The infinity dungeon 246

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

Chapter 246

In the gigantic cave under the ice of the mountain where Michael and Master Yu had played their strange game, in the sixth floor of the dungeon, was an altar. Qi swirled around it, an impassable storm of energy.

Around the altar, four pillars made of solid gold stretched from the top to the bottom of the cave. Three of them were dim, their gold surface covered by an opaque layer of frost. The one closest to Michael was different, however. The metal shone as if it had been polished by expert hands, reflecting in sheens of gold the icy blues of the cave’s wall.

“The First Embrace,” Michael said as he approached it. There was a reverence to his words, almost as if the cave was a cathedral of sacred knowledge. Perhaps it was.

The characters carved into the pillar were dim, unreadable. Michael had expected as much–they had been the same last time he had come to see the pillars. One of them was different. It was the first, at the very top, almost too far away to see. As he squinted, Michael tried to recall Master Yu’s lessons. At the time, he had been trying to reclaim his lost power, and had been eager to learn everything that the master had to offer.

However, as he left the floor with his power restored, he had put aside those teachings. He had focused on the problems of the present, on himself and on the many worries that afflicted his mind. Rightfully so, perhaps, but now that he was back in the cave he felt shame at himself.

Something about the cave had taken Michael away from the narrow mindset of day to day life and had expanded his horizons, like an echo of Master Yu’s voice.

It also brought the realization that he had not cultivated the Dao at all, and yet he had come here with arrogance, expecting the Dao to just give in to his wishes.

Despite all this, despite his unworthiness, the first character etched into the pillar was clearly brighter than the others. Focusing on it, the strange shapes unraveled and changed, sense and meaning springing up from their depths. 

Michael nodded. 

Of course, the First Embrace has always been about opening the game with a white stone.

To begin with trust instead of mistrust. After restoring his power, a new game had begun, and Michael had opened it with some measure of trust in his friends. Not a lot of trust, and indeed only one character in the whole pillar was filled with light among the many that were there. But it was a beginning.

He would have to learn to trust more. The consequences of this opening move, of this trust extended to people, both deserving and undeserving, would be left to the second pillar and were not matters of today. The Rebuke would come, or it would not, and that was left to the second pillar.

This first one was about the beginning of the game, the first move, the foundations of trust between two people.

He had not been very trusting as of late, he realized.

Master Yu had said that the game was the Dao of Interwoven Fates, and that if Michael managed to win, then the Dao would become his. He had thought, back then, that the stones and the board were the game. He had won, in the end when the master allowed him to win, and he had beaten the dungeon floor.

And yet, the Dao had not been among the rewards. He had been given some golden coins of Qi, and off on his merry way he went.

Because the game had never been about the stones and the board, has it?

The game was the Dao and the Dao was the game.

The game never ends. My life is the game. And if I want this Dao, I have to live by its axioms, starting from this first one.

He drew a deep, heavy breath. Did he even want to live by axioms laid out by someone else?

He looked at the altar. The power this Dao promised was great, and yet… 

He looked at the four pillars again, trying to remember the master’s words.

He never really approached the altar at the center of the room…

If the pillars were the axioms, what was the altar?

Let’s see. The first pillar is the First Embrace. Then comes the Swift Rebuke, the Open Hand and… what was the last?

“The Clear Mirror,” Icarus said. “The last axiom of the Dao of Interwoven Fates.”

Michael hummed. “No, it doesn’t sound right…”

“This is what he said. What do you mean it doesn’t sound right?” Icarus asked.

Michael paced around the room. Only the entrance and a small area around the first pillar were accessible to him, everywhere else the Qi was too strong to survive. Even just staring at the second pillar, Michael struggled to breathe.

“Those…” Michael said, his voice so low as to almost be imperceptible–yet, it echoed in the enormous room, above the rush of wind and energies. “...were just the rules of a game, Icarus.”

His face brightened with understanding. “The games of the Hungry Ghost! Remember what he said about the two spirits? What were they called?”

“The Dao Zhi Ying and the enlightened cousin, the Kuan Hong Zhi Ying,” Icarus recited, his infallible memory an indestructible vault.

“Yes!” shouted Michael. “The pillars are the rules to the games of the Hungry Ghosts, but they are not a Dao. What did the master say about them? About the Games? His exact words, please.”

“They are games where one’s triumph is another’s bitter loss.” Icarus said, reciting the master’s words verbatim, but without understanding them. “They teach a lesson, but it is often the wrong lesson. It is not a complete Dao. Their constrained rules force you on a narrow path, while most of life is like vast fertile lands.”

Michael smiled, warm breath condensing into frosty clouds in front of his face. “The pillars teach you the game, but not the Dao. They are a pre-requisite. They teach you how to play like Dao Zhi Ying, the spirit who follows the rules and wins all the games, yet does not know how to live in the real world. Then, once you are there, you can take the last step to become Kuan Hong Zhi Ying.”

