Warhammer: Striving to Be a Grinding Man

Chapter 168 The Internet Project (1) 944.M41

The drone returned from the net channel, and the footage it captured was clear and stable.

The passageway forks here—the left and right sides are plunged into complete darkness, while the wall directly in front is smooth and glows with a fluorescent white light.

The cross-section is nearly circular, with a diameter of about five meters, which is a typical structure of the branch node of the network.

Environment: Zero gravity, vacuum, near absolute zero. Survival time for unprotected living beings entering the environment is measured in seconds.

Cohen looked up from the data panel. He stood up and walked towards the open skeletal archway in the center of the dome. The ripples of void within the archway continued to flow silently, unchanged by the servant's passage. He checked the power armor's sealing status; the HUD inside the visor showed the airtight system was all green, oxygen circulation was normal, and the heating system was on standby.

He paused before the archway. Kara stood to the side of the door, the Stormtroopers lined up outside the perimeter, Isa Velen stood ready behind the main control array, and the psionic focusing array was in standby mode. The aura at the edge of the rift remained stable as usual.

"After I go in, the door will be closed," he said, his voice coming through the power armor's speakers. "Ten minutes after it closes, you will reactivate."

He paused for a moment. "The network cannot communicate with the real universe. I will return after the initial exploration."

66

No one present was surprised. His decision itself was a passport to success.

Cohen turned and stepped across the archway threshold. Ripples flowed across his body, briefly casting a faint halo of light over his power armor before dissipating. His boots landed on the net-like surface—let's call it the ground for now, since in a weightless environment, everything was essentially the same up, down, left, and right. The gravity boots activated automatically, their suction force perfectly maintaining his center of gravity, the joint servo system synchronously adjusted its torque output, and the low-gravity gait compensation program ran automatically.

The field expanded, and his consciousness extended. A flood of information rushed into his mind. He filtered out the noise and focused his attention on what was directly in front of him.

The door behind him remained open. From the inside of the network, it was merely a rectangular void window, less than five meters high and three meters wide, completely different from the magnificent spirit bone gate within the Wangshu Dome. He wasn't surprised that the asymmetry in scale between network nodes and entrances was common. Doors on the real universe side could be built very large or very small, even shrunk to a portable size. But the interface size on the inside of the network was determined by the network itself, with passage capacity always based on the smaller side.

He stopped dwelling on that and turned his gaze to what was before him. This was the main gate of the node. Its edges were encased in a fluorescent material frame, its color similar to that of the spirit bones, but more refined and heavier. The frame was a Baroque-style cuboid, its surface carved with dense geometric patterns and psionic channels. Compared to the outer spirit bone archway, it was much smaller, but its complexity was orders of magnitude greater. Through the ripples within the gate, nothing could be seen—it was a dimensional membrane, not a mirror.

The decomposition has begun.

The first layer is the gate frame structure itself. The lattice arrangement within the network exhibits a resilience far exceeding that of the real universe. Tiny psionic nodes are embedded between each layer, requiring individual peeling to advance. Atoms silently dissolve into clouds in higher-dimensional space. There is no sound in a vacuum.

As the door frame peeled away, the void ripples began to contract, reverting from "open" back to "material state". The ripples disappeared, revealing the mesh wall in the middle of the doorway, indistinguishable from the surrounding walls—this door was originally part of the mesh wall when it was not activated.

He continued to break it down. The walls of the net unfolded into a two-layered structure before him.

The outer layer is a pale golden interface, suspended around the periphery of the network material. It possesses spatial properties, a concrete manifestation of the network's dimensional boundary itself—a state between matter and illusion. Within the field, he sensed not only the atomic arrangement but also the tension at the dimensional level, as if the concept of "boundary" itself had been cast into matter. Subspace energy seeping in from the outside was intercepted the moment it touched this layer, its waveform attenuated and dispersed, transforming into stable psionic energy released back into the network. It performs a dual function: boundary definition and energy conversion. It is the interface layer between the network's dimensional boundary and the psionic energy circulation system.

"Boundary membrane," he named it.

He immediately realized that this thing was far superior to the creations of the Spirit Race. This was one of the most advanced techniques of the Ancient Saints, and the Spirit Bone System, which the Spirit Race was so proud of, probably had not even inherited one-tenth of its essence.

