Unholy Player Chapter 539 Foreign Memories

"Why don't we move our discussion indoors, somewhere more relaxed?"

Henry suggested, guiding the others toward the elevators before ascending to the chilled chamber on the building's uppermost level, reserved specifically for visitors of this nature.

This space served more than just containment purposes now. Although the sturdy, fortified barriers remained intact, it had evolved beyond mere imprisonment.

During the recent months, enhancements had transformed the area. Integrated weaponry now formed part of its framework, designed to counterattack as a final defensive measure.

Doubts lingered about its potency against Rank 4 Practitioners or the extent of harm it might inflict. Nevertheless, it surpassed the futility of facing an adversary's dominating force without recourse. At minimum, it could enable a counterthrust.

Henry entered the elevator alongside the two Blood Path Practitioners, accompanied by Zephan and Liora. They descended one level, the doors closing with a subdued clunk.

Selina, Rhys, and a multitude of soldiers in white attire stayed on the rooftop.

"Evacuation finished?" Rhys inquired, turning his gaze to Selina.

"The main structure and nearby districts are emptied." Selina consulted her wristwatch as real-time reports updated. "All non-combatants and personnel have been removed."

Rhys maintained his stoic facade. His attention shifted to the disciplined ranks of soldiers encircling them. "We should relocate these forces too."

These white-clad warriors weren't standard infantry. Each had been meticulously selected from STF ranks and unsuccessful Players.

They represented the elite, formed for a singular objective.

To hone their abilities and ready them for impending awakenings.

Similar to Rhys, each possessed the capability to reach Rank 3 upon awakening. This rendered them invaluable to humankind, unworthy of squandering against such perils.

Selina shared this view. She issued the order, and hoverjets swooped in successive waves. They departed in measured salvos, ferrying the soldiers from the roof until the formations dispersed.

Shortly, just the two leaders stood isolated on the helipad, upholding their duty. Should complications arise below, they had to ensure Henry's withdrawal path remained viable.

Following several silent moments, Selina eyed Rhys once more. "So... how does it feel?" Rhys met her look, arching a brow. "Feel about what?"

"Bearing his Path." She voiced her intrigue openly. "Following a creation of Adyr's."

Among a select few, she was aware Adyr had forged a Path. She understood too that he slumbered presently, recovering his vitality.

Yet details eluded her regarding the Path's nature or its impact on bearers.

Rhys had grown accustomed to such probes. Researchers bombarded him with comparable queries daily. He replied with his standard refrain.

"It's awful."

Selina's eyes widened briefly. "Awful in what way?"

Rhys inhaled deeply. Instinctively, his fingers sought the pocket of his jacket for his trusty flask. Tension creased his features upon realizing he'd forgotten it in his quarters this morning.

"I've been having dreams. Far too many."

Selina's stare intensified. "Dreams of what?" She discerned the profound distress etched into his features from these nocturnal visions. For a Rank 3 Practitioner, slumber held little necessity, particularly for Rhys. His [Resilience] attribute fortified both physique and psyche, allowing brief repose to dispel weariness. Still, the ritual of sleep persisted as a lingering custom he resisted abandoning completely. "My history." His eyes wandered skyward, pale irises reflecting the drifting white clouds. "Relived recollections. As if I'm reliving them anew."

He faltered briefly, then pressed on.

"Yet certain ones feel... off. I rouse, and they vanish from memory. Or fragments linger, yet defy logic."

Selina remained silent, permitting his words to flow.

Rhys halted, grasping at elusive shards he might articulate. "In those, I'm not myself. Merely an observer. As though peering through another's gaze."

Selina observed the deepening scowl on his visage. A subtle quiver afflicted even his eyes. The burden was palpable.

"You suspect they're his?" she ventured. "Adyr's?"

Rhys turned to her, his response laced with acrimony. "I pray they're not."

Enduring mere glimpses of such visions proved harrowing, and often he couldn't retain or comprehend them fully.

Thus, the notion that another had endured the entirety as authentic recollections was a fate he'd spare from all.

The party exited the lift and traversed the extended hallway, arriving at a massive portal.

The drone advanced and paused by the interface. It lingered motionless, seemingly awaiting approval.

Suddenly, the panels parted ponderously, accompanied by a piercing tone, exposing the figure within.

"Thanks for arriving." Henry Bates welcomed his visitors courteously.

He inclined his head modestly, extending due deference. "Permit a formal introduction. I'm Henry Bates, acting as the City's representative in our Ruler's absence."

Arvyn, and Kaelor in particular, regarded him with odd expressions.

The entity they'd conversed with via the drone now manifested as a commonplace human, catching them off guard, akin to the voice emerging from its mechanical confines into corporeal form.

Yet this evoked no letdown in Kaelor. Quite the contrary.

His gaze fixed on Henry with anticipation. "Are you a Creator?"

A Creator need not be artificial; any possessing the gift to birth life from alloys sufficed.

Henry grasped the Mechari's hopes and motivations, responding fluidly with composed inflection. "Regrettably, I'm not the individual you seek." He avoided prolongation. "Rest assured, I'll arrange your encounter shortly."

Internally, he envisioned touring the fabrication facility for drones and transports as sufficient to captivate him. For the present, he courteously requested patience.

The Mechari refrained from pressing. Having pursued this goal across his existence, a brief delay posed no issue, especially to honor decorum. "Do enter. I suspect we have much to deliberate and explore."

He ushered them in and secured the entrance, enclosing all within. The chamber proved unadorned and compact, featuring four stark surfaces and a lone central table encircled by inviting seats.

The climate was temperate, and insulation rendered it eerily silent. Tranquil to the point where pulses echoed audibly. The atmosphere bore no aromas, infused solely with pristine oxygen, devoid of any olfactory hint. It evoked a pristine void, stirring notions of oblivion. Rather than unease, it fostered an overwhelming tranquility.

Despite this realm's stark divergence from Earth and the extraterrestrial origins of his guests with alien customs, Henry excelled in interpersonal dynamics. He assumed command of the session without delay.

"Choose any chair." He proceeded to the table's forefront and claimed a position affording clear views of all. "Settle in comfortably." Henry bypassed formal protocols somewhat. Though mortal, he occupied his spot prior to his Rank 4 visitors, prompting a brief flash of irritation from Arvyn.

She alone displayed umbrage, though she concealed it swiftly without escalation. Ultimately, she sat.

Having witnessed sufficient evidence of this species' might, she recognized their prowess. Thus, despite his mortal status, prudence dictated suppressing her ire.

Once all were positioned, Henry upheld his role as host and authority. He delved straight in, eschewing preliminaries.

"Care to share why you aligned with this Blood Sect, or whatever its name?"

His approach aimed to discern his visitors' motivations and essences first, enabling tailored incentives to sway them later.

Kaelor responded promptly, launching into his account sans reservation.

He detailed his people's plight, their reliance on Creators for propagation, elaborating thoroughly—including the Mechari's essence and lifestyle.

His zeal for encountering a Creator bordered on fervor, compelling full disclosure without omissions or fabrications.

Upon conclusion, with Henry deeming his insights ample, attention shifted to Arvyn.

As she commenced, a singular term crystallized in all minds, perfectly encapsulating her.

Insanity...