MM Racing Chapter 25 Machine Soul
Chapter 25 Machine Soul
Subspace travel has entered its second week.
The Black Pearl glided smoothly through the chaotic sea, the colors outside the portholes churning as usual, and the ship's vibrations maintained a steady, soporific rhythm. On the bridge, watch personnel rotated shifts, and the servitors quietly carried out their pre-programmed tasks; everything operated smoothly and methodically.
Liu En sat in the commander's seat, flipped through the data panel in his hand, and then put it back in the slot on the armrest. It contained Marcus's weekly navigation briefing—engine room operations were normal, Void Shield energy output was stable, and routine weapon system checks had passed. Phyllis had also submitted a logistical consumption list, the figures within his expected range.
He put the data panel down and leaned back in his chair. Everything seemed normal. He stood up and said to Marcus, "You keep an eye on it."
Marcus nodded. "Yes, Captain."
Liu En walked out of the bridge, through the corridor, turned left, passed through an airtight door, and then through a short passage to arrive at the private workshop.
This was the only area on the Black Pearl that only he could access. Access was locked; only his biometrics and data interface could open it. The workshop wasn't large, but it was fully equipped—workbenches, Thinker terminals, materials analyzers, and a complete set of tools he had personally crafted. The lighting panels used warm-toned light sources.
He closed the door, locked it, and sat down at the workbench. His half-body power armor gleamed a dark gray in the warm light—this armor, salvaged from the Lucis flea market, had undergone his remodeling and numerous optimizations; the machine spirit within was no longer the weak, old soldier it once was. Its pulse was strong and steady, and each touch brought a distinct sense of intimacy. He tapped his breastplate, and a soft buzz came from the communicator, as if in response.
He turned his attention back to the worktable and carefully took something out of the inner pocket of his robe.
A laser pistol.
This wasn't one of the mass-produced standard weapons issued to the Black Pearl. This gun was much older; most of the blued finish on the barrel had worn away, revealing the dark gray metal underneath. A layer of anti-slip tape was wrapped around the grip, the edges of which were frayed and had faded from their original black to a dark gray. Below the muzzle was a line of hand-engraved words in low Gothic script, the strokes rough but deeply pressed: "Cardia will never fall."
This morning, an old soldier named Lars delivered it to Liu En.
Lars was one of the five hundred retired veterans. In his fifties, with gray hair, his left leg replaced by a crudely made mechanical prosthesis. He stopped Liu En in the Black Pearl's hangar, holding the gun in both hands. "Captain, this... is for you."
Liu En remembered him. Phyllis had said that Lars had served in the Astral Army in Cadia, and after the fall of Cadia, he ended up in Lucis. Twenty-eight years of military service, three serious injuries, countless close-quarters battles. After retiring, he lived in Lucis's hive for two years until a recruitment notice from the Forging World found him.
"Why are you giving this to me?" Liu En asked.
Lars was silent for a few seconds. "Captain, my life is worthless. But the equipment you gave us—power armor, bomb guns, plasma pistols—those things are valuable. When I served in the Astragalus Force, I never saw any officer equip his subordinates with such good gear. I have nothing to repay you with, except this gun, which I've had for thirty years and brought from Cardia."
Liu En took the gun.
At this moment, he placed the gun on the workbench, and the field expanded, covering the entire gun. This was the second time he had encountered a mechanical creation with an organic soul. The first was the half-body power armor, which he was currently wearing—but the origin of the half-body armor was unknown; he had only found it by chance at a flea market and didn't know what it had been through. But this gun was different; he knew its origin.
Kadia. The gateway to the Eye of Terror. Thirty years of service, countless shots fired on the edge of warp radiation.
He took a deep breath, his consciousness activated, and the decomposition command was issued. The old gun vanished silently, turning into a cloud of atoms stored in the warehouse. At the same time, a complete set of information on the material composition flooded into his database—every single atom, from the muzzle to the butt, from the blued surface to the internal energy guiding grooves, was precisely recorded.
Then he saw it.
Deep within the blueprint, in the atomic layers near the energy guide slot, lies a peculiar structure. It is not metal, not a coating, not any standard laser pistol component. It is a region where the atomic arrangement is fundamentally different from the surrounding matrix—the bonding angle is shifted by less than one percent, the electron cloud distribution exhibits a pattern he has never seen before, and the lattice is doped with a few universal atoms.
