A Mutant Collector Quest

Chapter 192: Chapter 191: Antique Golden Path



"That… was close," I say, relieved and happy to be back in the kaleidoscopic expanse. The realization also sinks in—my attack probably wouldn't have even registered as a prick to the monstrous entity.

"Yes, it is never a pleasant experience to have your mind corroded by the Master of Darkness himself," comes the serene voice of the Ancient One in my mind. I feel a soothing, balm-like sensation spread through my astral form, calming my frayed nerves.

"Was that... the big face, Dormammu, inside my mind just now?" I ask, astonished. My thoughts race as I confirm that my Psychic Immunity power is still active. But then, a troubling question arises: how am I able to converse with the Ancient One when my psychic defences are supposed to be absolute?

Is it because I am technically an Astral spirit, so my psyche isn't affected in the same way? Or is magic not included in its supposed invulnerability? Or worse—are they so powerful that my 'Impregnable Mind' isn't as impregnable as I believed?

I find myself hyperventilating a bit. More than the experience itself, the real blow comes from the realization that I can't blindly believe whatever power makes me feel is true. "As I thought, everything needs to be tested… so I can find its true limits," I mutter, stabilising and straightening my thoughts.

"Are you alright, Luke?" The Ancient One's calm tone interrupts my spiraling thoughts. "That was a mind attack. Such things are common when one ventures into the Dark Dimension, but the one you experienced was a bit different. It was Dormammu himself targeting you. Judging by how easily you recognised and named him, I assume you are already familiar with who he is," she says, her voice steady and calm. "The good news is that you were nearly out of his domain, so his attack barely touched you. Otherwise, it might have been far more difficult for you to return," she adds nonchalantly.

"Teacher... at least pretend to show some worry for your precious student!" I say, trying to sound pitiful.

"But I can always excuse myself by saying that you haven't officially started learning at Kamar-Taj yet. So in the end you are just a student in name," she replies with a playful laugh.

"Teacher, how can you say that? How can you abandon your student like this?" I cry out, feigning despair.

"Alright, alright. Stop faking it. You are unharmed, and I already sensed your resolve. You were ready to face Dormammu, even in your mental world. How could I abandon such a brave and resourceful student?" The pride in her voice is evident.

"Then maybe, as a reward, teacher could consider giving me that OP defensive artifact we talked about?" I ask, my dream of being decked out in powerful items still strong.

"It seems I might need to pull you back to your physical form after all—there could be residual damage I overlooked," she replies in a sly tone.

"No, no, teacher, I am perfectly fine! I want to explore more!" I quickly say, abandoning my plea for artifacts. Her amused laughter echoes in my mind as I begin explaining my experiences in the Dark Dimension.

"Did you truly sense such immense magical potential in the girl who called herself the princess of the realm?" the Ancient One asks curiously.

"Yes, Master," I reply, finding it odd that she doesn't already know about Clea. "In fact, I am a little worried that you might remove me from your personal student's position if you see her, so it's probably best if only I make contact with her directly," I add sheepishly.

"Alright. I will stay out of the way of your 'alien romance,'" she teases. "But do stay vigilant. The Dark Dimension is far more dangerous than you can imagine," she warns, her tone turning grim.

"Understood, teacher. Your personal student will not hesitate to call for your help if needed," I say with a cheeky grin.

"I have never officially accepted you as my personal student," she counters lightly. "Though, I might arrange for the other Masters to train you twice as hard when your studies officially begin."

"Ah, teacher, I think I am ready to choose the next path now!" I say hurriedly, trying to divert her attention from that ominous threat.

As I glance at the branching paths, I notice my clothes have reverted back to my old ones. The purple robe I wore earlier has vanished—perhaps Clea's magic only works within her vicinity?

While idly pondering the extent of Clea's magic, I float forward and declare, "I have chosen a path, teacher." My voice is calm as I hover above a golden and red path, opting for one that looks less menacing this time.

"As you wish," the Ancient One's steady voice resonates in my mind, providing a comforting reassurance. Her silence last time had led me to the Dark Dimension, so I trust that her approval this time will lead to a safer place.

As I fly above the path, the colours of the path catch my attention. The gold has an antique, almost rustic feel, and the red is subdued, like faded embers rather than bright flames.

[Path: 15 (Roll: 43/100) Antique Gold and Red: A rich and warm combination of colours, exuding an air of regal authority.]

The end of the path comes into view, its edges marked by a faint crack. Familiar with the process, I take a deep breath and silently pray to the Ancient One that no terrifying dimensional gods await me this time. Putting my brave face on, I step through the crack.

Blinding golden and yellow lights greets me instantly. Shielding my eyes, I realize the lights are artificial, emanating from all directions. I also find myrself surrounded by cubical and rectangular metal boxes with glass walls.

