The chic workspaces and server rooms of the lower floors gave way to steel and stone as Alarion ascended. Gone were the glass conference rooms, the gleaming metal fabrication devices, and delicate light fixtures. Security was practical, precise, and clean, laden with heavy blast doors and head-pounding fluorescence.

Alarion had intended on stealth but abandoned that plan almost immediately when faced with neat, well-lit, straight corridors. Sierra, perhaps, could have hidden. Had she broken a light fixture anyway. But no amount of preternatural stealth skills would compensate for the fact that there was nowhere to hide.

Even the doorways lay flush with the hall, opening not with a traditional push or pull, but with a touch to a small glass panel at their side. Their very audible hydraulics echoed further than they had any right.

With stealth out of the question, Alarion opted for confidence. He moved decisively, one eye always on Alex's map, to minimize his exposure to the roaming patrols of Soulless.

<So. Which one did you choose?>

<Hmm?> Alarion glanced down at his wrist. The digital man had been talking up a storm since they'd realized there was no sense in hiding, but most of it had been 'fun facts', not questions. The doors in security weighed 4,000 lbs each. There are 387.44 million miles of wiring and circuitry inlaid in the walls of the spire. That sort of thing.

<For your skill!> Alex pressed. <You narrowed it down to two, flipped a coin, and started walking.>

<Oh.> The young man looked at the map and lowered his voice slightly to match Alex's as he answered. <I didn't.>

<What do you mean you didn't? What, you can't decide? Don't tell me you are saving it for a dramatically appropriate moment.>

Alarion gave the bracelet a look.

<What? You give off that vibe.>

<You talk a lot.> There was a lull in the conversation, a break in the rhythm that even someone like Alarion could not overlook. <Alex?>

<Sorry. I'm just not used to having someone to talk to.>

Alarion winced, about to say something more, when a shrill whine interrupted their conversation.

<Turret!>

Alex's warning was just barely enough. Even with Awakened reflexes, Alarion only narrowly dodged the first two shots. Then he retaliated in kind. His greatsword raced the short distance between them and shattered the dual-barreled device that had emerged from a ceiling panel. But not before it fired off one final burst in reprisal.

Alarion's shield flickered into existence, pink light scattering off it like rain off an umbrella. Except these drops melted the tile and metal around him as they spattered onto surrounding surfaces.

<That will never stop looking weird.> Alex declared as the ruined turret sparked ahead of them. A second later, it gave way entirely, Alarion's greatsword clattering to the floor amid a pile of ruined machinery.

If Alarion had heard Alex's words, he didn't show it, his eyes glued to his glowing shield. <This is pretty strong.>

<Virtually invincible to most piercing and kinetic attacks. From my time, anyway. I can't begin to guess how it would hold up to 'magic'. Watch out for blunt force, though. Before combat emulation was practical, 'kill the meat' was a common battle tactic. Hit the hard shell with enough force to concuss or liquify what was inside. High temperatures for over a few seconds will also cause it to overheat.>

<Good to know.> Alarion gestured to the fractured machine as he collected his weapon. <How did it know to shoot me?>

<The same way the sentries do.>

<Someone is in there? Someone like you?>

<Someone was,> Alex said grimly. <Lower fidelity and shackled since they wouldn't need much more than optical processing and pattern recognition. Your first patrol is up ahead. There may be other concealed defenses; I cannot be sure. Are you confident about this?>

Alarion started in on a brash response, but bit his tongue. After a thought, he answered honestly. <I am not sure. I think so. No other way through.>

<Yeah. Can you do something first?> The tilt of Alarion's head was answer enough. <I am setting a timer, I need you to double tap to authorize it.>

<A timer for what?>

<In five minutes, this will wipe the drive. And me. Unless-> He strained that syllable to head off Alarion's objection <-you manually turn it off.>

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

<So if I die, you aren't trapped.>

<Yeah.>

<Can you lengthen the time?> Alarion asked with some hesitation. <In case the fight runs long?>

<Factory preset, I am afraid. It is easy to disengage and reset. Just double tap me again.>

Alarion tapped the bracelet as instructed, the moment it started to pulse with green light.

<Thank you.>

<Mm,> Alarion answered as he flexed his hands and stepped around the corner.

The three machines at the far end of the hall were similar in shape and concept to the ones Alarion had fought below, but even at a distance, they were recognizably more advanced. Gone was the monochrome blackstone aesthetic. These machines were trimmed in silver and gold, engraved with heraldry, their glowing green faceplates adorned with crests, crowns, and even a plume of feathers. Even their stone was polished to a mirror sheen, unlike the cold, light-absorbing models Alarion had previously faced.

Their movements were fluid, their bodies floating to and fro with a liquidity that outstripped their brethren. Even their armament was different, each carrying a wicked-looking spear with some sort of underslung barrel that reminded him distinctly of the turret he had recently destroyed. They were, in every way, superior models to the Soulless sentries he had fought with Sierra's help.

