AuthorSME
patreon
UE Rewrite: B5 — 2. The Cradle of Becoming
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 22:23:18 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Elinor (Our Lich Empress!)
--------------
The laboratory stretched before them like a cathedral built for giants, its ceiling arching forty feet overhead. Massive workstations dominated the space, each surface polished to a mirror finish despite the century of abandonment.
Elinor ran her fingers along the glass walls. It’s fascinating to think that this gorilla race was obsessed with cleanliness. Ke’Thra’Ma clearly took sanitation seriously with his automated systems. The hard part…is figuring out how we are going to operate this giant city in the long run.
On that note, she glanced around once more, her mother jumping on her toes to get a better view of the large specimen tubes spaced along a part of the wall, since this goo hasn’t been cleaned, the breakout must have been recent.
Clasping her hands behind her back, she eyed the neon green substance spread across a few sleek-looking consoles. Equipment larger than most human rooms sat silent and imposing, their purpose unclear but undeniably sophisticated.
How long, though? Who is to say it dissolves swiftly, or at all, and how often do cleaning machines make this trip? Perhaps they don’t since the power fluctuations since they couldn’t get in… Too much to consider. One concerning detail being…did they start these runic systems?
What immediately caught Elinor's attention wasn’t the scale—it was the active elements. Crystalline displays flickered with runic patterns along the far wall, their soft blue glow casting shifting shadows across surfaces designed for beings three to four times her height.
Unlike the simple access panels they’d encountered elsewhere, these interfaces pulsed with complex data streams, holographic projections materializing and dissolving in carefully choreographed sequences. Much of which she could read, like live streamed data reports on various zones, mixed with quen’talrat scientific jargon her resurrected gorillas weren’t educated on.
“This is…beyond anything we’ve seen thus far,” her mother whispered through the Nexus, her orange flames responding to the ambient energy. “Sweetie, these aren’t just control panels. This is their version of a computer system, but it’s operating on principles I don’t even have words for. Yes, arcane in origin, but that’s like saying computers run on electricity; it doesn’t explain the process.”
Tell me what you can decipher, Elinor replied, moving deeper into the lab while the thélméthra drone maintained a sentry position outside. The quen’talrat she’d brought remained clustered near the entrance, even their massive forms dwarfed by the architecture around them, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and terror.
Tiffany approached one of the workstations, craning her neck to examine panels that hung nearly ten feet above the floor. “Meno’rah, I need assistance reaching these interfaces.”
The gray-furred quen’talrat reluctantly shuffled into the room through the automatic doors, cupping his massive hands to provide a boost. Even lifted to his shoulder height, Tiffany barely reached the lower edge of the control surface—the room appeared built for Elite Hunters, not the general population.
“The scale is staggering,” she muttered, her fingers tracing runic patterns that began to glow at her touch. “Just like the door runes, these controls appear to respond to both physical contact and spiritual resonance. When I touch them, holographic displays materialize above the surface—three-dimensional interfaces that float in the air.”
You’ve told me about the spiritual aspect to this technology. Elinor paused in her examination of a series of containment chambers, each one large enough to hold an adult human but clearly designed for something else entirely. Do we have full access or are we limited?
“Limited, it seems. It’s showing live data streams, mostly. There looks to be a few attached research logs, likely notes, but the terminology…” Tiffany’s frustration bled through the Nexus.
We’ll find a scientist eventually who I will be able to fit into my Prose Feat. Quin is just a child, despite being educated as an Elite Hunter. Naturally, there would be gaps in more sophisticated language. You’re probably more educated, Meno’rah. Can you piece it together by figuring out roots and affixes?
“That’s my daughter,” her mother chimed. “Meno’rah, what does ‘Keth’rathma Vilense’ mean? Work it out for us.”
The gray quen’talrat’s fur bristled. “It means something like ‘life shaping,’ Empress, High Queen. But the full meaning…that’s specialist knowledge. Certain roots were deemed unimportant for our instruction. We miners wouldn’t know them.”
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Tiffany sighed. “It’s like asking someone who works in a warehouse to explain quantum physics. Not impossible, but quite improbable to find someone who is fluent. These research logs use terminology so advanced that even educated quen’talrat would likely not understand them if it is dealing on the level of one of the queens.”
Letting Tiffany continue her one-sided monologue, Elinor continued her circuit of the lab, noting the pristine condition of most equipment despite clear signs of hasty abandonment. Personal effects—crystalline data tablets, what appeared to be research notes—lay scattered across surfaces, but the machinery itself remained undamaged.
