Voidborn - A Sci-fi LitRPG

The vivid flowing of light around the inside of the sphere exploded in intensity at the sound of Tanwen’s question. The floor and walls shook with a force that nearly took Malan off his feet, and he had to grip the pillars on either side of him to keep his already weak legs beneath him.

Malan barely had time to mumble out a surprised grunt as he fought to stay upright, before another sleek panel faded into view in the top right of his vision.

Starbound Modifications Applying

Mod Type: Bonding [1]

Mod Name: Tanwen, Phoenix Spirit

The shaking heightened, and around him the walls began to shift. Like the pyramid had done, they rolled aside small piece by small piece like the pieces of a puzzle. Shards of metal danced and rearranged themselves around him, some forming new walls, others twisting and changing from metal to altogether new materials, forming computer panels and chairs.

A bridge blossomed around him like an opening flower, the shifting of matter stopping first at the very front tip of the ship and stilling further back as its final form was reached. The bridge itself was a fairly simple hexagonal affair, clearly intended for a single pilot. A trio of large, curved panels formed a vast viewing area, before which a raft of sleek silver monitors surrounded a black leather pilot’s chair.

Malan himself still stood upon a raised dais in the centre of the room just behind that chair, in between the two control pillars he’d been accessing earlier. Strangely, he found he grew aware of the intended function of each object he saw without having to investigate or even particularly think about it.

The front set of monitors and chair were for more hands off control. He could set courses, access the ship’s main functions and perform just about any task the captain of the Starbound needed. The control pillars, however, were for when he needed to take closer control of the craft.

Things like dogfighting his way off of a moon crawling with creatures from an Abyssal Rift, for example.

Warning: Shields at 65%.

Malan swore softly to himself and glanced at the viewing panels, but they were tinted so deeply black he could not see the Abyss outside through them. However, as his ships transformation rumbled on through the back of his ship, he could hear the furious clawing and scratching and pounding of the enemy once more. Now though, they were punctuated by a small pulse of energy as flesh and claw met the energy field of Tanwen’s shields.

Warning: Shields at 62%.

“What the hell are they doing that’s bringing our shields down so much?” he hissed to himself, only to flinch in surprise when Tanwen answered.

“They are pressing against our shields in groups, trying to overload our relatively limited capabilities. The larger Abomination has thus far refrained from adding its strength to that end. When it does, our shields will not last long.”

“Is there any way to accelerate the bonding process?”

“No, though the first stage is almost—”

Starbound Modifications Application Complete

Mod Type: Bonding [1]

Mod Name: Tanwen, Phoenix Spirit

***Warning***

Forming Pilot Link

Do not interrupt

Do not attempt to leave.

***Warning***

“Well, that’s ominous,” Malan muttered.

“Remain still, Malan. This process might induce some discomfort.”

“What do you—”

Malan’s sucked in a breath as a pulse of white hot energy seared through his arms from the control pillars his palms still rested upon. He tried to wrench them back from it, bubbling, boiling pain travelling up his arms as he struggled, only to realise he couldn’t. He cried out, the burning reaching his chest and coalescing at his very core. It remained there, a swirling vortex of burning and pain, until slowly, the sensation faded, and was replaced with something else entirely.

The presence he’d first felt when he touched the control rods joined with his own consciousness. For a moment, he feared its presence would somehow change him as it melded with his own, but instead, it settled on a peculiar oneness. They were one being, but two individuals.

His awareness grew, and he realised he could feel the entire craft. The low hum of idling engines, the gradual wicking away of the shields, even the barren space inside the modest cargo bay. Malan couldn’t simply see the information, he could feel it, in much the same way you could feel you were tired, hungry or in pain.

Pilot Link Complete

Warning: Shields at 42%

It was interesting to have a number to attach to the feeling, even if that number was going down at an alarming rate. He tried to dull his awareness of the sensation of the thrumming engines, and the violent pulsing of the shields as the creatures outside threw themselves against it. Malan felt all these things as though they were happening to him and not his ship, and almost by instinct he knew that if he willed it, he could control this vessel much as he could his own arms and legs.

Warning: Shields at 37%

He took a steadying breath. There was only so much he could focus on at once. Only so much he could adjust to, and he was on a rapidly ticking clock.

Warning: Shields at 34%

Focus. Compartmentalise. He could only afford to think about the most pressing issues. The Abyss all around them. Taking off. Getting away. Working our everything else could come after.

Warning: Shields at 31%

Another breath. How to take off? Hell, how to see what was going on outside?

“You could start by opening your eyes, Pilot.”

Malan started at Tanwen’s voice surging through his mind, momentarily forgetting the other presence within him had its own voice. Then, the words themselves registered, and a hot flush of embarrassment ran through him as he realised he’d clenched his eyes closed in response to the pain of bonding, and had been so focused on how the process felt, they’d been squeezed tightly shut since.

He opened them, slowly at first, then sucked in a breath at what he saw. The bridge, the almost jet-black viewing glass was simply gone. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he simply saw. It wasn’t quite as though he was the ship, but it was some facsimile of that. Once again an ocean of pale rock stretched out before him, the Abyss scattered across it like debris after a shipwreck. Once again, he was confronted with the sheer horror of the creatures—slathering monsters each, pressing in against his flickering blue shields, gnashing tooth and claw to break through and reach the hull.

