Alpha Strike: [An interstellar Weapon Platform’s Guide to being a Dungeon Core] (Book 2 title)

What was a “gun”?

Depending on who you asked, you would get different answers. Some would tell you they’re tools of death and destruction whose only use was to take a life.

Others would say they’re tools of protection to defend yourself, and those you care about, from harm.

Alpha had a different point of view.

A “gun” was nothing more than a means of delivery. Whether a bullet, a bomb, or even a beam of energy, a gun’s singular purpose was to deliver its payload to the intended target quickly and efficiently. Anything beyond that was fluff.

Guns didn’t kill people, after all. Bullets did.

With that “idea” in mind, Alpha had long reflected on what the “perfect gun” would look like. Would it be some advanced technology with all the bells and whistles? Would it be the one that could pack the most punch and do the most damage?

Or would the “perfect gun” be simpler than that? Would it be a delivery method so efficient, so effective that nothing could deny it?

With that question in mind, the [M8-223-Railjack] was born.

The Railjack might not have been the most sophisticated weapon in the Federation or even the most powerful, but this brainchild of Alpha’s did one job and did so perfectly. It had taken decades of tweaking and refinement to perfect it, to where even Mr. Hoffmann, [SEAU - 04], the Federation’s primary weapon smith, had given up on it. But Alpha never had. Something deep inside him, primal and unnamable, had driven him to continue. It had been an obsession for a long time, consuming Alpha’s attention like nothing else before.

But it had all been worth it in the end.

Those with untrained eyes might have called the Railjack “rough” or “unpolished,” but to Alpha, nothing had ever appeared more beautiful than the first time he’d printed a final stage [M8-223-Railjack].

It was simplicity given form, and yet, it was so much more.

Something changed in the temple air as a large metal rod was loaded into the Railjack’s central barrel. A heavy pressure swept outward, encompassing the ruins like a thick, wet blanket draped over everyone’s shoulders. Even the charging stone titan seemed to falter slightly under the strange weight.

The young man, Yutu, or maybe the thing inside of him, suddenly shot upright, his wide eyes locked on Alpha. His form flickered and reappeared before the small group of humans, hands outstretched. A dozen crystal shields materialized between Alpha and the group, just as Alpha inverted his own hex shield to do the same.

Thick tendrils of electricity raced down the length of the Railjack’s barrel, and then it happened.

Faster than the mind could perceive, faster than even Alpha’s optical sensors could track, the 50lb cobalt alloy rod vanished.

The shockwave generated was enough to create an absolute vacuum around Alpha for a moment, as the very atmosphere itself was pushed away with such force that a thin bubble of superionic ice formed. The bubble shattered, spraying razor-sharp shards of super-heated atmospheric ice in all directions. Alpha’s own hex shield shattered almost instantly, as did nine of the dozen crystalline shields behind it. The final three cracked and broke under the immense force only a moment later, barely lasting until the shockwave passed.

Conversely, the immediate area wasn’t so lucky, as the explosive shockwave decimated the temple, popping the ancient, hardened stone building like a fragile soap bubble.

The damage in the direction the Railjack had been pointing was no less devastating. The force of the 50lb projectile leaving the Railjack’s barrel at over Mach 150 had gouged a five meter wide trench through the ruined city, of which little remained. Even the copper forest that had sprouted among the ruins was nothing more than twisted slag in its wake.

As for the charging stone titan… what little remained of it was buried several hundred meters into the thick stone wall of the pit… in the opposite direction. One moment it had been charging head first toward Alpha, and the next, the front 3/4ths of the creature had been pancaked by the heavy rail slug and sent back the way it had come.

A moment later, Alpha’s sensors came back online slowly as he ran a damage report.

That definitely wasn’t supposed to have happened.

The [M8-223-Railjack] was powerful, sure. It could even punch through the armor of an orbiting cruiser from a planet’s surface. But that… that had been something else entirely. What had happened?