Except for the green ooze.
The cleaning robots seem to prioritize common dust, probably germs and viruses, but not personal items or this stuff. It could be new…or it could be excluded without express permissions due to wanting samples. What an interesting place this city is…
The crystalline substance appeared in several locations throughout the lab—smeared across a control console, splattered against one wall, and pooled near what looked like a breach in the chamber’s outer barrier. The pattern suggested something had moved through this space with purpose, interacting with the equipment before departing.
Mom, are you getting anything useful from those logs?
“Fragmented information. References to something fun called ‘accelerated evolutionary protocols’ and ‘autonomous continuation systems.’ The computer seems to be running background processes, maintaining something called…”
She paused, consulting with Meno’rah in rapid whispers. “Eh, ‘Gestation matrices’? And Elinor, there’s something else. I’m detecting camouflage runic patterns embedded in this entire observation platform. I wasn’t sure at first, and I can only feel its effects, but it’s there. Sometimes, my fire is analyzing the arcane energies, the next, we’re floating spontaneously. We’re shrouded by some kind of partially broken invisibility field.”
That explains why nothing in this vast ecosystem below has noticed our presence. The force field? she asked, turning upon hearing it activate again.
Carlos responded. “I’m keeping track of it, Empress. It seems to operate on a five minute interval so far. I’ll adjust my timing if it drops before then and keep a mental tally.”
I’m glad I have such competent people around me.
The man’s jaw tightened. “You’re too kind, Empress… I feel as if I haven’t done enough for the empire as of late.”
“Nonsense,” Tiffany huffed. “You’ve been dealing with many day-to-day instances and complaints from the ri’bot or humans. We really need to develop the Judicial Court, sweetie.”
One step at a time… We focus on what is in front of us.
“Fair. Rome wasn’t built overnight, as your father would say.”
He would say that, Elinor chuckled, letting her mother return to her ravenous study.
Elinor moved to examine one of the containment chambers more closely, and she went upon high alert upon spotting something growing within. The transparent material—not glass, but something far more sophisticated—revealed contents that would no doubt make Meno’rah and the other apes’ skin crawl.
Suspended in viscous fluid, embryonic forms with distinctly quen’talrat features floated motionless. But these weren’t natural embryos. Extra limbs budded from torsos, chitinous plates grew where fur should be, and cranial structures had been deliberately modified into shapes that hurt to look at.
As she watched, one of the chambers pulsed with soft light. The embryo inside twitched, neural patterns flickering across modified brain tissue visible through translucent skull plates.
So, this facility is still active after more than a century, she realized with growing unease. The experiments are continuing automatically based on what I can only assume are on-going experimental evolutionary research protocols. The question is, her gaze drifted to the crystal substance, what were they trying to create…or was there an end goal in mind at all?
A soft chime drew her attention to the chamber’s base, where a crystalline tube had extended from the floor. The embryo’s development accelerated visibly, tissue differentiating at impossible speeds. Within moments, what had been barely formed now possessed recognizable features—albeit wrong ones.
The tube retracted, and a section of the chamber’s floor iris’d open. The fluid drained away as hovering arms came from underneath the platform, extracting the malformed creature, depositing it into a transparent capsule that then sealed with a faint hiss. More runic designs momentarily ignited across its surface before fading.
A drone—sleek, spider-like, and clearly quen’talrat in grand design—descended from the ceiling. It collected the capsule with careful precision before gliding toward an opening that led deeper into the facility infrastructure.
“Automated specimen release protocols,” Tiffany reported, her voice tight with fascination. “The system is continuing to develop and release experimental subjects into the biosphere—there’s data on the recent releases but I…can’t get into the archive, it seems. We need more clearance. But isn’t this perfect! It’s been operating autonomously for over a century.”
Well, it does mean I have many new potential advanced evolutionary soldiers… How many specimens?
“Based on these ‘active’ logs I can see…thousands in just the last year alone. Maybe tens of thousands. I can’t access everything. And, sweetie, some of these genetic templates…they’re showing not just quen’talrat modifications. There are a lot of creatures—”
The thélméthra drone she’d stationed outside sent a warning signal, immediately drawing Elinor’s attention as she took a few steps back to see it. Through the open door, she saw it shift abruptly, legs spreading in a defensive stance. Its glowing, gem-like inner eyes swiveled toward the observation windows, and through the Nexus, Elinor felt its alarm spike.