And he tore them apart in seconds.

His newest shifting ability was the biggest culprit by far. In another life, the fight would have been grueling. Possibly unwinnable. The soulless were over a hundred feet down a straight corridor, without an inch of cover or concealment. They would have laid on the fire at range, peppering him with shot after shot of their deadly weapons while he desperately tried to close the distance.

Instead, they got one shot, one solitary beam that struck nothing but the wall. Alarion could not reasonably hit his targets at such a distance, but he didn't have to. Throwing the 'dagger' into their midst was enough. A flicker later, a tearing of reality, and he was among them, his blade carving foes unprepared for his sudden arrival.

One fell. Then two. The third blocked Alarion's decisive blow with the haft of its spear, locking the two together in a deadly game of strength against strength. A game the Soulless could not hope to win. Alarion drove it to one knee. Then to its back. It released its spear to level an arm in his direction and lost the arm for its trouble.

Then he took its head.

<Unbelievable,> Alex's voice was brimming with awe as Alarion disengaged Alex's self-destruct. <And you say you're weak?>

<Compared to Vitrians. Or ZEKE.> He agreed. <Sierra is stronger than I am by a good margin. I am still mostly rank I.>

<You understand that these are military grade…> Alex trailed off. He'd have no better luck explaining the impossible to Alarion than Alarion did explaining the System. <Did you, what was the phrase? Level up?>

Alarion looked disappointed as he shook his head. <No. Not even close.>

You have slain [S̸̢̱̤͝͠M̶̼̩̉̆-̵̘̿̇̅4̷̣̞̗̍1̴͓̦̪̓͂̊Ạ̸̘̾ ̵̺̦͋-̴͉̅́͛͜ ̶̙͊̓̓C̴̼͆͆̚ͅȍ̶̪̣m̶̼̋̐̃͜ẻ̶̝̪̫͊t̴̡̺̘͐ – UCL Error]

Exception: Unexpected Subject

Full Traceback

Re-categorizing

You have slain [Soulless Soldier – UCL 106] – Bonus experience earned for slaying an opponent above your UCL.

UCL 106, compared to UCL 96. It was a jump, but not nearly the qualitative difference that Alex had led Alarion to believe he was getting himself into. In their element, if they could bring their projectile weapons to the fight, they could be dangerous opponents. But as it stood, they felt less threatening than some fiends.

The thought was arrogant. Alarion knew it. He'd grown by leaps and bounds in days. Logically, he knew that these things would have murdered the version of him that had come to the island only days earlier. Yet it was hard to square that reality because he didn't feel like a different person. Stronger, faster, and more resilient. But still just him.

<If you fought more of them?> Alex intruded, scattering Alarion's thoughts.

<If we fought all of them? Maybe. We would cut it close.>

The idea had been simple. Skills and levels increased his chances of survival. [Self-Motivated] had proven itself time and again as Alarion's most valuable skill. And he was awfully close to his 10th level in [Orphan]. If this Duke were as dangerous as Alex suggested, Alarion would need every advantage.

The only problem was diminishing returns.

The enemy was higher level than he was, and they were Soulless besides. Alarion gained a considerable bonus to XP gain from his Aptitude, and he was fighting alone. Forty-two Soulless and two dozen turrets should have been enough to push him over the edge. They should have.

The issue was that the fights were too easy. Too practiced. Battle after battle, Alarion teleported into reach of his foes and tore them asunder. Undeniably effective, but neither novel nor difficult. At 90% progress to level, the experience had dried up almost entirely, as had the flow of targets.

And Alarion's chances at one final level up.

<Nothing else?> Alarion inquired from his guide.

<We might have missed a few defensive emplacements on the dead-end branches, but nothing of substance.> Alex said after a moment's review. <You'll have to confront him the way you are. Preferably with that pending skill of yours.>

<I still haven't decided.>

<Yes, you have.>

Alarion grunted. Alex was right, but he didn't enjoy having to admit it. There was the logical choice and the emotional choice. He'd lost three coin flips to the rational choice, and still hadn't picked it. He was delaying the inevitable guilt. And satisfaction.

You have selected the skill Unyielding Defiance [Exceptional]. Is this correct? Y/N?

Please note, this selection is permanent.

This time, Alarion did not hesitate.

<What now?> Alarion pointedly ignored the new skill notification and the feeling of guilt that came with it as he turned his attention to Alex's map. ZEKE wouldn't be happy when he saw what Alarion had chosen.

<The central security hub is just above us. The nearest access is a few halls down. You go up, then you shut up. I'll do the talking.>

<You think I'll make it worse?>

<Probably,> Alex's voice positively dripped with sarcasm. <And I don't even think he speaks Ashadi.>

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