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Chapter 158 - Pangea (XXXVII)
🕑 Added 2024-12-27 01:00:02 +0000 UTCDarius? It’s an odd name, but… why does it ring a bell?
“So, where to start?” His gaze locks onto mine, steady and unblinking. Despite his wild, untamed appearance, the way he speaks and looks at me feels oddly familiar—like we’re old friends meeting after years apart. Strangely, it doesn’t feel out of place.
Seconds stretch into what feels like an eternity as he remains still, his eyes fixed on me like a predator watching prey. But there’s no killing intent, only an unsettling patience, as if waiting for something unseen. Just as confusion starts to creep into my mind, he leans back in his chair, releasing a long, almost exasperated sigh.
“I’m not good at this,” he admits, his voice dark yet tinged with faint amusement. For a moment, something flickers in his eyes—something unreadable, sharp, and gone as quickly as it appeared. “Do you want to go to Houston’s place?”
The question hits me like a jolt. Houston’s… place? His cave? His house in this strange world?
I hesitate, trying to make sense of his words. But after a moment, I nod.
The environment shifts abruptly. We appear on a coast, the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before us. The rhythmic motion of the waves catches my attention—the first truly dynamic thing I’ve seen here.
While something still feels off and unreal—the water is too smooth, there’s no smell, and the colors are slightly muted—it’s undeniably alive compared to the sterile environment from before.
The refinement here is clear, each detail more intricate and deliberate, though still lacking the depth of reality itself. Is this some kind of construct? Did Houston… create all this?
I scan the beach, quickly recognizing its features—it mirrors the one on the island where we trained for countless days.
But that’s not what captures my attention.
No. It’s what stands tall at the center of it all.
A tower.
It rises from the ground like a sentinel, tall and commanding, its dark stonework intricate and deliberate. The base is broad and solid, every stone meticulously placed, each line and angle precise—a reflection of careful thought and dedication.
The tower maintains this same refined style as it climbs, seamless and consistent, yet as my gaze reaches the top, something feels… off.
It ends abruptly, the flat surface at its peak stark and empty, as if intentionally left unfinished. There’s no jagged ruin or chaotic debris—just a deliberate cessation, a blank canvas waiting for more.
I count the levels—nine floors in total, which means… eight staircases. The same number I’ve climbed in The Tower so far.
I stare at it, the weight of the realization crashing down on me.
So, you want to climb too, pal? A faint smile tugs at my lips as I take it in. It feels… so him.
I stare at it for a moment longer, then turn to my side where Darius stands calmly. I must admit, he has quite the presence.
“So, are you going to explain what is happening, Darius? Where am I? Who are you, really? What happened to Ayu, to Houston? Am I alive?”
Darius meets my gaze with a faint, almost amused smile. “You know, Houston and I have a sort of… privacy respect policy. But I imagine if it’s you, he wouldn’t mind. So, shall we go in?”
I raise an eyebrow. The fact that he’s intentionally dodging my questions grates on me. But… impatience will get me nowhere.
I nod, reluctant but curious. Together, we walk toward the tower’s entrance.
The door stands tall before us, plain and unadorned, made of simple, reinforced wood with evenly spaced metal bands. It’s sturdy and functional—practical, without any embellishment. The iron handle is smooth and untouched.
Darius steps forward and grabs the handle without hesitation. The door swings open, revealing the interior of the tower.
The first floor is stark and minimal. For some reason, I had half-expected it. It’s a circular white room, as plain as the ones I’ve passed through before. No details or features whatsoever—just stillness and an almost unsettling sense of perfection.
Darius doesn’t stop and moves up the first set of stairs. I linger for a moment, giving the room one last glance before following him.
The second floor is a stark contrast to the first. Weapons lie scattered around in an organized chaos. There’s a replica of my sword, my gauntlets, the sling—even weapons I’ve never used: bows and arrows, javelins, makeshift axes and hammers, spears. It’s an impressive assortment.
But what nearly makes me burst out laughing are the target dummies. Every single one of them has Chiara’s face crudely stuck on them.
I shake my head, suppressing a grin.