Within the boundary membrane, the main material of the network began to appear. Its appearance resembled that of the spirit bone, with a pale base color, but its interior was covered with textures like the arteries and capillaries of the human body, layered from the main veins to the branches. In this higher-dimensional space, atoms were arranged in a topological structure, each atom residing on a dynamic lattice node. Between the nodes were tiny gaps, within which flowed spiritual energy, emitting an extremely faint cold light. Countless rays of this cold light converged into a fluorescent glow, like a living net.

He named it "Holy Bone." It is older and denser than the Spirit Bone, with a lattice complexity several levels higher. The Spirit Bone is its shadow—a replica that has lost its core capabilities. Among those lost elements, the most crucial is its symbiotic relationship with the Boundary Membrane: the Boundary Membrane absorbs and transforms subspace energy, supplying the Holy Bone's capillary network as psionic energy to maintain the material's activity, psionic energy circulation, self-repair, and information storage; while the Holy Bone outputs dimensional byproducts to the Boundary Membrane, maintaining its existence. The two are interdependent; without either, the system is no longer perfect.

Complete archive of the two-layer structure: Boundary Membrane—dimensional boundary interface; Sacred Bone—the main structure of psychic activity.

During the decomposition process, the field also captured other data.

One of the protocols is older and more fundamental than the previously captured "verification protocol." It doesn't authenticate any specific nodes, but rather defines the mapping between the network's internal coordinates and the Milky Way's real-world coordinates—scale conversion, spatial dimensions, timelines—it's the underlying geographic coordinate system of the entire network system. Theoretically, if it could be cracked, the location of all nodes within the network could be known. However, its coding logic is completely out of step with human cognition.

There's even more information and data—blueprints, topologies—that can't even be named. But Cohen doesn't need to understand it to use it—he simply copies and archives it.

"Incomprehensible." He added this note in high-dimensional space and then completely sealed the data stream.

He stood there for a while. All around him was a vacuum, low temperature, and an endless dome.

Then he turned to the passages connected by this node. Three passages extended outward from the node, to the left, right, and directly in front. The two on the left and right were filled with a grayish-black, silt-like substance, loosely structured, creating a stark contrast with the exquisite sacred bone material surrounding them. Clearly, the boundary membrane had broken first, and subspace energy directly eroded the sacred bone, accumulating over time from gray to black, eventually forming a blockage. The intact passage directly in front still shone brightly, with psionic pulses flowing freely. The energy of this node was continuously input from the passage directly in front. In a few thousand years, when the blockages on the left and right have spread to this point, the node will cease to exist.

He broke down a small section of the blockage. According to the field analysis, these were active remnants left behind after chaotic energy corroded the network, existing in a state between matter and energy. It would continue to proliferate and erode the network, but the network's own repair mechanisms hadn't completely failed; the two were still in a struggle, so the corrosion rate was much slower than expected. In the cleared channels, capillary walls were exposed, and psionic energy began to flow slowly at the damaged edges. The repair was extremely weak, but it was definitely present.

He attempted a targeted repair within the area of ​​effect. A membrane grew from the damaged area, the sacred bone material rearranged at the atomic level, and the filled area regained its psychic glow. He paused to observe for a moment, confirming that the repair was feasible.

"It can be repaired." He memorized this in his mind.

The true scale of the Web extends far beyond this single node; it is a labyrinth blocked by time. Those gray-black blockages, those broken capillaries, those channels whose psionic pulses have ceased—they block every direction, slicing the Web into countless isolated nodes. Only the Eldar possess partial knowledge of the paths and coordinates; it is their most precious knowledge passed down through generations, their very foundation for survival in the universe.

Judging from the current situation, this is a rather remote branch of the network, a minor detail, and it's already a dead end.

Deep within the dark, damaged network channels on both sides, consciousness sensed dense chaotic energy. Cohen used his field to create a sealing layer of sacred bones and boundary membranes, temporarily sealing off the passageways on both sides of the node. The new wall connected with the network channel directly in front, and the internal psionic energy rapidly flowed and spread, increasing the brightness within the network channel by one level. Countless millennia later, for the first time, a new network channel wall was born here.

He returned to the main gate and began to reshape the node structure. The Baroque-style cuboid door frame regenerated from the void, every line and every psionic node identical to its pre-decomposition state. As he sculpted it, he embedded the data stream confirming the protocol into the psionic conduit layer of the door frame. The energy of the network surged within, the door and the surrounding walls merged back into one, a faint psionic glow emanating from the edges of the door frame, and the main gate and the network were reconnected.

