mitigate this inevitability was to ensure that not a single trace remained.
Over-preparation did not exist in this world.
A single overlooked fragment of information could be the difference between absolute security and complete annihilation.
And so—before our departure—Kuzunoha and Viviane wove a new veil over the land.
The fabric of reality, once torn open by our presence, was now carefully sutured shut. The very same forces that had once hidden the Theotech Site from the world—barriers woven with layered dimensional obfuscation, resonant deterrents against precognitive sight, embedded interference against foreign perception—were reconstructed and reinforced, ensuring that the site would once again vanish from the grasp of all but the most determined seekers.
Well, you know, all that psychic and magical stuff that I could never achieve without having a divine domain of my own.
By the time the last layer had settled into place, it was as though we had never been here at all.
With the final preparations complete, the Landship lurched forward.
The vast, sprawling mass of the bastion began its steady movement, its massive frame gliding smoothly across the uneven terrain.
The screw-propellers churned the earth like liquid waves, leaving behind only subtle disturbances in their wake. The neuromorphic stabilizers adjusted automatically, compensating for every shift in momentum, ensuring that even within the deepest corridors of the Landship, one would feel no more than the gentle hum of transit.
The Duolos moved in tandem with the advance.
Some rode aboard hovercrafts, their silent forms drifting just above the ground, moving with the synchronized precision of a single, unified force. Others ran ahead, scouting the terrain far beyond the Landship’s immediate reach, their movements tireless, inhumanly efficient. The rest remained within, continuing the integration of Theotech materials and systems salvaged from the expedition.
"Well, that was a nice experience."
This place, the Theotech Site, had been an expedition. But Quruize Citadel—our next destination—would be something far greater.
"We gained more than the time we lost."
Five hours passed in seamless transit.
The Landship moved without obstruction, its predictive pathing ensuring that no unexpected obstacles disrupted its course. The night remained as quiet as it had begun.
And then—
The silence fractured.
Within our newest Neuromorphic Facility, an alert pulsed through the core.
The Ordeal Intensity Predictor, was the name that was assigned to it—its systems already fine-tuned to the detection of anomalous fluctuations—had locked onto something new.
My gaze flickered toward the updated display as the system finalized its analysis that was already connected to interactable interface of the observation dome at the center of the landship.
[ANOMALOUS CALAMITY OBJECT DETECTED.]
[CLASSIFICATION: PHENOMENON-TYPE.]
[DESIGNATION: AUTOGENETIC AURORA.]
The visualization unfolded across the holographic projection.
A vast, ethereal aurora stretched across the distant sky—a luminous expanse of unnatural color, rippling through the night with an almost hypnotic rhythm.
But the beauty was a deception.
The system’s appraisal provided the true nature of the anomaly.
A genetic disruptor.
The light of the aurora did not merely shine upon those beneath it.
It altered them.
Code by code, cell by cell, it tampered with the very foundations of biological existence, rewriting the structure of all who remained within its exposure for too long.
A mutation field.
One that did not discriminate.
The moment the appraisal was confirmed, a priority order was issued.
"All non-Duolos personnel are to undergo immediate checkups," I announced, my voice carrying through the neuromorphic network. "Regardless of perceived exposure time, no exceptions."
The response was immediate. Experience more tales on novelbuddy
The bastioneers, the Heavenly Maids, my confidantes—each one was gathered within the Landship’s medical sector, subjected to an exhaustive, systematic screening.
The atmosphere in the room hummed with efficiency.
Cognitive Engines oversaw the scanning process, their diagnostic displays flickering with intricate genetic readouts. The Duolos moved with their usual precision, facilitating the examination with seamless coordination. The medical chamber, reinforced with Theotech apparatus, ensured that even the most subtle of anomalies would not escape detection.
One by one, the results were compiled.
Minimal exposure. No lasting mutations detected.
It was a relief, but not unexpected. The bastioneers had not remained beneath the aurora’s reach long enough for its full effects to take hold.
"Next, Lydia!" Lupina called out, playing part as Kuzunoha’s assistant for the time being.
She sat atop the examination table, her posture utterly relaxed, her bare form completely unbothered by the scrutiny of those around her. The soft, sterile glow of the diagnostic interface cast shifting patterns of light across her skin as Kuzunoha conducted the final stages of her scan.
Her eyes—ever shut in their habitual, playful manner—curved with amusement, an ever-present smirk gracing her lips.
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She got quite the character development ever since her involvement within my bastion.
"So, how is it?" she mused, her voice dripping with lazy confidence. "Have I turned into some otherworldly horror yet, or am I still our lady’s lovable, stunning bastioneer?"
Kuzunoha hummed, flicking through the holographic readings with practiced ease. "A shame, really. I was hoping for at least a tentacle or two. You’d make an adorable eldritch fiend."
Lupina, standing nearby, folded her arms, an unimpressed expression tugging at her features. "It’d just make you more of a nuisance."
"Or more effective, depending on perspective," Lydia countered smoothly.
Kuzunoha let out a light laugh, turning toward Lupina. "I think she’s adjusting too well to all this. Not even a hint of modesty left in her, hmm?"
Lupina scoffed. "She never had any to begin with."
"Now, now," Lydia said, raising her arms in a dramatic stretch, entirely unbothered by her nudity. "Is it really my fault if I happen to be both comfortable and devastatingly intriguing at the same time? Some people are just born blessed, you know."
Maybe a little bit too much of a character development, in term of confidence.
Lupina’s tail flicked and lit up in plasma, the only tell of her exasperation.
Meanwhile, Kuzunoha finished her assessment, a soft chime signaling the completion of Lydia’s scan. She flicked a wrist, summoning the final diagnostic results into the air.
"Well, you’re clear," she announced. "No mutations, no anomalies, no sudden transformation into an incomprehensible being beyond mortal perception."
Lydia feigned a sigh of disappointment. "Tragic. I was hoping for something."
Lupina shot her a look. "You just wanted an excuse to be more insufferable, didn’t you?"
Lydia grinned. "I dare not, senior Lupina."
Kuzunoha smirked. "Well, you’ll have to settle for being normally insufferable, then."
The Heavenly Maids, meanwhile—unsurprisingly—were utterly immune.
Their biostructure, while similar to baseline humans in appearance, operated under a wholly different set of fundamental principles. Whatever force governed their existence had rendered them completely resistant to the phenomenon.
And the Duolos—
Predictably unaffected.
Their forms were fixed.
A Duolos vessel, once created, was not something that could be changed so easily. Their biological systems were locked into templated perfection—any external influence that attempted to alter them would simply be overwritten by the regenerative enforcement of their core structures.
A defense mechanism, absolute in its efficiency.
But that raised a different thought entirely.
A mutation field that could alter the very foundation of living beings was a threat.
Yet—
It was also a tool.
If harnessed correctly, if contained, if properly directed—
Could it be used?
Could it be something integrated?
A quiet, speculative hum escaped my lips.
This phenomenon was dangerous.
But so, too, was everything else I had ever found value in.