Darius says nothing, his pace steady as he climbs the next set of stairs. I follow, curiosity pulling me along.
The third floor catches my attention immediately. A massive holographic display dominates the center of the room, showcasing an intricately detailed map. It’s clearly Houston’s map of the stage, with vectors and paths meticulously marked. I stare for a moment, noticing how even the shifting landmasses are mapped out. Is Houston calculating that too?
We move to the fourth floor, and this one feels like a workshop. The walls are lined with sketches and notes—diagrams of creatures, annotated scavenged parts, detailed dissections. Long wooden tables are scattered with materials: bones, carapaces, and makeshift products like crude armors, backpacks, containers, and masks. It’s a survivalist’s haven, and I can’t help but feel a spark of admiration for Houston’s thoroughness.
Darius keeps moving, his pace unwavering. I follow.
The fifth floor is dimly lit, save for a glowing hologram in the center of the room. The display is intricate, showing the internal anatomy of the human body in a manner reminiscent of biology lab models—except far more detailed and visually captivating. My attention is immediately drawn to the neural pathways, highlighted in glowing lines that pulse faintly, almost as if alive.
Darius pauses near the entrance, leaning casually against the wall. "Hmm, perhaps you should check this one out first," he suggests, his tone light but carrying an edge of intent.
I hesitate, but my curiosity wins. I step closer, studying the hologram. It’s fascinating—the detail, the structure. The brain in particular draws me in, its uniqueness apparent even at a glance. As I focus, a message materializes next to the hologram, floating like a translucent panel.
Notes on Stage Progress - The Brain (Record 46)
Mapping the brain has proven to be a near-impossible task, even with my advanced capabilities. However, the information gathered thus far provides crucial insights.
Stage progress clearly increases the density of neural pathways, while enhancing their capacity to transmit higher pulses of energy.
The Pillar [11], however, remains an enigma. Attempts to delve into it using EM waves have been unsuccessful.
Is it static, or does it evolve alongside the neural pathways? Is it waiting for the pathways to match its potential?
Further progress through Stage 1 is essential for clarity.
I read the note, my thoughts spinning. This… this is Houston? These are his records? The sheer clinical precision of his writing hits me, yet there’s a distinct tone of obsession—scientific hunger—for understanding.
And what’s that—references? A link? I focus on the [11], and the note shifts to another.
Notes on Stage Progress - The Pillar (Record 11)
The pillar is an element that fundamentally separates our current brain from its human counterpart. Its origin remains unknown due to incomplete data from the white rooms, but its existence is undeniable.
From the earliest point of conscious awareness, the Pillar has been present at the brain’s center, connecting all.
It functions as both a generator and detector of EM waves, simultaneously the source and endpoint.
Its form remains undetectable, defying all visualization attempts, even under intense EM scrutiny.
The pillar also serves as the connective bridge between Darius [16], me, and Alonso, acting as our sole link to influence reality.
The words sink in, a strange mix of awe and unease settling over me. What the hell has Houston been doing? And Darius is cited here?
I glance back at Darius, who remains calm and collected, and then refocus on the new link.
Who Am I? A Treatise on Self - Darius (Record 33)
Origin:
Unclear. Hypotheses include:
Strong emotional stimuli—a cascade effect triggered during critical events.
Mutations [51]—biological or neurological alterations during evolution/stage progress.
Design by superior intent—a mechanism potentially initiated by those behind The Tower itself.
Random emergence—a byproduct of complexity exceeding thresholds.
Existence:
Darius is a distinct entity, much like myself. He represents a separate set of neural pathways—an independent system connected to the Pillar yet isolated from the rest of the body. This system exhibits self-directed thought, stores information, and manipulates EM waves through the Pillar. His presence offers significant insights into our shared systems, the evolution of neural pathways, and their progression alongside stage progress.
Development:
Darius’s current growth outpaces mine significantly. Estimates indicate his neural structure will reach parity with mine at approximately 7.8% stage progress. Beyond this threshold, it is likely we will advance at the same rate. This rapid evolution raises compelling questions about my initial development. Was my growth similarly accelerated until it aligned with Alonso’s?