He glanced at the timer. About ten minutes had passed since the door closed.

Seconds later, the ripples in the void reappeared, and a response surging from the depths of the Web had arrived. The psionic energy within the Web walls responded synchronously the instant the door was activated, pumping energy along the main channel to the nodes, which then transformed the psionic energy into the form required to open the door. Even the psionic energy sustaining the secondary door in the real universe came from the Web itself. It was a closed loop, a system that required no external power supply. The psionicists in the real universe provided the activation frequency—igniting it—and the energy to keep it open was supplied by the Web itself.

He walked along the net passage directly in front of him for a while. The walls of the passage maintained a steady psychic pulse, and a faint silvery-white halo of cold light spread out in the vacuum. He paused for a moment, extended his senses forward to confirm the direction, then sealed off the net passage directly in front of him again, and turned back.

We cannot leave any loopholes for danger. This is currently the only network node in Garros.

Dimensional ripples flowed silently within the doorway. He stepped back into the real universe, his gravity boots releasing their grip at the edge of the Spirit Bone Arch, and he stepped once more onto the ceramic steel floor of Wangshu's gravity field.

Kara stood by the door, her gaze sweeping over the surface of his power armor before she stepped back. Isa Velen caught her breath behind the main control array.

Cohen stood at the center of the dome, facing the open door. Ripples of void flowed steadily within the doorway, traversing the network that existed between the real universe and the warp, psionic energy maintaining its open state.

Cohen turned around. "This door will remain open from now on."

He glanced at Isa: "The psionic troops will be on duty in shifts, rotating every six hours, to maintain psionic monitoring. The activation protocol will be stored so that it can be reactivated if necessary." His gaze swept over the dozens of figures in gray robes. These people would be permanently stationed within the Webpath from now on.

Cohen turned his head to look at Vera. She was leaning against the edge of the control panel, her hands supporting her on the surface, the data transceiver array antennas behind her head fanning out, clearly engaged in high-speed data transmission and reception. Her eyes were clear and bright, full of energy, and her gaze was fixed on the open area of ​​the Spirit Bone Arch—likely exchanging some data with the Thinker Array.

"Come back to the temple with me first, we have something to do."

66

She straightened up and retracted the transceiver array antenna back into its base. "We have the network gateway. From this moment on, Garros is different," she said, her voice low but each word precise. "We only know about this one node right now. To utilize it, we at least need to figure out where it leads."

Cohen looked at her. "Finding the node is the next step. Return to the temple first, and be mindful of the security level."

66

She nodded and followed.

Cohen turned to Kara. "This will be a permanent security zone from now on. In a few days, after I've taken care of things inside the network, the main force of the Stormstrike Team will be stationed here, along with many others."

Kara didn't hesitate. "Okay."

Cohen turned and headed towards the exit. Vera followed, her steps quick and decisive. Kara led her team to follow from the other side.

The lights in the dome remained a cold white. The ripples of emptiness within the door continued to flow silently.

A group of people walked through the airtight door, which slid shut behind them.

Cohen didn't turn back; his mind was already organizing the next steps for the Webway. Building a massive base within the Webway, out of sight of the entire galactic race, becoming Garros's true home—this was a viable direction. The ability of the boundary membrane to resist warp erosion was an unparalleled protective measure, but the Sacred Relic still contained a vast amount of undecipherable information; whether the Ancient Ones had left any contingency plans remained unknown. Whether the structural logic of the Sacred Relic could be used to optimize and improve the spiritual bone material was another topic worth exploring.

Meanwhile, deep within the starry sky—in the heart of a spirit bone temple in an Ark world—a mournful wail pierced through several layers of spirit bone walls, echoing endlessly beneath the crystalline dome.

The prophets knelt amidst the remnants of prophetic runes. The once clearly flowing threads of psychic energy had snapped at a certain moment, turning into meaningless fragments. They attempted to weave them anew, but each touch felt like grasping scalding nothingness—there was no information to be found.

They could not find him. His outline did not exist.

"Not on this path," the eldest prophet spoke, his voice echoing dryly in the resonant chamber of his spirit bone, "not on any path we know."

6

They saw nothing.

The Eldar's future is shattered, but before that shattering, there was a void. And that void is more terrifying than any foreseen catastrophe.

>