“What is this last step, Michael?"

“Grace. Mercy. Forgiveness.”

“How does this help us?” Icarus asked.

“It tells us what we need to do. Live by the rules, one pillar at a time, and then learn how to transcend them: reach the altar. The path of Qi will be a long one, I fear.”

Turning away from the room, Michael returned to the Valley. As soon as he did, Icarus connected to the wider network and sounded the alarm. Adrenaline flooded his body, and Michael rushed to the surface but when he arrived there, the Renegade was gone once again. 

I tire of this game of cat and mouse…

He walked toward the lab, thoughts swirling in his head, wanting to update Johanne on the latest developments. As the excitement of understanding waned, now that he was outside the room and away from its pillars, he was left rather frustrated with Qi, especially because other people didn’t seem to have the same struggles as he did. He knew that his path was going to take him much farther than most others–probably–but he had wanted Qi and he had wanted it now.

Heck, he needed it now. With it, he could at least have a fighting chance against the Renegade.

In fact, even though it’s very frustrating, it’s a good thing that the Renegade is escaping moments before I arrive. What if I were fast enough to catch him in the act next time… what am I going to do then? I can’t even flare the spiral to scare him away with the boundary on the verge of breaking.

Without easy access to Qi, he was forced to rethink his approach to the multilayered shield as well. It was a race against time, with the boundary crumbling away at a faster and faster pace. He could feel the void breathing down his neck, the chaotic soup of particles threatening to dissolve his very being, with the spiral gladly drinking from it like a maddened drunk, uncaring of the destruction that it would bring.

“Icarus,” he told his AI as he walked. “I have two projects for you, maximum priority.”

Icarus listened. The first was called FLAGSHIP and was a spaceship equipped with a smaller version of the shield projector ring. With it, the ship could navigate around the inner space and deal with any threats. Perhaps it could even venture outside…

“You can handle the build, can you?”

“Yes,” Icarus said. “Now that you have shown me the technology, I can easily replicate it, perhaps even improve upon the current iteration of the design.”

“That’s perfect.”

The second project was an upgrade to the batteries, following the same principle as the dungeon-given upgrade to the collectors.

“It’s no use,” Icarus complained. “I have been trying to reverse engineer that upgrade and apply the same design to the batteries ever since you built the first collector mark-2 array. I can’t seem to wrap my head around it!”

“Hey, I’ve also been bashing my head against it for a long time. This magic system is not easy, and you know it.”

Icarus wasn’t satisfied with the answer, working himself up in a frenzy. “What I don’t understand is why I keep failing! I have trillions more times more computational power than you, no offense.”

“None taken. Well, a little bit.”

Icarus chuckled. “Suck it up. Anyway, why can you reach that damned enlightened state or whatever, and make stuff happen, while I can’t?”

“I don’t know,” Michael said. “I know it’s frustrating, but you’re still an invaluable helper, and friend. Don’t beat yourself up for this.”

“It used to be so easy at first,” Icarus said after a pause. “Throwing designs around, iterating stuff until it worked. Now, I can only iterate upon what you’ve already built. I understand it, but only afterward. I can’t make the leap, and I hate it.”

“One day,” Michael promised. “You will be able to. I just know it.”

“I believe you,” Icarus said. “Thank you, Michael. Perhaps I suffer from the same troubles as Johanne: my mind is too scientific and rational. Even worse, being a machine mind as I am–made of magic yet cursed not to understand it. I will focus on the sciency stuff for now, iteration and improvement, while you do the intuitive magic.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“I’m not giving up, though. I just need to find the right way to approach the problem.”

“Perhaps you could start from the planetoid with the runes which should be where your consciousness resides, if I recall correctly? You have been carefully avoiding having anything to do with it, why is that?”

“I don’t know.” He paused. “I don’t understand it, that’s why. I feel like I don't understand my own mind.”

Michael barked a laugh. “Well, welcome to real life. Do you think I understand my own mind? Nobody does, and anyone who says they do is lying. Perhaps Master Yu does, but I doubt it. You might have been born software, but now you are no longer just that.”

“Alright, I see what you mean. Nothing’s ever easy, is it? Well, except for taking over the world. You just need to say the word and I’ll do it for you.”

“What about the billions of casualties you predicted a while ago?”

“I can minimize them.”

“Icarus. I know you don’t feel useful. But that’s all in your head. You are useful. You matter. You count. I don’t see a future where you are not by my side. You hear me? Focus on yourself, focus on the very important project FLAGSHIP I gave you, and don’t feel bad because you can’t also do everything else.”

“I will. Thank you, Michael."