Personality:
Darius’s personality diverges significantly from mine. He is confident, detached, and darkly amused—a stark contrast to my own analytical, measured disposition. This variance may reflect Alonso’s emotional turmoil at the time of Darius’s emergence (notably after that event with the-bitch-that-shall-not-be-named). Alternatively, it may be an inevitable byproduct of the system's complexity or a reflection of the part of Alonso’s mind that gave origin to him.
Future Possibilities:
Darius’s existence raises a critical question: Will more minds emerge? A third? A fourth? If so, what will be their purpose, their nature? More importantly, will this proliferation aid Alonso or undermine him? The potential for harm cannot be ignored.
Purpose:
Despite our differences, Darius aligns with the singular purpose of our existence: Alonso. His loyalty, while couched in his distinct persona, is undeniable. This shared purpose reinforces my resolve to monitor, guide, and collaborate with him, ensuring our existence remains a net positive for Alonso’s survival and growth.
My mouth hangs slightly open, unnoticed until I finish reading.
So Darius is… another Houston? Another mind inside my head? But why didn’t they tell me? Was it because Darius is still not complete? Or was it to avoid confusion, to prevent unnecessary distraction? Maybe Houston wanted me to focus solely on survival and progress without the added burden of knowing there’s yet another presence in my mind.
Hmm. I’ll have to ask that directly, I guess. But then again, none of this—while fascinating—answers my real questions. Where is Houston? Is Ayu fine?
I glance at Darius. Should I keep climbing this tower? Are the answers on another floor? And… why doesn’t he just tell me directly? Odd…
My gaze drifts back to the hologram. There’s another link in the last note I read. Mutations. A last note before heading up. I decide to focus on that one.
Who Am I? A Treatise on Self - Mutations (Record 51)
Mutations are an indispensable part of biological evolution. The question arises: do they exist in our state of accelerated evolution? Can mutations occur even though our progression seems guided by the orbs we absorb? If so, are Darius [33] and I products of a mutation that occurred during Alonso’s evolution? This hypothesis has merit. The emergence of independent, self-aware entities like myself and Darius may suggest an aberration—a deviation from the intended process.
If this is indeed a mutation, then another question follows: can it happen to others?
To explore this, I’ve analyzed the behavior and combat abilities of other Climbers [41], especially during the aftermath of the king lobster fight. Unfortunately, none exhibited traits that definitively suggested mutation. That said, mutations may present in vastly different forms—not all beneficial. Some could manifest as detriments, subtle or severe.
(Update): Ayu’s [12] behavior recorded in Memory - 618 presents an anomaly that warrants attention. Her ability to predict attacks and evade them before they even occur deviates significantly from previously stored data on her.
I hypothesize that Ayu’s brain may have undergone a mutation allowing her neurons to develop highly specialized synapses and enhanced myelin sheaths. These adaptations could transmit signals at exponentially faster rates, akin to biological overclocking.
While the theory fits observed phenomena, more data is required to substantiate this hypothesis and draw definitive conclusions.
For a moment, a cold shiver runs down my spine. All this information, this data—it feels… wrong. Plain, crude, stripped of any sense of morality or human nuance. And Ayu…
Well, to be fair, Houston never expected anyone to see this. Maybe he’s just wired differently, closed off in his world of science and numbers, detached from normal social interactions.
I sigh, unsure if I should ever bring this up with him or just let him be. Some things are better left unspoken, at least for now.
My gaze returns to the hypothesis about Ayu’s mutation. It’s interesting—does she really have this ability? And if so, when and how did it happen? Was it a slow, gradual adaptation, or did it emerge suddenly? Maybe someday we’ll talk about it… if the time is right.
There are more links now, branching off to information about Climbers, even Ayu herself. But this isn’t the moment for that. And honestly… I’m not sure I ever want to read them.
I glance back at Darius. He’s already stepping away from the wall, his movements calm, deliberate. He nods at me before continuing toward the next floor.
I give the hologram one last look, the neural pathways glowing softly in the dark room.
Where are you now, Houston?
