Extra's Sign In System: The Hero's an Idiot!

Chapter 91: The Legacy

SQUELCH. DRAG.

Bram and Aegon hauled the colossal, dripping Rank-A core out of the underground bunker and tossed it onto the concrete.

The squad did not sleep in the lab. The smell of dead spiders and acidic blood was too suffocating.

Instead, they retreated to the surface, establishing their camp inside the shattered shell of a pre-fall bank.

CRACKLE. POP.

A small, smokeless fire burned in the center of the room.

SHHHHK. SHHHHK.

Reina dragged a whetstone down the blade of her ice axe in a slow, rhythmic motion. Nyx and Lucien quietly discussed patrol routes by the shattered vault door.

Draven sat near the fire. He reached into his spatial ring.

CLINK.

He set the sleek, Old World USB and the rectangular playback device onto the cold concrete floor.

"Hey guys! Look what I found! I found this sealed inside a specialized Old World alloy case near the Hive Mother’s nest," Draven lied smoothly.

"It is an old tech but it survived the acid. It looks like a military-grade pre-fall tech. What do you think?"

CLATTER.

Cole Rust dropped his rifle immediately. He scrambled over, his eyes wide as he inspected the smooth metal casing.

Lyra slid over next to him, her chaotic energy suddenly replaced by sharp, focused curiosity.

"The power cell is still active," Cole breathed, wiping the dust off the lens.

"It’s a holographic projector. Quite a wonderful piece of ancient modern art. If this still works, then they may have left a message for us. It could be valuable as it may contain the words of our Ancestors."

CLICK.

Cole pressed the center dial.

BZZZZT-HUMMM.

The device vibrated. A beam of pale blue light shot upward, projecting a grainy, flickering three-dimensional image of a man in a white lab coat.

He looked exhausted, his hair unkempt, standing in a pristine version of the underground lab they had just bled in.

KZZZT.

"Log Entry. Day 1," the scientist spoke, his voice distorted by decades of time and static.

"The military has officially lost the surface. The Miasma is spreading faster than the Bastion walls can be built. But my team believes we have a countermeasure. We aren’t going to filter the red fog. We are going to obliterate it. Project: Eden is initiated."

The recording flickered rapidly, fast-forwarding through dozens of fragmented logs. The squad gathered closer, captivated by the ghost of the Old World.

KZZZT.

"Log Entry. Day 45," the scientist appeared again. He looked older, more frantic.

"The blueprints for the Miasma Clearing Towers are complete. The theoretical math is flawless. A single tower can generate a purified, fifty-mile radius where monsters physically cannot breathe. But... the power draw is impossible. Nuclear cores corrupt in the Miasma. The only catalyst dense enough to power the Tower’s purification grid... is a Level 200 Boss-Tier Monster Core."

The scientist laughed bitterly, a hollow, broken sound.

"The military says it’s suicide to hunt a Level 200 King. We are at a standstill."

Aegon’s hands tightened into fists. A fifty-mile safe zone.

This was exactly what Lyra had joked about the night before. But it wasn’t a joke. It was real.

BZZZT-FZT!

The hologram violently flickered. The blue light turned harsh and unstable.

The scientist was bleeding from his forehead. The pristine lab behind him was bathed in strobing red emergency lights.

KABOOM!

The deafening sound of thick steel tearing echoed through the audio, followed by a chorus of terrifying, guttural shrieks.

"They breached the upper levels!" the scientist shouted over the chaos, coughing violently as Miasma seeped into his room.

"The military escort is dead. The project failed. We couldn’t build the prototype in time."

The scientist stepped right up to the camera. His eyes were filled with profound grief, but also a desperate, burning hope.

"I am locking the Eden Blueprints in the biometric vault. If anyone finds this... if humanity still exists up there... do not let this research die in the dark. Take the blueprints. Hunt the Kings. Claim the cores. Reclaim our world."

SKREEEEE!

A massive, multi-eyed shadow dropped from the ceiling behind him.

