Chapter Fourteen — Shame
Sam stared at the screen in silence.
For a split second, his first thought had been that's it?
Then the implications landed.
One minute—that was all it took for his eyes to widen in shock.
"…holy shit."
The words slipped out under his breath before he could stop them.
Serena, who had been grinning at her own status screen, suddenly exclaimed, "Sam! Check it out—I got an SSS-ranked talent now too!"
Sam didn't answer.
"Sam…?" Serena called again, but received no response.
His eyes were still scanning the translucent panel, rereading the same lines as if expecting them to change.
"Are you going to ignore me?" Serena asked, lips pursed in a faint pout.
That snapped him back.
"Huh… what did you say?"
"Hmph. I said I've got an SSS-ranked talent now too," she repeated, still pouting.
"Oh… that's good. Were there any other changes?" he asked, absently reaching out to pat her head.
That did it.
Her pout slowly faded. "No, nothing else. How about you?" She hesitated, then added, "Your talent was already SSS-ranked before, right?"
"Ah… well…"
—————
Hiss.
The armory door slid open with a sharp, pressure-filled hydraulic sigh.
Sam had been expecting racks of cold weapons—that's how it always was in the movies, right? The protagonist wielding some overpowered, oversized sword while casually killing through the apocalypse.
As for guns, they were always—for some reason—missing whenever the world ended.
So even though he'd expected something, what he wasn't prepared for—
Was this.
His mouth went dry.
"Whoa…" Serena breathed, eyes wide as she stepped through first.
Sam followed a second later, just as stunned.
The space beyond was vast—far larger than the corridor suggested. Rows upon rows of equipment lined the walls, illuminated by soft white lighting. Bladed weapons, firearms, armored gear, strange glowing artifacts—some sleek and futuristic, others ancient-looking and brutal.
And at the center of it all, displayed beneath a glass enclosure like that iconic moment in the Batman movies—
Two futuristic suits of armor stood upright.
They looked eerily similar to Iron Man's, but in metallic black and sliver.
Even motionless, they carried a presence.
An aura that drew the eye no matter where you stood.
Sam swallowed, feeling something stir.
"Atlas…" he said slowly. "What are those?" Pointing towards the display.
Whirr.
ATLAS' lens twisted slightly.
"That is a Prototype Combat Exosuit."
Sam blinked. "Prototype?"
Serena stepped up beside him.
"Yes," ATLAS replied. "Designation: Aegis-Class True Augmentation Armor."
The display panel beside the suits flickered to life, lines of technical data scrolling past too fast for either of them to follow.
"These units were designed by your parents approximately six years prior," ATLAS continued. "They were constructed as contingency assets for both of you in the event of unsuccessful awakenings."
Serena's brows knitted together. "Hold up—awakening can fail?"
"Artificial awakening—yes," ATLAS answered. "Your parents were unaware that Earth itself would eventually trigger natural awakenings after the apocalypse fully descended so they made these."
Sam exhaled quietly.
So they'd been planning let them awaken artificially before all the mess began, but why not just tell them all these from a young age?
Couldn't they have then done something to be better prepared physically and mentally?
"I see… what else?" Sam finally asked.
ATLAS continued, voice steady.
"Each suit provides enhanced physical output, reinforced skeletal support, internal mana circulation assistance, and limited environmental protection."
"In practical terms," ATLAS added, "they allow an unawakened human to temporarily operate at approximately D-rank physical capacity."
Both of them stared at the armor.
Honestly—what guy wouldn't want to fly around in an Iron Man–style suit? Everything else was just a bonus.
But one word stuck with Sam.
"Temporarily?" he repeated.
"The strain on the human body increases exponentially with continued use," ATLAS replied. "Sustained operation without true awakening carries significant risk."
Silence settled.
Serena swallowed. Sam nodded slowly.
It made sense.
Just imagining moving at superhuman speeds while still possessing an ordinary nervous system made his scalp prickle. The suits would have to force their synapses into overdrive so they are able to process informations happening at that speed.
That alone could leave permanent nerve damage.
Sam released a slow breath.
Serena suddenly clapped her hands together.
