Another month passed.
And the thing Lucien had asked for was finally finished.
A simulation facility.
At first, the idea had sounded simple.
Then, as usual, simple beca offensive once Lucien touched it.
The facility stood near the academy district of the Middle branch. From the outside, it resembled a tower folded into a coliseum.
The idea had co from Lucien’s experints with the rged Origin Core fragnts.
He already knew the Origin Core could record.
But Lucien had push that function further.
Record experience.
And then manifest it.
That was where things beca difficult.
mories were not clean objects. A battle rembered by one person was not the sa as the battle itself.
Fear exaggerated. Pride edited. Pain blurred. Instinct filled gaps. Perception missed things. Even Lucien’s own mories were not perfect.
But the Origin Core did sothing terrifying.
It did not rely preserve what Lucien rembered.
It interpreted the mory through law, cause, sensation, intent, and impact.
Then it refined the record.
It corrected incompleteness where the structure of the event could be inferred. It stabilized movents that Lucien had only seen once. It preserved abilities based on their effect rather than Lucien’s limited understanding of their chanics.
The result was not a re illusion.
It was a combat echo.
Of course, manifesting those echoes required essence.
A lot of essence.
So Lucien and Seran had gone to the void again and gathered more batteries from Echo Zones.
When the first chamber finally activated, Lucien offered his own mories first.
He touched the Origin Core fragnt and willingly gave the record of his battles.
Severance. Convergence. Void monsters. Black Mass horrors. And many more.
The facility accepted them.
Then it manifested them.
Lucien fought Severance first.
He died.
The chamber dissolved before actual death could reach him, and Lucien reappeared outside the combat field with his body unhard and his dignity wounded.
Lucien said nothing and entered again.
Then died.
Again.
And again.
Against Convergence, the results were even worse.
If Lucien did not use his drops and simply fought with raw skill, law, and reaction, he lost far more often than he won.
That bothered him.
Not because he hated losing.
It bothered him because the facility showed him sothing he had been avoiding.
So of his past victories had not been clean triumphs.
They had been timing, luck, desperation, surprise, and the unfair weight of his own cheat colliding at exactly the right mont.
Lucien stood outside the chamber after the fifth loss to Convergence, breathing slowly.
Seran ca beside him.
"You look offended."
"I am."
"At Convergence?"
"At myself."
Seran’s smile faded slightly.
Lucien stared at the sealed chamber doors.
"I won before. But here, when I strip away the perfect circumstances and repeat the battle from another angle, I lose too often."
"That is the point of training."
Lucien nodded.
"Yes."
Then his smile returned, sharper this ti.
"That ans this place works."
Lucien agreed.
It was a way to fight monsters before eting them again.
A way to die a hundred tis in preparation so that the real death never ca once.
•••
Lucien brought the Origin Core fragnt to the simulation facility first, making it easier to test the structure’s functions.
The recording process had one rule.
Consent.
To record a person’s experience properly, the person had to touch the Origin Core fragnt manually and offer the mory willingly.
Lucien made that rule absolute.
The first test after Lucien ca from Anvil-Horn.
The old Solhorn touched the Origin Core with a deep frown.
"What should I rember?" he asked.
Lucien answered honestly, "The strongest opponent you still want to fight."
Anvil-Horn went silent.
Lilith stood nearby, arms folded, watching carefully.
For several breaths, nothing happened.
Then the Origin Core pulsed.
And soone appeared.
A woman.
A Solhorn.
Tall, powerful, proud, and beautiful in a way that made even silence feel respectful. Her horns curved with old dignity. Her aura carried warmth beneath strength. In her hand was a weapon shaped more for war than display, and her stance spoke of soone who had never learned to lower her head to anyone unworthy.
Anvil-Horn froze.
Lilith did too.
Lucien understood too late.
The old Solhorn’s face changed.
For the first ti since Lucien had known him, Anvil-Horn looked like sothing inside him had cracked open.
"Wife..." he whispered.
Lilith’s lips parted.
Her mother.
The mother she had never truly known.
The one who had died giving birth to her.
Among Solhorns, such a thing was natural enough to be accepted and cruel enough never to stop hurting. Strong offspring consud too much. The mother’s nutrients, vitality, and essence were drawn into the fetus with terrifying intensity. Many mothers did not survive the birth of powerful children.
Lilith had known this.
Knowing was not the sa as seeing.
The simulated woman turned her head.
Her eyes settled on Anvil-Horn.
Then on Lilith.
She was not truly alive.
Everyone knew that.
But the Origin Core had perfected the echo enough that the small movent carried weight.
Anvil-Horn’s hands trembled.
Lilith stood very still.
Lucien said nothing.
There were monts where words were just noise pretending to help.
After a long while, Anvil-Horn laughed once.
The sound was rough.
"Of all the things this place could show ..."
His voice nearly broke.
Then the simulated woman raised her weapon.
Anvil-Horn inhaled.
His grief did not vanish.
It straightened.
Lilith looked at Lucien.
She seed unable to hide the emotion in her eyes.
Lucien said gently, "Take your ti."
Anvil-Horn stepped forward.
"No."
He picked up his hamr.
His voice steadied.
"She would hate waiting."
Lilith swallowed.
Then she stepped beside him.
"Father."
Anvil-Horn looked at her.
Lilith’s gaze did not leave the woman in the chamber.