CRUNCH. KZZZT-

The recording abruptly cut to black. The blue light vanished.

The silence in the ruined bank was absolute, broken only by the crackle of the campfire.

Natalie wiped a tear from her cheek. Aegon stared at the dark projector, his jaw clenched so tight the muscles jumped.

"They had the answer," Cole whispered, his hands trembling as he picked up the Old World USB.

"A fifty-mile safe zone per tower. Aegon... if we can build these... we will have the ability to create a safe haven for the Humans. We can completely kill the Fog!."

"A Level 200 Core," Reina stated grimly.

"That is Lord Commander Goldmane’s tier. That is a King of the Wildlands."

"Then we will become strong enough to kill Kings," Aegon declared, his voice hard as iron.

The Vanguard leader looked at his squad. The determination in his eyes was blinding.

"We are keeping this USB completely off the Vanguard’s radar for now," Aegon ordered.

"If the information of this device spreads and reaches the Cult, they will not hesitate to launch a full blown assault on us."

The squad nodded in unison.

Draven watched the dramatic scene unfold from the corner. He kept his expression solemn, but internally, his mind was racing.

’That’s why I chose him as the new Hero! He has a decent head on his shoulders.’

Draven fully intended to have Cole and Lyra build the first Tower under the banner of the Embracing Hands, securing Draven his own absolute territory.

"I’ll take the first watch," Draven volunteered quietly, grabbing his black bow.

"I’ll take the second," Lucien offered, leaning back against the wall.

Draven walked to the shattered window of the bank. He looked out into the dense, swirling red fog of the ruined city. He made sure no one was looking at his back.

He closed his eyes.

DING!

The golden interface materialized in his mind.

He had 50,000 System Points burning a hole in his inventory. It was time to push his limits. When he originally awakened his S-Rank [Vector Manipulation], the System had explicitly stated it was an evolvable skill.

"System," Draven commanded mentally. "Upgrade Vector Manipulation."

[Processing Request...]

[Vector Manipulation is currently S-Rank. Upgrading to SS-Rank threshold requires 30,000 System Points.]

[Confirm transaction?]

"Confirm," Draven replied without hesitation.

VWOOOOOOM.

A terrifying, silent shockwave of pure kinetic energy pulsed from Draven’s core.

The red fog outside the window was violently repelled, creating a perfect, invisible ten-meter vacuum around his body.

He felt the sheer, crushing weight of physical forces bending entirely to his will.

[Transaction Complete. 30,000 Points deducted.]

[Skill Evolved: SS-Rank Vector Manipulation.]

[New Application Unlocked: Absolute Vector Domain. Host can now freely manipulate the direction and magnitude of all kinetic, gravitational, and magical forces within a 10-meter radius without physical contact.]

Draven opened his pitch-black eyes. A faint, invisible distortion warped the air around him.

He didn’t even need to touch his arrows anymore. Within ten meters, he was a god of physics.

He still had 20,000 Points left. He needed mobility.

"System. Open the Survival Skill shop," Draven ordered.

"Purchase a spatial displacement skill."

The golden screen flickered, highlighting a specific tome.

[Skill: Void-Step (Teleportation)]

[Cost: 20,000 System Points.]

[Description: Instantly displaces the host’s physical body through the spatial plane. The maximum range is directly tied to the host’s total mana reserves and proficiency level. Current Base Range: 500 Meters.]

"Buy it," Draven commanded.

FWOOSH.

’I had been eyeing these skills for a long time! And now that I have enough points to spare, I can finally get it.’

A cold, chilling sensation washed over his mind as the spatial coordinates of the world suddenly clicked into place.

He looked at a rusted streetlamp five hundred meters down the ruined street, completely obscured by the red fog.

With a single thought, he could be standing on top of it.

Draven leaned against the cold concrete wall, his pitch-black eyes tracking the red dots moving in the fog on his World Map.

Let the monsters come. He was ready.