What is it?
Before the drone could direct her to what it sensed, something massive moved in the artificial sky beyond the windows. The flying wyvern-like creature they’d observed earlier—the one with the impossible hundred-foot wingspan—banking through the air with predatory grace. Sunlight caught its scales, revealing iridescent patterns that shifted like oil on water.
For a moment, Elinor watched it, moving back through the doorway as the quen’talrat remained close, quivering in fright. Her mother swiftly had Meno’rah bring her back to the floor to join her.
Has it spotted us through the invisibility shroud?” Tiffany inquired. “Carlos, you’ve been watching it, haven’t you?”
“Yes, Queen Tiffany,” he evenly responded as Elinor neared the drone, still maintaining its defensive posture as the wyvern made streaks of crimson light sparkle across the heavens in some sort of pattern. “The roaring in the background went quiet and that’s when it started to act up and the warning came.”
It moved with intelligence, adjusting its flight path to overshadow one of the artificial suns, wings beating in complex patterns that suggested aerodynamic principles beyond natural evolution—at least, that was a gut impression Elinor had from her past life’s experience bleeding through. Instinctually, she felt something that resonated with the impressions the drone was signalling.
It’s not hunting… It’s posturing. It’s trying to—
A streak of white light struck it from below.
[Rapid Mode: Activated]
Time slowed to Elinor’s mind.
The impact sent the massive creature tumbling through the air, its graceful flight dissolving into a desperate struggle for control. Dark fluid sprayed from wounds that Elinor immediately zeroed in on. They appeared too precise, too calculated to be accidental or random—whatever attacked this wyvern knew where to hit.
The flying creature’s death scream echoed across the vast chamber, a sound that made every quen’talrat in the lab whimper and press themselves against the walls. Carlos was already running to her side, but he was slow, his bull horns gleaming in the dying rays of the creature.
Movement, the thélméthra drone reported through simple concepts rather than words that Elinor’s heightened senses picked up on. Approaching. Fast.
Through the corner of her eye, Elinor caught sight of their attacker—a blur of motion that seemed to flow through the air rather than fly. The glimpse lasted only seconds in her accelerated mind, but she registered key details: bipedal, roughly eighteen feet tall, covered in what might have been chitin or modified hide.
It moved with the fluid grace of something that had spent years perfecting its hunting techniques. Elinor’s mind raced through options.
Release [Artificial Body]? It’s too accurate. It will target what’s left.
[Chain Break]? It won’t reach in time.
[Warlord: Soldier’s Spirit]? No spirit with the right attributes nearby to channel.
[Drain Life]? I’m not fast enough…
Dammit. I don’t have a choice… Well, this escalated fast.
[Minion Break: Activated]
[Warlord: Echoing Souls: Activated - Camelia]
[7 Day Cooldown]
Darkness erupted from beneath her feet as Elinor called forth one of her newest abilities, green flames erupting around her and every undead around her. The umbral figure of Camellia began to materialize, eight legs spreading into a defensive stance, but this version lacked the original’s intelligence and adaptability. It could follow simple commands, nothing more.
The thélméthra drone was the first to get between them as the shadow of its princess collected. Acidic projectiles erupted from specialized glands along the blurred figure’s arms, filling the air with caustic spray.
The drone took the brunt of the attack across its carapace. The Rare-Grade undead—designed for deep tunneling, hard defense, and adaptable substances—dissolved under the chemical assault like paper in acid.
Shadow-Camellia reacted instinctively, shadowy silk threads erupting to intercept the residual spray and at that moment Elinor knew—this creature was something worth concern.
Most of it struck the threads, eating through some of them, but enough penetrated to catch Elinor’s left arm. Elinor felt no pain, only focus as the monstrous thing loomed over her, silent within the air, fixating not on her, but the solidifying arachnid.
The creature stood nearly eighteen feet tall, its form a disturbing amalgamation of traits. Chitinous plates covered much of its torso, while muscular limbs ended in hands that possessed both quen’talrat dexterity and something more insectoid. Its face—if it could be called that—combined features from multiple species into something uniquely horrible.
But what struck her most was its eyes. They held intelligence, calculation, and something that might have been curiosity rather than mere hunger.
