The sensation was like falling into the deep Ice Sea, endless cold and darkness enveloping a warm body. No matter how you struggle, reaching up with your hand, you can never touch that gradually receding faint light above you; the oppressive suffocation grips your throat, and all you can do is keep falling until you reach the bottom of the Abyss.
In the end, nothing remains except the cold, leaving you only with the thoughts that dwell in the darkness, and gradually, you’re no longer clear how long all of this has persisted until even the last shred of consciousness drowns in that darkness.
"Comnce willpower evaluation."
"Electrodes live... recording values..."
Soone whispers in the dark, and it seems this isn’t the ti for death yet, so you open your eyes and return to this crazy world once more.
Galahad started coughing violently, spitting out a bit of blood under the translucent breathing mask. He was gasping for air as the machines roared, sending a mist laden with painkillers into the breathing mask.
His weary eyes scanned back and forth; all he saw were the steel walls and the horde of snakes etched onto the steel do. They were intertwining, devouring each other’s tails, their black scales as dark as the night, forming an eternal ring.
That was the Ouroboros, considered by so as a religious symbol, said to represent the cycle of life and death, or perhaps reincarnation. In mysterious Alchemy, it’s described as the crystallization of the soul. But Galahad knows well, in his impression, this thing only signifies one thing.
Infinity, perpetual motion.
It was a concept proposed by the first head of the chanical Institute, who invented the great steam engine. On that basis, he believed that there should be such a machine in the world, one that, once started, would never stop working, requiring no subsequent energy source. He adopted the symbol of the Ouroboros and nad that machine a perpetual motion machine.
Galahad’s chanical expertise is low, yet even he knows this contradicts the conservation of energy. Such a thing is absolutely impossible, but just like the wild fantasies of humanity, that head was certain such a machine exists, and so he established the Perpetual Motion Pump above the chanical Institute, pursuing the ideal machine until this very day.
"I thought you’d be in a coma for at least a week, but I didn’t expect you’d wake up so soon."
A voice sounded beside him as Nikola strolled over with a cup in hand, pale face marked by dark circles, walking so lightly it always seed he might drop dead the next second.
"How do you feel?"
Sitting down beside him, Galahad tried to move and realized he was encased in a semi-transparent container. The pale green liquid filled it, covering him, while leather and steel securely restrained him, and the fatal injuries slowly healed under the soak; on the other hand, tal cables also soaked in the water.
"Like a nightmare..."
Galahad said weakly.
Noticing his gaze, Nikola continued.
"Please understand, you’ve been corrupted by the Armor of Original Sin. If you lose control again, we scientists can’t contain you."
As Nikola spoke, he glanced around with a smile. Those people, dressed in uniforms like his, moved silently like ghosts. There were no unnecessary words, only the sounds of buttons being pressed and formulas being written.
There were young and old, so even reliant on large external circulators to sustain life while laboriously working. Each person here was a giant in their field, pushing humanity’s understanding of the world to its current edge.
The chanical Institute propels mortal technology, whereas above it, the Perpetual Motion Pump researches the pursuit of divine power.
This is the world’s technology center, the intellectual hub of the entire Ingwig. If these people were to die, Ingwig’s technology would stall for at least a decade.
"So this is your insurance?"
Galahad mustered so strength to look at the cables soaking in the liquid and asked.
"Of course. Above us is the Furnace Pillar. According to the queen’s approval, we have the highest priority power supply. If you lose control, I simply need to pull a lever, and you can experience what it’s like to be struck by Odin’s lightning."
Nikola forced a strained smile.
"But the sensation should be brief, not even a second. Without the Armor of Original Sin, your brain would be instantly scorched, your entire body carbonized into ash, and by pressing this drain button, you’d embrace the Thas River."
Galahad didn’t appreciate this joke and said.
"Nikola, you weren’t so full of nonsense before."
"One should have so solace for a terminal patient, right?"
"You think those damned cold jokes are comforting ?"
These lunatics have been underground too long; their ntal states really aren’t normal.
"Alright, let’s skip this unpleasant section."
Nikola’s eyes darkened, his face like dead water. He picked up the report sheet beside him and walked to the container’s edge, speaking to Galahad.
"Galahad, your willpower evaluation doesn’t look good. You’ve been contaminated by the Armor of Original Sin."
"Just tell the result. I am the Knight Commander, I know what the Armor of Original Sin is made of."
Galahad said lightly, indifferent to the so-called "incurable disease."
After a slight pause, Nikola slowly recited data from the report sheet.
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