Before Alpha could run an in-depth analysis, a figure approached from behind. Protected from the heat by his thick armor, complemented by a layer of stone, Ulagan walked through what had once been the temple walls and stood beside Alpha. As the two stood there and watched the destruction, the 5lb, 100-ton yield nuclear warhead carried by the rod picked that time to detonate (something that should have happened on impact). A large mushroom erupted from deep underground, far into the distance, staining the midday sky red with ash.

Ulagan watched the cloud dissipate for a long moment before turning to Alpha and bowing.

In Alpha’s Core-World, Targeting cheered and added another tally to the “Times Alpha used too much Overkill” scoreboard. The other Sub-AIs could only groan and transfer the Fed Credits.

============

As the final crystal shields shattered, Yutu, blood slowly dripping from every orifice, sank to his knees, his eyes rolling back in his head. Of the humans, only two remained upright (barely) and awake, Kallik and Ulagan, both on their knees, ears bleeding, seemingly unable to process such rapid events. Ulagan was the first to move, his Guardian training throwing him into autopilot. He roused Kallik from her stupor with some effort, only vaguely aware he couldn’t hear anything, and with her help, gathered the others.

By some stroke of luck, or whatever the Lord Protector and Yutu had done at the last moment, the blast had killed no one. But neither were they unharmed, either. Everyone had suffered some form of internal damage, and Yutu himself seemed in worse shape than before they’d arrived at the temple. A quick scan showed the poison had been totally purged from his body, yet, while he was totally drained of any Spirit energy, Kallik chose to leave him for last. She didn’t know what the Greater Earth Elemental had done to the boy, but she doubted the entity would let him die so soon after forming a contract.

Ulagan ensured Kallik had everything she needed to care for the others, then carefully made his way to where the temple wall once stood. Once, because the structure that should have been able to withstand the assault from multiple early [Earthly Transcendent] realm Cultivators at once had been reduced to rubble from just the backlash of a single attack.

The mere thought of it sent his hands shaking uncontrollably.

Ulagan was a Guardian; this wasn’t the first time he’d escaped death by the hair of his teeth, far from it. A true Guardian knew death as intimately as they did their spouse or child. Yet, this? This was something different. This wasn’t bravely facing down your death as you stood in the gap in place of another. It was utter and complete helplessness before overwhelming power. It was laying down to die, not because you did not have the will or desire to struggle, but because there was no other choice. Ulagan had never seen such a thing. He could barely process it. Yet, as he stood beside the Lord Protector, wreathed in stony armor to protect himself from the enormous heat, and watched the enormous fireball far in the distance, a similar fire was lit in Ulagan’s heart.

This was what genuine power looked like.

Not that fake, fragile power the greater clans like to swing about, or even the power of the Sects and their various backings. Absolute power left no room for debate or questions, only its wielder’s will. It was the kind of power that could destroy the world with a wave of a hand… or shield it from every harm.

Ulagan knew it was the kind of power he needed. It wasn’t enough to just stand in the gap. If he wanted to be a true Guardian, an unbreakable shield that would never allow those behind him to come to harm, he needed the kind of power that could stand up to even this level of destruction and brush it away. At that moment, something snapped into place in Ulagan’s Spirit. Like a key turning in a lock, his Dantian cracked open, and Spirit energy swirled into him, pushed by something he didn’t have a word for lingering in the area.

Upper [Bronze Spirit] Peak, his Dantian expanded, as if taking in a breath, before shrinking, taking on a bright silver sheen, Lower [Silver Spirit], Lower-Mid, Lower Peak. Just as the pain and pressure became unbearable, Ulagan’s Cultivation settled at Lower-Mid [Silver Spirit]. It was… astounding. Months… years of growth in a single instant of… something he quite couldn’t grasp… yet. Ulagan raised his hands and stared at them, tightening them, feeling the newfound strength within, yet having never felt as exhausted and ready to collapse as he had at that moment.

Instead, Ulagan straightened his back and turned to the Lord Protector. He met the gaze of the red glowing object he assumed was one of the Spirit Beast’s eyes and bowed deeply.