"…Well! Check this out—I found a cool antenna. Maybe with this we can finally get some cell signal."
She lifted a strange device. Its base was shaped like a megaphone, its top like a small dish, with a glowing green bar running along its length.
Whirr.
"Miss," ATLAS said calmly, "that is not an antenna."
"Huh… what is it then?" Serena asked, eyes widening.
"That is a pulse-emitting rifle-gun."
"…oh."
Sam couldn't help it.
A short laugh escaped him.
"Hey—don't laugh!" Serena exclaimed, spinning toward him.
"I'm not laughing," he said, turning away, trying to keep a straight face—he failed.
A quiet chuckle slipped out.
"Hey…"
"It's not my fault," Serena protested. "It's clearly shaped like an antenna!"
—————
A few more minutes passed.
"ATLAS, is that all?" Serena asked with a yawn. "I'm already feeling tired. What time is it, by the way?"
"It is past 1 A.M.," ATLAS replied. "There are several remaining items, but they will not be necessary at this moment. There is only one item of priority left."
Serena straightened slightly. "Where is it? Here?"
"No. The item is located in the previous chamber."
"The one with the tank?" Serena nodded "Alright—lead the way."
She turned toward Sam.
He didn't notice.
Sam was busy examining a stall plasma-emitting hollow blade.
In other words—
A lightsaber.
He turned it slowly in his hand, watching the faint energy shimmer along its edge.
He couldn't help it. He was still a guy.
And even beyond that… just holding it stirred something deeper. Memories surfaced—fragments of his father's cryptic lectures.
Son, you must remember—
The words cut off in his mind.
Sam frowned.
Back then, he'd never understood half of what his father said. It always sounded abstract. Vague. Pointless.
But now that he thought of it…
Most of it could be translated into survival training, couldn't it? A crash course towards surviving the apocalypse?
His breath caught.
Serena's voice finally broke through.
"Sam!"
"Huh—w-what?"
He blinked, dragged back to reality.
Serena stared at him for a moment, clearly exasperated.
Then she turned away with a sigh.
"Let's go. We're done here."
"Oh…"
Sam quickly set the weapon back into its rack and followed after her.
—————————
"…So this is the last item?" Serena asked, raising a brow. "A book?"
She stood beside Sam in front of a familiar looking podium holding a single black book.
"Yes," ATLAS replied. "Its contents describe a mana absorption method."
"A what?!" Sam blurted, eyes widening.
"A mana absorption technique," ATLAS corrected calmly. "A foundational requirement for progressing through ranks."
Both of them leaned in slightly.
ATLAS continued.
"Every awakened individual possesses a core. This is what awakening is all about—the activation of this core."
"The next step is accumulation."
"Mana is drawn into the core. When sufficient mana is gathered, internal pressure forces compression while simultaneously expanding the core's capacity."
"This process forms the basis of ranking up."
Sam's expression slowly shifted.
So that's how it worked.
ATLAS gestured toward the book.
"This technique optimizes mana intake and circulation efficiency. It is the result of over a thousand years of accumulated research and refinement."
"Without it," ATLAS added, "progression would be drastically slower and significantly more wasteful."
Silence followed.
Serena brows furrowed, she glanced at Sam to see if he was following.
"…So basically," sam asked slowly, "this book is a cultivation technique?"
"That is an accurate simplification," ATLAS replied.
Sam let out a quiet breath, then he opened his mouth—and promptly shattered the serious atmosphere that had formed over ATLAS' speech.
"So…" he said slowly, scratching his cheek. "I don't see a title on it."
He glanced at the plain black cover.
"What's it called?" He paused, then squinted.
"Wait—don't tell me." He gasped, "black cover… a podium protected by a barrier… an AI to oversee…"
Double gasp. "Is this… the Demon-Subduing, Buddha-Smashing, Eight Directions and Four Winds Mountain Canon?"
Serena stared at him.
"…the what?"
ATLAS' lens rotated a fraction.
"That designation does not exist in any of my recorded database."
Sam clicked his tongue.
"Shame." He shrugged. "Would've been cool."