"At least I am not floating in space this time," I mutter with a sigh of relief, noticing the firm metal floor beneath my feet.

Looking around, I also notice that the boxes aren't just on the floor—they are hovering in the air, an almost countless number of them creating a maze-like structure. They vary wildly in shape, colour, and size, from palm-sized containers to massive ones, some so enormous they could dwarf me entirely. Most have opaque glass walls that obscure their contents, though I catch fleeting glimpses of moving shadows within a few.

"I don't think I am in friendly territory this time," I mutter, immediately activating my Invisibility. I glance around, scanning my surroundings but find no visible surveillance cameras.

Taking a deep breath, I test the air—it's breathable. The atmosphere is cool, sterile, and faintly tinged with the subtle hum of advanced machinery.

My eyes fall on the floating metal boxes hovering in the air, their sleek surfaces reflecting the dim light. The technology here is clearly far more advanced than anything back on Earth. Without D.A.I.S.Y. or my Focus device, I doubt I would be able to even detect whatever futuristic surveillance systems might be watching.

Edging towards a nearby box, I peer through its glass wall. Inside, I spot a blue-skinned alien with elongated ears and intricate armour. Its eyes are closed, and it stands unnervingly still.

"Is that a Dark Elf?" I whisper, intrigued by its appearance.

Suddenly, its dark eyes snap open, and it slams its fists against the glass, glaring directly at me.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

The golden-yellow lights abruptly shift to a deep, pulsing red as a blaring siren echoes throughout the space.

BEEP-WARNING-BEEP-INTRUDER ALERT-BEEP-WARNING-BEEP

A mechanical voice in an alien language booms from unseen speakers. The sound sends me retreating from the box, my heart racing. A sinking realization hits me—this is either a high-tech cargo facility or an alien slaver's den.

I am still puzzled as to how they managed to locate me. As right now I am both Invisible and in my Astral form! Perhaps their technology is so advanced that it can penetrate both Thermal and Visual Invisibility.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

I turn to see a metal gate slowly sliding shut in the distance, followed by a series of other gates behind it closing one after another in rapid succession.

I am not particularly worried though. In my Astral form, physical barriers like walls are hardly an obstacle, as I can just phase through them. Still, I instinctively shift my position, moving farther away from the agitated Dark Elf's box.

Suddenly, the boxes resting on the ground begin to hover, rising smoothly into the air. The ones already aloft ascend even higher, drifting towards the seemingly endless ceiling above.

Realizing they might be tracking pressure changes or vibrations on the floor, I start hovering in midair using my Astral form's flight. Looking up, I am struck by the surreal sight of countless boxes levitating higher and higher. The ceiling seems impossibly far away, almost like an optical illusion, its true height indiscernible.

Just as I was weighing the idea of leaving the room and making a quick escape, a series of boxes from above descend rapidly to the ground.

SWISH!

I watch with growing curiosity as all their sleek glass walls slide open with a soft hiss. Inside, rows of humanoid robots are revealed—gleaming, white, and eerily pristine.

In perfect synchronization, the boxes open simultaneously, releasing their mechanical occupants. Tens of robots step out in flawless unison, their calculated movements precise and deliberate.

Their every movement was accompanied by a soft, harmonious HUM, the sound of their servos and joints moving with almost musical precision, as though perfectly attuned to the systems around them.

Then, with an unsettling fluidity, the robots' hands unfold, revealing cylindrical barrels embedded in their arms. The weapons extend with a sharp CLICK, aiming outward in all directions like a well-rehearsed drill.

All of these robots march forward, their targeting systems sweeping the ground in every direction, their movements cold and mechanical, devoid of hesitation.

"Efficient, but predictable," I mutter under my breath, safely hovering above the chaos. The robots showed no sign of detecting my presence, their sensors apparently incapable of perceiving my astral form.

As I survey the scene, I can't help but be impressed. The ground below is now teeming with more than a hundred of these machines, their stark white frames forming a sea of technology.

SWISH!

A subtle yet distinct sound echoes from above as more of those boxes begin to open.

My gaze snaps upward, and I see hundreds of flying drones emerging from various metal boxes. Sleek and ominous, they hover effortlessly, their metallic frames gleaming under the sterile light.

The situation takes a sharp turn for the worse. Hundreds of white robots crowd the ground below, and now, a swarm of drones fills the air above. The sheer number of them is overwhelming, and a sense of danger prickles at the edge of my thoughts.

But then—everything stops.

The drones halt mid-air, their movements perfectly synchronized. The robots on the ground freeze in place, their heads tilting upward.

All of them... turn to face me!

****

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