Chapter 89: The Subterranean Key

The ruined, ash-covered highway was completely silent, save for the localized, rhythmic hissing of depressurizing hydraulic fluid.

Fifty of the Citadel’s most elite, heavily augmented Vanguard operatives lay completely flattened against the petrified asphalt. The massive, twenty-G gravitational crush had turned their hyper-advanced Old World exoskeletons into multi-ton, inescapable iron maidens. The heavy, localized plasma repeaters they had deployed were twisted into unrecognizable heaps of sparking slag.

Ren walked through the wreckage.

His heavy combat boots made absolutely zero sound. The Domain of the Abyss extending one mile in every direction ensured that the ambient environment completely submitted to his Level 50 architecture. He didn’t disturb the pooling hydraulic fluid. He didn’t kick aside the shattered polycarbonate visors. He simply glided through the graveyard of Old World arrogance with the frictionless, terrifying grace of a natural disaster that had already passed.

Chloe followed exactly ten paces behind him, her boots crunching loudly over the broken glass and twisted metal.

She kept her P90 lowered, but her hands were trembling so violently the polymer sling rattled against her Level III-A plate carrier. She had watched Ren butcher massive, towering monsters. She had watched him tear a localized god out of its cocoon. But this was different.

She stared down at the crushed, heavily armored helmet of a Citadel soldier. Blood was slowly pooling beneath the shattered visor.

“They were human,” Chloe whispered. Her voice was incredibly fragile, completely swallowed by the massive, empty silence of the dead city.

Ren stopped.

He didn’t turn around. His dark, perfect silhouette simply paused in the center of the ruined highway.

“They were biological entities operating on an obsolete, highly aggressive localized directive,” Ren corrected smoothly. His frictionless voice echoed directly into her auditory canals, entirely devoid of empathy or malice. It was a simple, absolute calculation. “They fired fifty localized payloads of superheated plasma at you. Their humanity was mathematically irrelevant the microsecond they pulled the trigger.”

He didn’t wait for her to process the cold, terrestrial logic. He continued walking toward the crushed, smoldering remains of the stealth dropship.

Pinned beneath a massive, completely warped section of the dropship’s radar-absorbent fuselage was Captain Vance.

The commanding officer’s exoskeleton had taken the brunt of the twenty-G impact, but the heavy structural bracing of the ship’s hull had prevented him from being instantly liquefied. He was alive, but his localized biology was catastrophically failing. His visor was shattered, his face covered in blood and grey ash. He was desperately, weakly clawing at the massive steel beam crushing his chest.

Ren stopped perfectly still, looking down at the dying Old World officer.

Captain Vance coughed violently, his eyes rolling up to meet the pitch-black, tungsten-sheened monolith standing over him. He expected to see a monster. He expected to see a hyper-mutated, starving scavenger.

Instead, he looked into Ren’s completely empty, void-like eyes, ringed with a faint, pulsing white light. He saw absolute, flawless perfection.

“What… what are you?” Vance wheezed, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips. The heavy, localized comms array strapped to his back was sparking erratically, emitting a low, dying static.

“I am the complete, successful iteration of the evolution you chose to hide from,” Ren stated.

Ren didn’t raise his foot to crush the man’s skull. He didn’t use the Rending Claws. He simply crouched down, his perfectly smooth, light-absorbing armor adjusting flawlessly without a single mechanical sound.

He reached out with his bare, pitch-black hand and gripped the heavy, sparking Old World comms array bolted to the Captain’s ruined armor.

“The Citadel command structure operates on an absolute, closed-loop subterranean network,” Ren analyzed quietly, ignoring the terrified, gasping human beneath him. “They sent you to the surface because their orbital telemetry went dark. They need a physical, localized ping to re-establish the perimeter.”

Ren didn’t rip the radio off the armor. He completely bypassed the physical hardware.

[Passive Activated: Domain of the Abyss (Data Assimilation)]

The localized singularity in his chest didn’t just consume mana; it consumed information. The pulsing white light ringing his void eyes flared. The sparking, heavily encrypted Old World comms array violently hissed.

Ren actively inhaled the digital encryption keys directly out of the machine’s localized hard drive.

The massive, Level 50 Intelligence stat flawlessly processed the cascading binary code. The Citadel’s heavily guarded Subterranean coordinates, their rotating security frequencies, and the exact architectural layout of the massive blast doors completely unspooled into his hyper-mutated vascular system.