"I want to fight with you."
For a mont, Anvil-Horn looked at his daughter.
Then his eyes softened.
"Good."
What followed was not a simple battle.
It was a reunion conducted through weapons.
Anvil-Horn laughed during the fight.
Lilith fought harder than Lucien had ever seen her fight in a training field, not because she wanted to win, but because every exchange felt like a conversation with the woman whose blood, strength, and absence had shaped her life.
The simulated Solhorn fought them both with ruthless love.
She broke their rhythm.
Punished openings.
Forced Anvil-Horn back with old familiarity.
Struck Lilith’s guard and made the younger Solhorn’s Genesis Forging flare in response.
When the battle ended, Anvil-Horn and Lilith erged exhausted.
Neither spoke for a while.
Then Anvil-Horn looked at Lucien.
His eyes were red.
His smile was real.
"Good facility," he said gruffly.
Lucien smiled faintly.
"I’m glad."
Anvil-Horn turned away quickly.
Lilith did not.
She looked at Lucien for one quiet mont.
Then she said, "Thank you."
It was simple.
It was enough.
•••
After that, more records were offered.
The ancient beasts ca next.
Lucien expected terrifying mories from them.
He was not disappointed.
He was, however, slightly regretful.
Astraea placed her hand against the Origin Core and offered a mory from the Millennia War.
The facility shook.
Then sothing manifested inside the combat field.
A monster.
No.
A horror wearing the loose convenience of a body.
Astraea looked delighted.
"I hated this one."
The fight began.
Condoriano, Saber, and Kira entered together.
They still lost.
The watching ancient beasts grew very quiet.
Then they laughed.
They were excited.
Because now they could fight the horrors again.
And again.
And again.
They began dissecting the creature’s patterns. Where its instinct turned. Which attack forced it to commit. Which law fragnts it resisted poorly. Which regeneration cycle could be interrupted. Which movent was a feint. Which roar carried ntal interference.
Lucien watched them work and felt his satisfaction deepen.
This was exactly what he wanted.
The ancient beasts did not simply relive old nightmares.
They studied them.
They turned trauma into preparation.
More monsters followed.
Millennia War predators.
Extinct battlefield horrors.
Void entities.
Devourer variants.
And many others.
Then Noctryn asked if Covenant-Breaker could be added.
Lucien smiled.
"Already added."
The ancient beasts beca unreasonably happy.
One of them cracked his knuckles.
"I have wanted to tear that thing apart properly."
Seran looked at Lucien.
"They are enjoying this too much."
Lucien watched five ancient beasts enter a chamber together to fight a simulated Covenant-Breaker.
"They were imprisoned for a long ti."
•••
Then ca Eirene.
She stood before the Origin Core fragnt in silence for a long ti.
Several Lunarians were present.
Lucien noticed their unusual seriousness.
That already told him sothing.
This mory was not casual.
Eirene touched the Origin Core.
She closed her eyes.
And offered the strongest benign being she knew.
The facility dimd.
It beca less certain of itself.
A figure appeared in the simulation field.
Hooded. Human-shaped. Quiet.
There was no fluctuation from him.
That absence was what made him terrifying.
The figure stood there as if he had arrived before the concept of being noticed and had never bothered correcting the oversight.
Lucien stopped breathing for half a second.
He knew that shape.
He had seen it before in the Mural World.
The Human Ancestor.
The Lunarians around them lowered their heads in reverence.
Lucien looked at Eirene.
"How do you know him?"
Eirene did not answer imdiately.
Her eyes remained on the hooded figure.
When she spoke, her voice was soft.
"The Lunarians rember more than we say."
That was not an answer.
It was also not a refusal.
Lucien understood enough not to press.
The first person to enter against the Human Ancestor was Saber.
The fight lasted nine breaths.
He did not even understand how he lost.
That was the worst part.
One mont he attacked.
The next, the simulation ended.
He reappeared outside the chamber, unhard, staring at his own hands.
"I did not see the strike."
Seran entered next, because of course he did.
He lasted longer as if he was a little familiar with the enemy’s pattern.
But not much longer.
When he ca out, his expression was fascinating.
Lucien leaned closer.
"Well?"
Seran looked at the chamber.
Then at Lucien.
"Sa as usual. It felt like fighting a crowd pretending to be one man."
Eirene nodded faintly.
Lucien’s curiosity sharpened. The way he says that is weird.
He too entered.
The mont the simulation began, he understood what Seran ant.
The Human Ancestor moved once.
Lucien saw twelve possible attacks.
Defended against five.
Dodged three.
Prepared for two.
Then realized the actual strike had not belonged to any of them.
The chamber ended.
Lucien reappeared outside.
Silent.
Seran’s smile returned.
"Haha I guess you can’t win yet..."
Lucien looked at him.
"Maybe."
And just like that...
The Human Ancestor beca the strongest recorded opponent in the facility.
Not because his raw realm suppressed everyone.
Even at adjusted levels, he remained impossible.
His danger was different.
He fought like accumulated humanity.
Thousands of instincts, arts, improvisations, failures, victories, dirty tricks, noble sacrifices, battlefield lessons, and survival habits refined into one quiet figure.
He did not overpower opponents.
He made them feel late.
Lucien watched him through the observation glass and felt both dread and admiration and... a strange sense of familiarity.
The facility had found its summit.
For now.
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