At that moment, Elinor didn’t hesitate, illuminated emerald eyes searing into the creature’s own gaze:
[Echoing Souls - Soul Summon: Activated - Camellia]
[0 Uses Remaining]
Immediately, the atmosphere shifted, the large arachnid shadow turning crimson and contracted as the humanoid vision of her Monarch of the Hunt materialized.
“Empress?!”
Her father would have been the more solid choice for defense, but defense wasn’t her style. Handle—
Camellia blurred into action beyond her mental acceleration, and so did the incredibly tall creature. It was gone.
The spider woman dropped down from a position from the wall, brow furrowed and looking confused. “It retreated up the shaft, Empress. I haven’t seen speed like that since my little sister, and I don’t get the impression it desired a fight. But,” her gaze shifted to the dissolving drone as everyone else tried to catch up, “I doubt I could have won in a prolonged fight, even with [Minion Break] active,” she noted, glancing at her flaming aura.
“Elinor!” Her mother’s concern flooded the Nexus as her fire immediately scooped up some of the acidic compound to exampin. “Your earrings—this isn’t acid at all! Did any of it—”
“Empress, I’ll—”
Carlos darted for the exit to reach the elevator but halted in his tracks at Elinor’s command.
“No, Mom, and Carlos, stop,” she stated with a sigh, examining the now missing left arm and spattered holes within her artificial body and outfit. “It’s gone for now and if Camellia would have trouble with it, as hard as it is to hear, you’d be eviscerated, Carlos.”
“…Understood.”
Elinor could see the burning anger in his twitching nose and the visible heat that released from it. His bull-like hot nature was coming out, which she had to clip. Typically, he had good control over it but she’d heard instances where he’d blown up at some people in verbal tyrades.
Mmm. That’s rather unfortunate. I was fond of this dress, she mumbled, spotting the quen’talrat practically petrified and on the verge of feinting. That thing just dissolved a Rare-Grade thélméthra drone like it was nothing…
Examining the flowing Death Energy leaking out of her body for a moment before moving on to the liquid, she noted that the floor was sputtering with runic designs, combatting whatever substance was seeking to erode it.
Reconstructing her body with a desire, she flexed her newly regenerated fingers, testing their responsiveness. This place is far more dangerous than I initially anticipated. And…this has become a massive problem… How would you rate its intelligence, she asked, turning to the princess.
Camellia’s gaze became curious rather than defensive. “Overall, I’d say it would be a good hunting target for me and would provide a challenge if I were alive. It’s smart enough to know we aren’t preventing its escape, recognizing it is caged, and where to go to escape. I’d need to digest some of its DNA to get a more accurate picture of its genetic signatures.”
I’m sure there’s something of its DNA you can gather from its escape or this substance it used, Elinor mused, watching the runic patterns continue their battle against the corrosive substance. Not acid, Mom?
“Some sort of,” she paused, tilting her head and trying to find the right words, “genetic catalyst. Something that breaks down biological structures to harvest or redistribute genetic material if redigested.”
Elinor stepped away from the compound while glancing between the broken down arachnid and the redheaded spider woman. That sounds disturbingly close to thélméthra princess and queen stomach fluid.
Camellia moved with predatory grace while her hair-like silk elongated, sweeping up samples to pop into her mouth. She went further toward the areas where the green crystalline ooze had pooled, also sampling that, her enhanced senses already working.
“You are not wrong, Empress.” She knelt beside the largest concentration near the breached barrier, her fingers hovering just above the substance. “It is…similar, though far less refined and efficient.”
Behind them, the quen’talrat miners pressed themselves against the walls, their terror palpable. Meno’rah’s voice came out as barely a whisper: “Empress, we should leave this cursed place. The Mad Breeder’s experiments were supposed to be forbidden… The Red King disapproved of her ways.”
Well, clearly, she managed to get Ke’Thra’Ma’s approval for this…or at least had it constructed and asked for permission. What exactly did Ka’Krisna’Terva hope to achieve? Azalea’s corpse wasn’t brought into the city until after Ke’Thra’Ma’s death and the Kings and Queens entered a civil war, all while being attacked by the allied nations.
Her gaze remained on Camellia as the redhead seemed to pause and puzzle over the crystal ooze. Her mother rushed back into the room to scan records, one of the apes helping her, though her body trembled.
“It doesn’t look like she returned to this particular lab… Judging off the timeline, this has been operating to her schematics or design. The only place for her to get samples of princess thélméthra DNA would be from the corpses.”