“You can’t… the doors…” Vance gasped, his human biology finally giving out. “They’re rated for… nuclear…”

“Your metrics are entirely terrestrial,” Ren stated smoothly as the Captain’s eyes rolled back and his biological functions permanently ceased.

Ren stood up.

He turned his completely solid, frictionless gaze toward the western horizon, exactly ten miles away from the crashed dropship.

“The Citadel is not a bunker. It is a massive, heavily fortified subterranean city,” Ren projected, his voice carrying back to Chloe. “It spans exactly twelve miles across the bedrock. The primary access point is disguised beneath the ruins of the Old World international airport.”

Chloe swallowed hard, ripping her eyes away from the dead soldiers. “If you just downloaded their codes… does that mean we can just open the front door?”

“The codes do not open the door,” Ren replied, his heavy combat boots taking the first flawless step toward the western ruins. “The codes simply tell me where to knock.”

The ten-mile march to the airport was completely unopposed.

The Category-Five storm had sterilized this sector of the continent so thoroughly that not even the lowest-level scavengers dared to enter the perimeter. They walked through massive, petrified suburbs and ruined industrial parks, the entire landscape heavily dusted with the grey, lifeless ash of the incinerated synthetic jungle.

Exactly twenty minutes later, the massive, sprawling ruins of the international airport came into view.

The Old World terminals had been completely flattened by the localized geological upheavals of the System’s arrival. The massive, multi-lane tarmac was a heavily cratered, jagged expanse of cracked concrete and petrified obsidian.

But exactly in the center of the ruined runway was a colossal, perfectly smooth anomaly.

It was a massive, circular blast door, easily three hundred feet in diameter, forged entirely from hyper-dense, radar-absorbent Old World titanium. It sat perfectly flush with the shattered concrete, entirely devoid of any visible seams, keypads, or access panels.

It was the ultimate, impenetrable lid to the Citadel.

“The primary threshold,” Ren stated, walking directly onto the massive, three-hundred-foot titanium seal.

Chloe stood at the edge of the runway, her boots hesitating against the cracked concrete. “Vance said it was rated for a nuclear strike. Even with your strength… that’s three hundred feet of solid metal.”

“Kinetic force is inefficient against localized architectural geometry of this scale,” Ren agreed, his pitch-black silhouette standing exactly dead center on the colossal Old World door.

He didn’t draw back his fist. He didn’t drop his center of gravity to deliver a multi-ton physical blow.

Ren simply placed his heavy, reinforced combat boot flat against the center of the titanium seal.

[Active Skill Unleashed: Absolute Depressurization]

Ren completely inverted the localized physics of the Domain of the Abyss.

He didn’t push down. He actively commanded the atmospheric pressure in a massive, three-hundred-foot vertical column directly above the door to violently, instantly cease existing. He created a complete, localized vacuum extending from the titanium surface all the way to the upper stratosphere.

The physical reaction was catastrophic.

With zero atmospheric weight pushing down on the top of the door, and the massive, pressurized, climate-controlled subterranean atmosphere of the Citadel pushing up from below, the hyper-dense titanium seal violently buckled.

The three-hundred-foot, multi-ton Old World door shrieked in absolute, molecular agony.

The massive, subterranean locking mechanisms, designed to withstand the downward force of an apocalyptic meteor strike, were completely useless against an upward vacuum. The incredibly thick titanium violently bowed outward, bulging like a massive metallic balloon.

CRACK.

The deafening, explosive sound of the massive, localized steel deadbolts violently snapping echoed across the entire ruined airport.

The massive, three-hundred-foot titanium lid completely failed. It violently tore free from its heavily reinforced concrete housing and was instantly, catastrophically sucked upward into the localized vacuum column, launching hundreds of feet into the air like a discarded bottle cap.

A massive, overwhelming rush of stale, heavily filtered subterranean air violently erupted from the open breach, roaring into the crisp morning sky.

The three-hundred-foot Old World door crashed heavily onto the ruined tarmac exactly a quarter-mile away, the kinetic impact physically shaking the bedrock.

Ren stood perfectly still, hovering exactly one inch over the massive, yawning abyss of the open Citadel shaft, utilizing his flawless, frictionless Level 50 architecture to completely negate gravity.

He looked down into the dark, massive vertical tunnel leading directly into the heart of humanity’s last heavily armed sanctuary.

“The door is open,” the Terrestrial Void stated, his smooth, frictionless voice echoing down into the dark. “Let us descend.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep