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A Journey Unwanted

A world filled with magic, God's, Goddesses and more. A fantasy world if you will, most would relish and prosper in a world such as this. Who would not want to live out their fantasies? Not Mikoto Yukio, a young boy with a simple life. A simple life he was content with as long as he had his family. But the world is an unfair place and he finds himself in this new absurd world with something special. Now he must search for a means to get back home and to the few people he held dear. How shall this unwanted journey unfold. Can he remain himself in such an unfamiliar place?

PocketCat2 · Fantasía
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174 Chs

Chapter 164: A savior

The open streets of the capital of Vel'ryr were as ever bustling with people. More so with their technological showings, billboards, transportation called automobiles, and advanced and strong-looking skyscrapers.

Isabella could not help but take in the sights despite the current situation. It took everything not to gawk at what she was seeing; she would have liked to sightsee, but currently that was impossible. Beside her stood Dante, his snow-white visage covered by a long black hooded cloak. He refused to take off his armor, so this was the alternative.

Whether it made him stand out more, she did not know; they got various gazes. Whether it was the lecherous gazes or confused gazes, they were looked at a lot, they were an odd duo. They were nestled between two small buildings, one a simple, expensive restaurant with a bright exterior and the other a clothing store that seemed expressive in its bright logos decorating it. She would have loved to visit it someday; that was for another day.

"Where are all these labs located?" She asked in a whisper as if there were a chance someone could be listening in.

"The east district possesses a number of five labs, the west district four, and the northern district three." He answered smoothly, yet Isabella's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Districts?" She questioned.

"The capital, much like the other cities of Vel'ryr, is broken into separate districts. The northern, eastern, western, and southern districts. Each specializes in accommodating something specific; some information I gathered in the labs was that primarily the northern districts housed all the labs. It seems they wanted to keep their inhumane experimentation under wraps; hence they split up the labs focusing on it."

"That...sounds complicated," she admitted, "But won't the labs individually be difficult to track down?"

"It should not be a problem; their siphoning of mana would make them all but a beacon." He answered, "Once you are in each district, it would be a small task for you to locate them as you located me."

Isabella could not help but flush at the compliment, "Y-you really think so?"

"Indeed." 

"Right! I will not let you down." She declared, and he merely nodded at her enthusiasm. "But I wonder what's taking Lyraeth so long." Isabella pondered, "I contacted her via telepathy magic some time ago. I hope—"

"Yo, there you are!" As if on cue, a loud voice rang out, causing Isabella to slightly jump in fright.

"Eeep!" And to let out a squeak, causing the recipient of her fright to chuckle as they approached.

"I scared you good, huh?" Lyraeth asked, a big grin on her face.

"I—I was not scared!" Isabella defended in embarrassment.

Lyraeth merely threw an arm around her fellow Inheritor, "No shame, Bella! I'm pretty strong, so maybe that's why you caught a fright." She suggested, the now nicknamed 'Bella,' merely grumbled at that. Quickly the spawn of the sun Goddess directed her gleaming golden eyes towards the figure of Dante, "Dante! If you were gonna kick Vel'ryr's ass, you could've invited me, ya know!" She pouted slightly as she retracted her arm from Isabella.

"My exploration of Vel'ryr was more than a mere culling." Dante stated as Isabella's face lit up, having remembered something.

"Earlier you mentioned that something worse than war was on the horizon because of Vel'ryr; what did you mean?" Isabella questioned.

"Hmph, it would be much better to discuss this with more ears. For now we have a clear mission." He diverted the topic.

"Ah right, Isabella mentioned over the telepathic link that Vel'ryr's been conducting some shitty experiments," she frowned deeply at that. "Tch! Vel'ryr scumbags! I knew they were trouble!" Of course her small outburst caught a few eyes.

"Uhm, maybe we should not yell that out when in a Vel'ryr city?" Isabella sheepishly suggested.

"Oh right. My bad."

"At any rate, we'll split up to cover more ground. The two of you will focus on the east district for now; I shall focus on the northern and western districts." Dante declared.

"Hold on, how are you tracking down all of those labs?" Isabella questioned somewhat worried that he was taking this much of the burden.

"Simple," Dante began; he reached a hand toward the dark cloak and merely ripped it off. His snow-white armor adorned in black and his cape once more visible, "By searching every inch of those districts. Once all the captives have been rescued, transport them outside of the capital city. We shall all reconvene there."

Isabella opened her mouth to protest, but it was much too late; Dante's body all but vanished from his spot. Most would think teleportation was at work, but it was just his absurd physical prowess. "Going in alone would be dangerous for Dante as well, no?" She worriedly thought.

"Eh, he'll be fine." Lyraeth merely waved off. "Dante's stupid strong! Like REALLY strong. Man, I'd wish he'd duel me sometime, but he never has the time." She shrugged, trying to comfort Isabella.

The girl frowned in contemplation. "I see... then at most let us not disappoint Dante. We'll save them all!" She announced with vigor.

"Hell yeah!" Lyraeth exclaimed in excitement, "Time to kick Vel'ryr ass!"

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[Vel'ryr Capital City: Northern District-Research and Development District]

The Advanced Research District stood like a beacon, a network of advanced architecture dedicated to the fusion of mana siphoned and technology—referred to commonly as Magictec. The Qualidade Tower stood out especially, a 60-story colossus made of reflective meta-glass, its vertical gardens gushing around the exterior with bioluminescent vines that glowed. Surrounding the tower, a constellation of structures collectively forms the district of Scientific Advancements: the cylindrical arc of the Quantum Dynamics Institute; its angular glows with a detailed network, casting a holographic display of equations into the morning air, seemingly reminding passersby. Nearby, the spire of the Armoury Development Lab shot through the clouds, decorated with a few orbs that collect ambient mana from leylines. 

Commuter magitech transportation moved through the district, transporting scientists and engineers—clad in form-fitting, tech-integrated uniforms—between the various facilities, each station designed with a blend of foreign alloy and metal. The Central Research Plaza serves as a popular hub, with a lot of pathways guiding foot traffic past the Academia for Advanced Magitech Studie. Scattered around the hub were sculptures representing the former principles and whatnot.

Emerging from a workforce of buzzing drones, a holographic public display showcases the latest Magictech weaponry; floating holograms demonstrate the Tesseract Blades capable of slicing through the toughest barriers and new magitech called Titan. Lively discussions occur outdoors, where inventors pitch their ideas to investors seated beneath areas showered in artificial light. 

At a distance, the Regulatory Commission for Magical Inventions can be seen, a fortress-like building with security wards glowing; its architects seemingly left nothing to chance, ensuring that each research breakthrough adheres to ethical guidelines. Farther down, the Research and Development Collaboration Chamber thrived; its glass walls served as a picture for multimedia presentations showing new discoveries. 

Perched atop the towering Outpost Citadel, like a guardian surveying the sprawling Research District below, Dante materialized almost as if he were conjured from nothing. In a blinding burst of speed, he appeared against the background of the skyline.

Despite his mission, he could not help but be impressed by the grandeur of but a single district, "How cruel we are," he mused internally. The sheer magnitude of the pain inflicted on those who had lost their freedom to the experiments gnawed at him. "To play God while forsaking the sanctity of their life reveals the of our hidden nature—yet look around, and you will see communities thriving on innovation, passion, and unity, working relentlessly to manifest their dreams." In essence, Rhiannon had the right of it; the era was filled to the brim with despair and violence.

"I wonder if they even comprehend the value of a life, or if they have numbed themselves to the pangs of their conscience," he pondered.

Dante set forth with those last words—Dante poised at the edge of the Outpost Citadel; in one swift motion, he leapt from the rooftop—the world around him slowed as time itself seemed to as well. His body blurred midair, a blur of white and black, momentarily suspended before gravity took him, drawing him downward like an arrow released from a bow.

With a thunderous hush, Dante landed on the asphalt with a near-silent burst, his form absorbing the kinetic energy. The impact reverberated through his body, but he was not hindered as he transitioned into a run. With each stride, he carved through the cityscape, his senses heightened to perceive the details surrounding him.

Dante dashed past streamlined vehicles, their occupants blissfully unaware of the figure that swept through the streets. Shopkeepers and pedestrians alike remained oblivious, caught up in their routines and livelihoods; their conversations were just whispers overshadowed by the absurdness of his speed. He streaked through open-air markets where stalls overflowed with wares.

Eyes sharp, Dante absorbed the vivid details of everything. Ears attuned to the faintest of sounds, he detected the soft whir of drones overhead, capturing footage of a lively gathering, unaware of him as he slipped past an argument brewing outside a quaint café. Within moments, he had crossed through a labyrinth of structures.

As he journeyed through, sounds began to condense into distinct dialogues, finally breaking through the background hum. He slowed his pace, darting behind a towering stack of crates in a dimly lit alley, where the air was tainted with the scent of mulch and metallic undertones. 

Two scientists clad in red-trimmed uniforms—presumably emblematic of the research institution they belonged to—stood engaged in quiet conversation.

"Did you hear the results from yesterday's procedures?" one murmured, their voice enthusiastic yet apprehension. "The extraction from Subject Delta was unprecedented. We're finally close to perfecting our mana amplification."

The other scientist nodded, glancing around as if fearing eavesdroppers, "I know, but the implications… We're playing with fire. There are ethical lines we're crossing. You saw the distress the subjects were in; their vital signs showed extreme fluctuations. It's inhumane, Richard!"

The now-named Richard shifted uncomfortably, shedding the urgency in his tone. "Look, I get it, but think of the potential! With finite mana resources dwindling, if we can harness this method to extract more mana, we could change everything—enhancements for our soldiers, powering our cities indefinitely!"

"Or you could end up with a mass of broken lives," the second scientist interjected sharply, a frown marring their brow. "Listen, I overheard the director talking about moving the next batch to Lab Alpha near the weapons research facility. It's deeper in the complex, away from prying eyes. That's where they'll conduct the final trials. We have to consider pulling out before it becomes irreversible."

"Let's just hope we're not too late," Richard sighed, glancing at a chronometer embedded in his wrist. "If we want to intervene, we need to be quick about it. The next subject could be brought in any moment now."

They were talking about lives—lives torn apart by simple ambition; the stakes were certainly high. Pressing his back against the cool stone of the wall, he prepared to make his next move, weighing his options carefully as he listened intently to their conversations.

As the whispers from the alley faded, Dante moved forward; in an instant, his body blurred into a streak of black and white towards the lab as he catered his senses to the patrolling guards.

Arriving at the station in an instance, Dante laid eyes upon the edifice standing over the complex. It was constructed from darkened steel alloy interlaid with shimmering panels of thick glass that seemed to pulse with a dim glow. Towering spires jutted into the sky, decorated with flickering designs. The entrance had an imposing steel door emblazoned with the emblem of the facility—a stylized eye.

The station was flanked by several guards clad in sleek, form-fitting, advanced black armor that seemed to meld like liquid across their bodies. Each soldier wielded advanced rifles, their designs sleek and angular, imbued with glowing lines. Nearby, towering mechanical monstrosities, the magitech mechs—glistening metallic colossi equipped with serrated limbs and glowing ocular sensors, catching even the shadows. They seemed almost organic, their movements guided by the intelligence of their artificial minds, calibrating autonomously, and scanning the perimeter.

Dante was acutely aware that even the slightest misstep could trigger a series of alarms. He focused on the myriad of technologies that served to threaten his entry, his eyes darting over sensors, defensive shields, and surveillance drones that circled above. ("It would be wise to first locate the captives before culling them all.") He deduced they might move them if the alarms were immediately tripped.

With a sudden leap, Dante surged forth, surpassing the confines of his reality in a burst of speed almost made to defy comprehension. He passed through the defenses, a blur of speed that rendered him virtually invisible to the watchful eyes of guards and the penetrating sensors of the mechanized guardians nearby. They registered only a slight breeze in their peripherals.

In the next breath, he stood poised at the entrance, the heavy steel door hissing open as another guard exited, his face wearing the dismissive expression of those who believed their positions exalted them above anything. Dante darted beyond the threshold. The guard, caught in a moment's surprise, could only blink as a slight breeze slipped past him.

Upon crossing the threshold, Dante was met with the sleek interior of the station—an expanse of advanced technology, illuminated by blue strips set into the floor that glowed. Walls lined with sleek panels displayed holographic data streams, showcasing an array of research, maps, and status reports in real time. Vast terminals filled with interfaces whirled next to Dante, projecting three-dimensional images of subjects, equipment, and facilities.

Ceiling-high glass chambers allowed a view into experimentation; within, an array of devices twisted and channeled mana in bright displays. Conduits tangled overhead like snakes, carrying shimmering streams of mana flowing through the station with an almost sentient quality, illuminating the space in a light. 

Dante propelled himself further into the station, his speed intensified, the fabric of space seeming to bend around his form. The guards, vigilant in posture yet dulled by routine, remained blissfully ignorant of his presence; to them, he was just a light wind.

Each corridor he raced through was a marvel—the walls embedded with gleaming panels showcasing life data streams and holographic projections. Here, he caught glimpses of research updates flashing across interface screens, snippets of coded messages, and the glow of mana-infused devices quietly humming as they churned.

"... we must expedite the trials... Subject Beta 9 is exhibiting exceptional stability, but they're wasted," whispered a voice nearby. Dante adjusted his trajectory toward the source.

Another voice interjected, edged with apprehension, "We've exceeded the ethical limits! This isn't just about results anymore; we're playing with lives here! They're not just subjects; they're—"

"—assets," the first voice insisted, dripping with arrogance. "If they're wasted, then we must prepare for contingencies. Initiate culling on the lower levels. Ensure the subjects who are useless are taken care of. The last thing we need is wasted assets. The director won't tolerate failure!"

As he absorbed their dialogue with attentiveness, he noted the mention of the lower levels. He barreled down yet another corridor adorned with circuitry. The frequency of his footsteps quickened as he approached an elevator.

