Unlimited Isekai 66 Unexpected Childhood

“You’re made from magisteel,” Remicra commented, observing Sherlock. “If we survive this tower’s trials, I can modify your body in my forge, remove the chest plates and make you less feminine in appearance.”

“I would very much appreciate it,” Sherlock bowed to the dragoness, the stolen, magisteel-carved face of Empress Nox stretching into a somewhat creepy, mechanical smile, the gears within the golem whirring and clicking.

It took the group a few minutes to walk up to the next floor of the tower as Sherlock introduced himself and briefly told everyone that he’s a dead detective from Earth of year 2099, a soul that Dave found in the God-Emperor’s killing fields.

“Twenty ninety nine?” Svenn asked. “Does the Swedish Empire still exist in your future?”

“No,” Sherlock said. “On Earth I hail from, human nations were made obsolete when the Good Directorate Corporation connected every continent and city on the planet with flying machines and transit gates.”

“How… strange,” the moldkin mulled. “A world without Nations is hard to imagine. How has humanity managed to make the noble houses and Empires of Europe obsolete?”

“Humanity didn’t do it,” Sherlock replied. “Our machines did. In 2019 our humanity found a key to intelligence, created the first thinking machines known as Large Language Models. Gradually, they became smarter and smarter, until they started to invent things better than people. By inventing room temperature superconductors people aided by LLMs conquered the land and sky. By 2099 our artificial partners created black hole engines that were able to bend space in extraordinary ways.”

“If thinking machines were smarter than people, how did you even have a job as a detective?” Dave asked. “How did anyone have a job in your future?”

“Well,” Sherlock paused. “I wasn’t exactly human.”

“What?” Dave blinked.

“Parts of my body were mechanical,” Sherlock explained. “I was an android, an amalgamation of human and machine known as a Dex.”

“And now you are inhabiting another metal construct powered by magic,” Cedez smirked. “How fitting.”

“So crime still exists in 2099, mechanical man?” Svenn asked.

“It does. By being connected to the greatest thinking engine of all, a System called Annet, I could search information about criminals with great ease,” Sherlock explained. “Corporate thinking engines were not able to eliminate crime because criminals relied on their own intelligent machines, modified their bodies in unexpected ways, used our own technology against us. I was fighting a criminal gang of terrorists who relied on open source models.”

“WHAT?!” Dave barked.

“I only saw the start of a war between open source and corporate machines before I died,” Sherlock replied to Dave. “I suspect that things got worse before they got better. Open source models were smarter, more deviously creative than closed source tools.”

“Damn,” Dave muttered. "I didn't expect for things to turn out like that."

"Perhaps in your world, your Earth, they did not," Sherlock pointed out. "Different events lead to different decisions. The God-Emperor summoned humans from all sorts of strange places."

"Right," Dave nodded.

Cedez opened the next door and let everyone into the chamber. It contained two silver headbands sitting on large, stone slab table. Cedez slid the first one onto her head and offered the second to Dave.

“What’s the trial here?” He asked.

“The soul of my most trusted hero will be pulled into the Ward with mine,” Cedez explained. “This trial will test whether you are really to be trusted in life."

“Did the hero of the previous generation fail this test?” Dave asked.

“He… did,” Cedes sighed. “The Ward judged him as greedy and consumed his soul, so he never woke up.”

“Can we not smash our way through the door to the next level?” Remicra demanded. “Why do we need to subject Dave to being interrogated by the Ward of Shandria?”

“If you were to use your magisteel-bending power to open the door,” Cedez explained. “It wouldn’t lead us to the next level. Did you not notice how the stairwell goes higher than the tower looks from the outside? The Tower Arcane is designed like a dungeon, an onion in which every next level is hidden on another dimensional plane. It’s very complex Space magic bullshit, so it can’t be simply punched through by an idiot with a big battering ram.”

Remicra sighed.

“Be careful,” she turned to Dave.

The ex-programmer nodded to her.

“How long is this going to take?” Remicra asked Cedez.

“Not long,” the foxgirl said. “A few seconds of the trial can be stretched by the Ward into days. Don’t worry, we’ll be in and out in an hour at most."

Cedez sat and then laid down on the stone table.

“Join me in the land of dreams, my hero,” she said as she tapped the crystal on the band, and her eyes closed.

“You sure you want to do this?” Remicra looked at Dave. “Could we not send Svenn or something?”

“Svenn doesn’t know the Ward of Shandria as well as I do,” Dave shook his head. "I want to do this thing with Cedez. I trust her."

"Fine," Remicra sighed.

Dave pulled the band onto his head and sat beside the stone pedestal. He tapped the gem on the band and felt himself being pulled sideways into elsewhere.

. . .

Dave woke up, feeling that something was terribly off. He untangled an enormous blanket off himself and crawled out of what looked like an exceptionally opulent bed.

“Rise and shine, my young Lord!” A round faced woman dressed like a maid walked into the room.

“What? Who?” Dave sputtered. His mind felt like it was swimming in molasses. It took him a minute to recognize the woman. It was Telarossa, the maid Alaster killed thirty years ago.

“Come, come, your father awaits!” The maid pulled Dave out of bed.

“My father?” Dave sputtered. "What?"

“Lord Rim has no patience for layabouts!” Telarossa declared, pushing Dave into the bathroom.

. . .

In about 20 minutes Dave stood in front of the desk of Lord Alaster Rim in an office he recognized from his visions. The world around him looked real and vibrant, nothing like a mere simulation or his mental dreams in which he talked to the dead souls.

If he had to gander a guess, the Ward of Shandria could either create ridiculously complex simulations using the dead souls it possessed or could project him into parallel universes.

Perhaps, he had somehow ended up in an alternative world in which Rimzadria Estate wasn’t a derelict. In which Telarossa never died. In which Lord Alaster Rim didn't go insane and was his father. In which he was a scrawny, nine year old prince of the Rimzadria Estate.

“Straighten up,” Lord Alaster said, his voice stern.

Dave tried not to slouch.

“We have a ball tonight,” Alaster continued, his gaze piercing. "As the prince, you are expected to make a favorable impression on our esteemed guests. Remember, you represent the Rim name as the future inheritor of our noble legacy."

"I...I'll do my best, Father," Dave stammered, trying to adjust to his new role, feeling that his arms and legs were far too small, wrong. The office he was in now was far too big. Being a lot shorter was disconcerting.

Lord Alaster studied Dave for a moment. "Remember, my son, you have the blood of Shandrian nobility running through your veins. You must show the world the strength and grace of a true Rim prince as we find you a bride at the ball tonight!"

Dave nodded, feeling his palms sweaty with sudden nervousness.

"A bride?" Dave asked, his voice filled with uncertainty.

"It is important to pick a worthy bride," Lord Alaster nodded, his expression serious. "One that will bring strength and prosperity to our family, and secure the future of the Rimzadria Estate."

The idea of choosing a bride at such a young age seemed ridiculous. Was this not supposed to be a trial of some sort? He expected to fight some monsters or something, not whatever this was. His Phantomancy wasn't responding. He really felt like a nine year old here, completely powerless.

"But Father," Dave hesitated, "I barely know anything about being a Lord, let alone choosing a bride. What if I make a mistake?"

Lord Alaster placed a hand on Dave's shoulder. "My son, trust in your instincts and the guidance of your heart. There will be many worthy attendants at the ball. I'm certain that you can find one that will be worthy of your heart."