“Abominations,” another quen’talrat whimpered. “Not natural, like the Ke. The Mad Breeder was obsessed with producing something that could challenge the Ke. Things that should not exist. I suppose this proves the Blood Royals allowed her…excesses…because she flattered Ke in promising something of worth to battle.”
That lines up with his personality. Camellia?
“Interesting…” Camellia murmured, her expression shifting from curiosity to something approaching alarm. “The one that attacked you has similar DNA to this one, Empress… At least an 80% match and close enough to reproduce. The DNA signature is…complex. The one who attacked you is male, definitely, with evolutionary markers that…” Her voice trailed off as she continued her analysis.
“What is it?” Tiffany asked from inside the room, still perched on the female ape’s shoulder as she studied the holographic displays. “Don’t hold out on me. Give me something more concrete that I can look for in this—”
“Forty percent of this genetic material matches patterns I’ve sampled from jungle creatures, including insects, birds, and reptiles,” Camellia reported, her tone growing more serious. “Fifteen percent appears to be quen’talrat in origin, by far the highest percentile, and approximately three percent…”
She paused, her gaze meeting Elinor’s. “Three percent matches my species. Specifically, Azalea’s unique signature, if slightly altered where it was difficult for me to initially identify. I don’t know if I should be offended that they only used so little.”
Clearly, there’s a vision behind her madness, Elinor stated, glancing at the quen’talrat behind them, wailing softly, a sound that sent chills through the laboratory. Her expression soon hardened. “Perhaps they couldn’t add more and that was the problem. We know so little. Can you tell if it is a natural occurrence or deliberate modification?”
“Deliberate. The genetic integration is too precise for natural evolution, but it was specifically modified to not be a full organ like ours.” Camellia sounded personally offended now. “That is barbaric. It is our most beloved organ! The specialized compound is rough stone compared to our polished perfection, the enhanced neural pathways for rapid adaptation also comes from our genetics. It is as if they designed it to be flawed.”
The implications struck Elinor immediately as her mother absently replied.
“Actually, that is a good thing. It means they tried to put limitations on the experiment. Checks and balances… Not something I’d do. Then again, it could also be that she was looking for a particular mutation, not a perfect life form but a unique attribute.”
“That makes sense,” Camellia grimly replied. “The remaining forty-two percent of the female’s DNA is unknown to me, but given the sophistication of the modifications, I suspect we’re dealing with something that was specifically designed rather than naturally evolved in this biome.”
Elinor moved to the observation windows, gazing out at the vast ecosystem below where the massive wyvern-like creature had fallen. We can theorize later… Camellia, that creature down there—can you retrieve it? It won’t fit in the elevator properly, but we can fold pieces and dismember parts to get it to the surface. Its soul strength will tell us more about this zone.
Camellia followed her gaze, already calculating. “Absolutely.”
Do it, Elinor decided. A hundred-foot wingspan suggests at least Rare-Grade potential, possibly higher. Our first flying fortress in the sky. We can’t leave an asset like that lying in the open.
Her mother growled from the other room and Elinor could practically feel her mother scratching her head with annoyance.
“We’re so far underground that no other undead is near Nexus range to warn anyone. I’m sure your father is rallying troops now since you used a seven day cooldown to summon Camellia to your side. Still, sweetie, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but that will take time, and if that creature is still in the city.”
“I can go up right now,” Carlos offered, clearly wanting to do something of use.
Unfortunately, Elinor had to shut him down.
Be patient, Carlos. Elinor replied, strategically running through possibilities in her head as the redhead leaped off the platform, anchoring herself with her silk. I know it’s hard. And that’s all the more reason to secure what we can while we can, Mom.
Despite its run for the exit. That exit has a timed arrival and departure. Additionally, as you said, Dad is probably on high alert. Yes, Gwen, Lucky, and the other humans in the agricultural zone could be in harm’s way, but there isn’t much we can do about that right now. Camellia, how long do you need to get it just onto the platform, where we can dismember it?
“For a creature of this size, probably seven minutes to build a proper structure,” the spider-woman calculated. “The ecosystem’s scavengers are already gathering.”
Ignore them and focus on building the structure. Do it in five minutes. That should give us enough time to go to the elevator. Carlos, if you want to do something, work on that project, Elinor noted. Also, Camellia, take samples while you’re down there. I want to know what it feeds on while you’re down there.