Even if they were to part ways now, this day, this moment, this deep gratitude, would forever be burned deep into Ulagan’s soul. Not just for the gift of life, the Progenitor (for he had no doubt in his heart, now) had given them all, but for the “Concept” he had been shown. One Ulagan had only ever barely touched, even after years as a Guardian.

One that would give rise to a Legend.

============

Yutu lay on the “ground,” surrounded by an endless, empty void. Only a young woman floating above him existed in this place with him. Slowly, the young man stirred, moaning as he pushed himself into a sitting position. Yutu rubbed the side of his head and complained.

“Did anyone see the truck that hit me?”

He froze, his head brow furrowing as he tilted his head. He looked up at the floating woman and asked,

“What’s a truck?”

The woman lazily drifted by and shrugged her shoulders as she answered.

“I don’t know. He never would tell me, no matter how many times I asked. No matter, how are you feeling?”

Yutu shook his head and tried to stand, but fell over. He lay there for a moment, splayed out, before answering.

“Like I’ve been trampled by a herd of Grand Elk… then ran over by the carts they were pulling… then backed over again a dozen more times for good measure.”

The woman nodded sagely, arms crossed.

“Good, good. If you can still feel pain, you’re still alive. Though I had to admit… that was beyond even my expectations.”

She’d taken notice of the strange creature that accompanied their group but hadn’t paid it much mind. After all, her eyes could see far more than theirs could. But for the creature to be capable of something on this level… was this fate? Or were there more hands in this than was immediately apparent? Only time would tell.

There were more pressing matters, though. The woman flipped around and floated over to the young man, meeting his eyes. She stared down at him and spoke, her voice solid as a rock.

“Yutu, you must listen to me. I have little time left. Shielding you and your people in such a manner drained most of the power I had stored in the obelisk. Soon, I will be gone.”

Yutu furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to speak, his chest tight, but the woman cut him off. She seemed fond of doing that.

Her words were harsh, but her smile was bright, with a gentle laugh on her lips.

“Don’t blame yourself, stupid boy. This was always my fate. I’m nothing more than a shadow. A fragment left behind. I was always destined to fade away one day, regardless. This is just the process being… sped up, some.”

Even as she spoke, glittering flakes peeled away from her form.

“But this is not the end, either. I’m leaving you with my memories. Well, some of them, at least. The important ones, and those that will help you later. Find me. Find the real Me. Bring my memories to the Heart of the Radiant Sea. I must know what has happened here today. Far more than you understand depends on it.”

Despite the woman’s assurance, tears still slipped from Yutu’s eyes as he spoke.

“I… I don’t understand. What is any of this? Why me?”

The woman was fading faster now, glowing sand blowing away on some unfelt wind as she spoke.

“Hahaha! Why any of us, boy? Some would say destiny; others would call it fate or chance. But the truth? You were there; you were where someone was needed. The right place at the right time. Sometimes that’s all it takes, and that’s all that matters. What other reason need there be?”

Yutu closed his eyes, contemplating their meaning, before responding.

“I’ll… I’ll go. Not that I think I’m someone special enough to deserve all this. I’m no hero out to save the world. But… But I can do this. I can help you. If for no other reason than to thank you for what you’ve done. To thank you for my life.”

The woman had almost completely faded away by now, but she still smiled down at him, her voice echoing and distant.

“Ha! Don’t make an old woman blush.”

Then, with a more serious tone, she continued.

“Good luck, young Yutu of the Slatewalkers. May those who came before guide your steps. A final warning. Be wary of the metal beast. It is not what it appears at first glance. Even my eyes can not tell its true nature, and it is an unknown wildcard in the grand play about to unfold. It might be the key to saving everything and everyone you ever cared about… or it may be the harbinger of untold destruction that will burn this world to ash. Whatever the result, always be sure of the Path you walk, and may your Truth guide you.”

Yutu nodded, engraving the woman’s words on his heart.

As her form broke apart, Yutu raised a hand and cried out.

“Wait! One last thing! Might… might I know your name?”

The woman’s eyes widened, and she laughed. Then she spoke in a voice that sounded as if it came from miles away.

“I have more names and titles than you could remember, little boy. But you? You, my young friend, may call me… Jīshí.”