Machine Soul.
He extracted this structure separately, labeled it "Machine Soul - Cartier Pistol - Source Sample," and stored it in the core category of the database. It was old and serene, like a veteran who had experienced decades of war, its pulse slow but firm.
Compared to the half-body armor's mech spirit, this gun's mech spirit has an additional traceable source—the warp. Radiation from Cardia, energy leaks at the edge of the Eye of Terror, and thirty years of battlefield exposure—these conditions collectively gave birth to its mech spirit. While the half-body armor's mech spirit's origin is unknown, this gun provides a clear indication: its mech spirit is closely connected to the warp.
He decided to conduct systematic experiments to verify the previous conclusions and supplement them with new findings.
Step 1: Copying the same product category
He retrieved the universal atoms from the warehouse and molded them according to the complete blueprint. The first new gun took shape. He picked up the gun and probed it with his consciousness.
The machine spirit existed. Aged and serene, its pulse steady, the frequency and signal characteristics of its beat perfectly mirroring the original gun machine spirit's experience within the old gun. It wasn't a diminished copy, but a completely new entity of the same nature. When his consciousness touched it, he felt a natural affinity—exactly the same feeling the half-armor replica gave him. It didn't recognize this world, but it recognized him.
He placed the first replica gun on the left side of the worktable.
He retrieved the universal atom from the warehouse again and sculpted a second gun according to the same blueprint. After it was completed, he picked up the second gun and probed it with his consciousness.
The machine spirit exists. The pulse frequency, signal strength, and sense of intimacy—it's exactly the same as the first one. The machine spirits of the two clones are like twins, completely identical in nature and strength.
He recorded in the database: "The properties of the cloned mecha souls are consistent with the original, with no reduction in strength, and there are no differences between the clones. The cloned mecha souls have a natural affinity for the creator."
Step 2: Grafting similar product categories
He sculpted a standard military plasma pistol from the warehouse—a handheld energy weapon like the laser gun, but with a more complex structure and a different energy core. During the sculpting process, he grafted the blueprint of the Cartier pistol's mechanical essence onto the atomic blueprint of the plasma pistol, embedding it near the energy core.
The shaping was complete. The plasma pistol took shape. He picked up the gun and probed into it with his consciousness.
The machine spirit exists. But its condition is poor. The pulse is weak and irregular, and the signal attenuation is obvious, as if it has been stuffed into a barely usable container. It has not dissipated, but it is uncomfortable. This is exactly the same result as when he grafted the machine spirit of the half-body armor onto the Solvin-type power armor—between similar types, the machine spirit can survive, but its condition is poor, and it seems to have no future.
He recorded in the database: "Similar types (laser gun → plasma gun, both are handheld energy weapons) grafted together, the machine spirit survives but is in poor condition."
Step 3: Complete cross-category integration
He sculpted a standard-model power armor from the warehouse—not the half-body armor he was wearing, but a complete "Solvin" type fully enclosed power armor. These were completely different types of equipment—weapons and protective gear, with no similarities in function, form, or structure. He grafted the blueprints of the Cartier pistol onto the blueprints of this power armor, embedding it into the armor layer inside the chest plate.
The shaping was complete. The power armor took shape. He put it on, activated the system, and probed into it with his consciousness.
The machine spirit existed, but it began to gradually dissipate from the moment it took shape. The pulse grew weaker and weaker, the signal continued to weaken, like a remnant whose life force had been drained. It did not immediately annihilate, but the trend of dissipation was irreversible. This was consistent with the result when he grafted the machine spirit of the half-body armor onto the laser gun—between completely different categories, the machine spirit could not maintain stability and would gradually dissipate until it was completely annihilated.
He recorded in the database: "Complete cross-category grafting (handheld weapon → protective gear) will cause the machine spirit to gradually dissipate and eventually be completely annihilated. This is consistent with previous conclusions."
Experimental conclusions
He merged all the data from today with the records of the half-body power armor mech and filed them together, writing in the remarks column:
"First, the machine spirit is closely connected to the subspace. The formation of the machine spirit in the Cardia pistol can be attributed to long-term exposure to the radiation of the Eye of Terror. The origin of the half-body armor is unknown, but similar conditions are speculated."