Dante wasted no time, launching himself into the elevator just as the doors slid apart. The interior shimmered with a glow, walls alive with flowing data visuals that transformed into a blur of colors at his entrance. Without pressing a button, he harnessed his strength to channel the elevator's descent; in mere seconds, the world around him transformed, blurring into as floors zipped by like the pages of a book being hurriedly turned.

When the elevator finally halted, a soft chime ringing through the metallic chamber, Dante stepped onto a landing that felt distinctly different from the upper levels—more sterile, more oppressive. The air grew thicker as he glanced ahead, surveying his surroundings. The hall was dimly lit, strategic spots of illumination only casting light where it was required, leaving the opposite shadows to merge. 

As he advanced, echoes of faint, muffled sounds edged into his consciousness—whispers and soft cries. His body instinctively accelerated, each step to minimize sound.

However, the path came to an abrupt halt before a large fortified door, formidable. It loomed before him, crafted from reinforced composite metal that glinted even under the dim lights. Thick locks and complex mechanized systems adorned the surface.

Oddly enough, there were no guards stationed at its entry, a gap in the otherwise vigilant security flow. The silence here was deafening. Stepping closer, Dante examined the door's mechanisms, puzzling over the systems.

He summoned a burst of strength; time slowed around him as he prepared to initiate his next move. In a blur he propelled his fist forward; the moment his fist connected, a reverberation echoed through the air, a sound likened to thunder clapping.

The metal crumpled under the force of his fist, the reinforced structure buckling and caving inwards, dislodged from its heavy hinges, like a massive boulder rolling down a hill. The door flew wide open, crashing violently to the ground in a mix of twisted metal that sent echoes reverberating through the facility. Almost immediately, a blur of alarms pierced the silence—the station's crimson lights pulsed erratically.

But Dante, undeterred, surged into the breached area; he bolted forward, the world blurring around him once more as he followed the faint tremors of fear reaching out from the depths of the nearby holding cells. Nothing could deter him now.

He skidded to a halt before an enormous holding cell—a structure suffused with an electric blue glow cast from screens mounted high on the walls, blinking erratically as if they sensed the breach. The walls of the cell were lined with reinforced glass, impenetrable to all.

Adults and children, all battered and injured, wounds festering without care, some sporting bandages that had long since turned red, others bearing the marks of newer injuries—bruises, cuts, and the deep, hollow expressions of fear etched into their faces. Each anguished gaze met him with despair.

As he stepped closer, their terror manifested physically; the collective gasp of apprehension echoed through the cell. Their forms flinching at the sight of the dark blur now revealed to them. Dante paused just out of reach of the holding cell's barriers.

He extended a hand toward them, his voice steady, "I come in peace. I'm here to save you." His tone was firm yet gentle.

But fear held them captive still. A small child, shivering and frail, caught his attention amid the disarray. She was missing an arm, a permanent reminder of the torment she had endured, and her expressive eyes were brimming with tearful innocence; terror dulled her bright spirit, twisting her perception of hope. "Are you... an angel?" she whispered, her voice fragile as strands in a strong wind, almost lost among the rising din of alarms.

An angel. The savior she no doubt sought and called out to in all her torment For a fleeting moment, he reflected on what he currently was—savior or outlaw; both blurred under the all of his actions. He knelt slightly, coming down to her eye level, trying to shield her from the storm of red around them. "No, I'm not an angel," he replied softly, the sincerity pooling in the depths of his voice. "But I promise you, I will protect you. We'll get out of here together." Her eyes teared more and more; it was insignificant and barely there. But there was a light in her eyes.

Dante turned his attention to the massive door that held them captive. As the alarms continued to blare angrily throughout the facility, he neared the fortified entrance of the cell. He gripped the edge of the cell; with a swift motion, he wrenched aside the fortified entrance—metal squealed and creaked in protest as he tore it free, demolishing the last remnant of confinement that had held them bound. The door fell away from its thick frame, clattering loudly onto the floor, the echoes mingling violently with the piercing alarms.

Dante stepped into the cell, met with a wave of latency that seemed to ensnare the captives in a mix of fear and skeptical hope. A woman, her body littered with dirty bandages, looked at him, quivering.

"G-getting out of here... that... that's not possible." She managed to stutter out, her eyes were blank as if she no longer withheld a soul.

"They'll never let us go... it's impossible... we're... we're too 'valuable' to them..." An older man blurted out, despair had long since gripped his being.

"B-but you'll save us... right?" The small child from earlier spoke, her eyes puffy from tears. Dante gazed down at her.

"I will." Not a statement, a simple declaration he would abide by.

"This place is full of those metal monsters and guards!" A young man exclaimed, "How do you plan on getting us out!? You're merely giving false hope!"

"Do not worry," Dante merely said, turning on his heel; his cape billowed behind him like a pure white beacon. "What I plan on doing is simple. It merely involves extermination."