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Chapter 23 - Chapter 23: MATING REQUIRED FOR FORGE ACCESS

Hours passed in cycles of breakdown and recovery. I'd regain some measure of control, start trying to process what had happened, then get hit by another wave of traumatic memory that left me gasping and shaking on the stone floor.

The rage built slowly, starting as a cold knot in my chest and growing into something that felt like molten metal flowing through my veins. Not the hot, immediate anger of someone who'd been wronged, but the deep, calculating fury of someone who'd been broken and was putting themselves back together with sharp edges.

Everyone there, I thought during one of the lucid moments between psychological storms. Virelia, obviously. But Aldric followed orders. Thane let it happen. The guards who stripped me and strapped me down.

They all knew what was going to happen. They all participated.

The gaming mindset emerged gradually, like a survival mechanism my brain was constructing to cope with trauma too massive to process normally. Instead of dwelling on the emotional devastation, I found myself analyzing the situation with the cold objectivity of someone planning their next move in a particularly brutal RPG.

Eleven lives is a blessing, I realized, examining the system notification with new appreciation. But I can't waste them on stupid mistakes or emotional reactions. I need to be smarter. Stronger. I need to understand this world's rules before I try to play by them and finally crush them.

The helplessness was the worst part. Not the pain or the death itself, but the absolute certainty that nothing I could do would matter. That my life, my choices, my very existence was completely subject to the whims of people with power who saw me as nothing more than an interesting specimen.

Never again, I promised myself, the words feeling like an oath written in something more permanent than blood. I'll never be that helpless again.

I forced myself to sit up, fighting through the lingering psychological aftershocks to examine my body. Everything was perfect, too perfect. No scars, no pain, no sign that I'd ever been injured. Even my clothes had been restored, though I noticed they were slightly different, as if the system had reconstructed them from memory rather than returning the originals.

That's when I noticed the bracelet.

It was still around my wrist, but now it was glowing with a soft inner light that pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. The metallic fabric that had seemed so unremarkable before now displayed intricate patterns that shifted and flowed like living things.

[DIVINE ARTIFACT: ACTIVE STATE DETECTED]

[CLASSIFICATION: ᴇʀʀᴏʀ - ɪɴꜱᴜꜰꜰɪᴄɪᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴀᴛᴀ]

[FUNCTION: ᴇᴍᴇʀɢᴇɴᴄʏ ʀᴇᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏᴄᴏʟ]

[ADDITIONAL FUNCTIONS: ████████████████]

So this is what saved me, I thought, running my fingers over the bracelet's surface. The material felt warm and somehow alive, responding to my touch with subtle shifts in pattern and intensity. Thank you, mysterious cosmic artifact. You just bought me a second chance I probably don't deserve.

But gratitude was a luxury I couldn't afford to indulge for long. The memory of Virelia's research tent was still fresh, still perfect in its horrible clarity. She would want to know what had happened to my body. She would investigate, search, possibly even track me down if she figured out I was somehow still alive.

I need to disappear, I realized, standing on legs that felt stronger than they ever had before. Find civilization, but not theirs. Learn about this world without anyone knowing who I am or where I came from.

And while I'm learning, I need to get stronger. Much, much stronger.

The strategic part of my mind, the part that had once optimized builds and planned raid strategies, was already working through the implications. This world had levels, classes, magic systems that followed discoverable rules. If I could understand those rules, master them, I could ensure that what happened in that research tent would never happen again.

Trust no one, I added to my growing list of survival principles. Everyone here is a potential enemy until proven otherwise. Adapt to their culture, learn their weaknesses, build power they can't detect or counter.

The transformation felt strange, like watching someone else take control of my thought processes. The scared, confused programmer who'd been summoned to cosmic trials was still there, but he was being systematically buried beneath layers of calculated pragmatism and carefully controlled rage.

I'll never experience that helplessness again, I promised myself one more time, the words echoing in the vast chamber like a prayer to gods who probably weren't listening.

But when I'm strong enough, when I understand this world's rules well enough to break them...

Virelia is going to learn exactly what it feels like to be someone else's research project.

I turned toward the crypt's exit, then stopped. The morning light filtering through the ancient stonework seemed brighter somehow, full of possibilities that hadn't existed before my death and resurrection, but I was still thinking like a victim instead of a survivor.

I need to be stronger, I realized, clenching my fists. Much stronger. And strength in this world means weapons, magic, power that can't be stripped away by suppression runes.

My enhanced blacksmithing abilities were still there, I could feel them humming beneath the surface like a forge waiting to be lit. All I needed was access to my dimensional inventory, the divine materials I'd collected, the Astral Ender hammer I'd spent a thousand years perfecting.

I reached for the familiar mental interface, expecting to see the comforting display of divine artifacts and cosmic metals that represented my true power in this world.

Instead, I got a slap in the face from reality.

[INVENTORY ACCESS: DENIED]

[ERROR: CRUCIBLE CORE REMAINS INACTIVE]

[ACTIVATION REQUIREMENT: ESSENCE EXTRACTION FROM COMPATIBLE PARTNER]

[PARTNER COMPATIBILITY STATUS: NO SUITABLE SUBJECTS DETECTED][RECOMMENDATION: SEEK MATING ENTANGLEMENT FOR POWER UNLOCKING]

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snarled at the empty air, my voice echoing off the ancient stones with enough venom to make the shadows seem to recoil. "I just died and resurrected, I'm planning revenge against Sadistic-level psychopaths, and your solution is that I need to find a girlfriend?"

The system, in its infinite wisdom, chose not to respond to my perfectly reasonable criticism of its perverted quest design.

Fine, I thought, forcing my rage into something more productive. No divine hammer. No cosmic materials. No dimensional forge. I'll have to work with what's available.

That's when my eyes fell on the scattered remains of the Ruin Guard, and a slow smile spread across my face.

The ancient construct lay in pieces across the obsidian floor, its components still humming with residual magical energy despite being thoroughly destroyed. Enchanted plating that had shrugged off Thane's team's best efforts. Power cores that had driven those spinning death-blades for who knew how many centuries. Weapon systems designed by whoever had built the Original War machines.

That might actually work, I thought, walking toward the largest intact piece, what looked like a section of the construct's central processing unit. I can't access divine materials, but I bet I can work with whatever magical alloys these things are made from.

Eleven lives left, I thought as I knelt beside the wreckage, my mind already cataloging the components and planning modifications. Time to make them count. And time to build something that'll make sure the next person who tries to torture me learns exactly why you don't fuck with a cosmic blacksmith.

Even one who's temporarily locked out of his best tools.

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