To his delight, he was also somehow aware of the entire periphery of the ship, just as he would be with the raft of monitor’s in a regular craft’s bridge. His eyes were drawn towards the sky, and the writhing monster that had so very nearly killed him. It hung suspended in the air as though on strings, a seething mass of tentacle and flesh. Malan could see no engine or thruster, biological or otherwise. What he could see, however, were the bloodied stumps where Beric’s pulse rifle fire had severed its hold on him.

He blinked. Another flickering display notice materialising beside the creature.

Abyssal Fiend [Lv. 15]

Further Information Unavailable [Skill Required]

Malan almost grinned as the name and level of the creature sunk in. He assumed the level was an approximation of strength, and though it was much higher than his own, the implication that he could grow strong enough to bring this thing down was surprisingly comforting.

The next logical assumption was that he would eventually be able to categorise these creatures. Gather information on them. Learn their weaknesses. The scientist in him could have danced a jig. He knew from experience that the more you knew about a thing, the less sway fear of it held on you. Even just knowing its name had done some amount of work in that regard. It was no longer an unknowable monstrosity, almost supernatural in being.

Something like that might just be impossible to kill.

No, these things were just animals. Horrifying, and malevolent, sure. But animals. And animals could be hunted. He couldn’t help but slide his eyes back to the creatures pounding at his shields, and watch as dozens of small notifications slid across his screen, all reading slight variations on a similar theme.

Abyssal Crawler [Lv. 3]

Further Information Unavailable [Skill Required]

Some read as a little under, some over, but level three definitely seemed to be the average. The bug like creatures that had swarmed together to restrain him all read as level one, and the notifications referred to them as Abyssal Feythids, whereas the winged creatures that had assaulted the Sparrow were Abyssal Viphics, and generally appeared to be higher in level.

Warning: Shields below 25%. Danger. Take Evasive Action Imminently.

Warning: Shields at 23%

“Fuck,” Malan muttered, too caught up in this latest wave of discovery. “Tanwen, how do we take off?”

“How does one breathe? We are one, Pilot. There is no need for thought or action. It will come as naturally as walking.”

Malan fought the urge to direct some of the more colourful curses he knew in the direction of his new ally. There was a part of him that understood what Tanwen meant. He could feel the low rumble of the engines like his own pulse. The Starbound being an extension of his own body now was not simply a metaphor. They were one. But as his mind raced, urging himself to lift off of the ground, or trying to divert power to his thrusters—anything that would help him take off—he couldn’t help but think about the fact that humans took months upon months to learn to walk upright.

Warning: Shields at 19%

Shit. Even as he tried everything he could to force the ship to do something, Malan could not help but notice the way the Fiend had recovered its bearings, and was slowly descending back towards the planet. Towards him. Shit. Shitshitshit. Shit! Blind panic took over, as he fought to will any of the ship’s systems to start the take-off process and get them airborne.

Nothing worked. They sat, and Malan watched the Fiend descend, the phantom pain of their last encounter running through him.

Warning: Shields at 15%

Suddenly, knowing the creature’s level was no comfort whatsoever. How long would it take something at level fifteen to destroy his level one shields? Malan saw it happening in his mind, fleshy tentacles piercing the ship’s hull like paper.

“Stop panicking, pilot,” Tanwen’s voice cut through the panic like a spear. “When you walk, do you need to tell your arms to move? Inform each muscle tendon of when to contract and expand? Just act. We are one, my systems will respond.”

Maybe, with time, Malan could have found some value in that. Now though, watching the fleshy tendrils reach out for him as the Fiend reached the moon’s surface once more, it meant less than nothing.

Foals are born standing, already knowing how to run so that they might have a chance at avoiding lurking predators. In the end, it was no logic or cunning that saved his life, but that same instinct. The Fiend lunged for him, its grasping limbs looking to wrap themselves around his ship—around him—like a Kraken from Earth’s ancient legends.

Malan watched them surround him, ready to splinter the ship and drag him to his death, and did the only thing he could do. He jumped.

Tanwen’s engines blazed to life, the low rumble escalating to a lion’s roar as he surged skyward. Malan’s stomach lurched at the initial burst of speed, before an unwilling burble of laughter escaped his lips that grew into a full-blown laugh at the rush of it. That was all it took. One moment of simply acting. Removing all thought and logic and doing, and he was off, instinct fully in the driver’s seat.

He rocketed through the moon’s sky, twisting and turning, finding immense joy in the pure freedom of it. Then, another feeling took him. Rage. The dead faces from the Miotov flickered through his mind, his father and mother, all of his friends. His sister, traumatised and hospital bound. All of it burned through him, and he arced around and bringing the raging mass of creatures back into his path.

This time, he needed no guidance. No discovery. Tanwen’s weapons systems surged with power and let loose at his whim. Orbs of pale blue rifled free from beneath each of his wings in a slow and steady rhythm, and crashed into the hordes, and Malan grinned madly as the energy tore the creatures in their path to shreds.

Abyssal Crawler [Lv. 3] Killed

Celestial Energy Harvested

***

Abyssal Crawler [Lv. 2] Killed

Celestial Energy Harvested

***

Abyssal Feythid [Lv. 1] Killed

Celestial Energy Harvested

Grim satisfaction grew as more and more notifications piled up to match the bodies, before he took a closer look at the text itself. Malan barely had time to quirk an eyebrow at the Celestial Energy Harvested portion of the notifications, when another faded in at the top of his screen.

Alert: Pilot Level Increased

Stat Point Available