As Camellia promptly got to work, entangling creatures and building the structure to haul up the giant wyvern, one of the quen’talrat—the youngest of those she’d brought—suddenly spoke up.
“Empress, the automated systems… If they’re still releasing specimens, how many creatures like that one could be roaming the deep levels?”
The question hung in the air like a death sentence. Tiffany’s fingers flew across the holographic displays, pulling up data streams that made her face pale.
“Based on the release logs I can access,” she began slowly, “thousands of specimens have been released over the past century. Most into the ecosystem below the surface level, likely in a subterranean zone, but some…”
She paused, checking another data stream. “Some were marked for ‘surface integration testing,’ like the one who attacked us. Each of them seem to have slight variations, as well.”
Surface integration, Elinor thought grimly. Clearly, it exceeded expectations if it managed to escape this zone. That settles it, she decided.
We’re implementing immediate lockdown protocols of this level. Camellia, after you retrieve the wyvern and you break it up, Carlos, I need you to bring it up and lock the doors behind you. Once finished, Cami, track our escaped creature’s path through the city. Find out where it went and whether there are other exit points we are unaware of. If you’re right that it just wants freedom, then it won’t bother the agricultural personnel.
“And if more hybrids attempt to escape?” Camellia asked, already creating a crane-like structure to lift it back onto the platform. A few curious flying creatures were already circling, seemingly unafraid of the arachnid. A few well-aimed thread spears solved that.
“Carlos, work fast,” Elinor replied.
He smiled, rolling around his neck and taking out an ax. “I thought I’d need this for the bushes, not butcherin’ giant flying lizards. Here’s to hopin’ it isn’t as tough as diamonds.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll reinforce it with my thread,” Camellia replied. “It is extremely tough, but I will leave areas pre-cut that you can utilize.”
Elinor turned back to her mother, sitting atop her terrified mount. Their terror was understandable—they were witnessing the legacy of one of their civilization’s dreaded queens.
Mom, are there other facilities like this one on record? Other observation or research stations here, where Ka’Krisna’Terva might have conducted her research? I can imagine there are some deeper below the surface. This floor is likely far more in scale than we first thought.
Her mother sighed and scratched her temple, sliding through hologram data that spiraled around her like DNA. “Nothing here, sweetie. Sorry. All of this is recent data.”
Meno’rah cleared his throat, shuffling closer. “Empress, actually, there were rumors—I’ve been talking with many of the others you’ve raised, and some say the northern mountains were where the Ke had his research zones, where he’d take all the Kings and Queens to instruct them personally. One heard an elite researcher call it the Halls of Enlightenment.”
Elinor’s mouth became a line. Below, she could see Camellia moving with lethal efficiency across the air, her form barely visible among the sea of silk she wove, hauling up the fallen wyvern. The creature’s iridescent scales still caught the artificial light, even in death—a beautiful predator that seemed to have ruled the skies, until something even more dangerous had brought it down.
Well, that isn’t something we can investigate right now, but it is valuable information, Meno’rah… Mom, do you know how many of these wyverns there are and its scale within the biome?
Her mother forced a laugh as she left the research room, closing the door and heading for the exit as Camellia neared her complex platform construction for Carlos.
“Well, to put it into perspective, I think this zone is much larger than we initially thought beneath the crust. I saw ‘volcanic spires’ listed which seem to indicate that they’ve channeled the magma flows and have specific areas for those biomes that go further than the city’s structure. It could cover the whole valley…or more.”
She ran her fingers over one of the wing scales as it was brought into position, eyes sparkling now. “This is considered a low B-tier predator of the skies here. A being the highest. I don’t know how they rate the scaling, but that is pretty telling, I’d say.”
It only confirmed Elinor’s initial plan to lock the door near the agricultural zone that allowed access to these restricted zones.
This will be a monumentally important zone when I want to push levels and explore new undead, but, for now…I have enough to worry about with 50,000 people coming to my empire. We must have a stable, safe zone for them first and foremost.
And, right now, I need to call together the human and ri’bot leadership to go over our plans for this week. Some of our first arrivals will be coming. Including…
She caught her mother’s immediate scowl and flash of discomfort. “My envious, husband-loving little sister…having made the trip all the way from France. Goodie…”
Elinor wasn’t so sure about that framing, but her mother would know more than her. In any case, it would certainly be quite the reunion. And maybe she’d obtained some form of powers, as well.
She’d see soon enough.
--------------------