Second, the blueprint for a Mech Soul can be completely copied. Mech Souls copied from the same category have the same properties as the originals, with no reduction in strength. Copied Mech Souls have a natural affinity for the creator.
3. Grafting similar categories (handheld weapon → handheld weapon): The machine soul can survive but its condition is poor.
Fourth, if a completely cross-category graft occurs (handheld weapon → protective gear), the machine spirit will gradually dissipate and eventually be completely annihilated. This is consistent with previous conclusions.
V. Currently known methods for enhancing mech spirits are only equipment maintenance and performance upgrades—the fact that the half-body armor mech spirit is far stronger than before proves this. Whether other enhancement methods exist is unknown.
He carefully stored the two replica pistols—one as a spare weapon and the other sealed away for further research. The plasma pistol was in poor condition and its future deterioration was uncertain, so it was stored separately and marked "Experimental - Unstable." The machine spirit within the experimental power armor had completely dissipated, and the power armor itself was decomposed and its atoms recycled.
Then he stood up and tidied up the worktable.
He now possessed two distinct samples of mech source material: a half-body power armor and a Cadia laser pistol. Both were similar in nature but different in origin. The gun's mech source was almost certainly related to subspace radiation—providing him with a clear direction for his research. The half-body armor's mech source was unknown, but its very existence spoke volumes about its wearability.
As for how to enhance the machine spirit—whether there are other methods besides maintenance and upgrades—he didn't know. Perhaps in the future he would encounter a third or fourth item with a machine spirit, and then there would be new discoveries.
He glanced down at the breastplate. The mechanical spirit within the half-body armor pulsated slightly, as if responding to his gaze.
He turned and walked out of the workshop, through the corridor, and back to the bridge.
Just then, his communicator rang.
Lieutenant Kara's voice came through the channel. "Captain, there's a problem on the lower deck."
"explain."
"A logistics staff member got lost on the lower deck. Deck 3, Sector B. She wandered around for almost two hours without finding her way back, and her communicator was out of power. The patrol crew found her by spotting her locator beacon signal. She's alright, just a little embarrassed."
"I'll go take a look."
The lower deck was at the very bottom of the Black Pearl, nearly three kilometers in a straight line from the bridge. Liu En passed through a series of airtight doors and descended the vertical passageway, floor by floor. The corridor grew narrower and narrower, and the overhead lights changed from the warm white of the bridge area to a stark white.
When he arrived at Section B of the third deck, Lieutenant Kara was already waiting there. She was wearing full power armor, her helmet tucked under her arm. Standing before her was a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a gray logistics uniform, blushing and with her head down. Two combat service servitors stood nearby.
"Captain," Lieutenant Kara saluted, "Logistics officer Lina. Today is her first inventory and independent patrol on the lower deck."
Liu En glanced at the young woman. Lina's face flushed red, her lips moved, and her voice was thin and urgent: "Captain, I... I turned the wrong way, and then all the corridors looked the same, so I didn't dare to wander off, and..."
"Alright." Liu En didn't scold her, but turned around and looked around at the passageway.
The third deck houses the Black Pearl's cargo holds and equipment area. The passageway stretches straight ahead, disappearing into the distance. Numbers are painted on the bulkheads every few meters, but there are no directional signs. All the doors look the same, all the pipes look the same. It would be perfectly normal for a newly boarded logistics staff member to get lost here.
"How many cabins are there on the third deck?" Liu En asked.
Lieutenant Kara flipped through the data panel in her hand. "Including cargo holds, equipment rooms, and pipe shafts, there are over 1,200 in total, large and small. The total length of the corridors—the navigation team has calculated it—is over 40 kilometers on this floor alone, including the main corridors and branch corridors."
Liu En nodded. "Install navigation signs. Set up directional signs at each intersection, labeled in both low Gothic and binary. Also, issue everyone a spare power pack to wear on their belt."
"Yes." Lieutenant Kara noted it down.
Liu En glanced at Lina and said calmly, "Go back and rest. Pay attention to the signs next time. If you get lost, don't wander off. Find a conspicuous spot, press the location beacon, and your servant will come to find you."
Lina saluted, turned, and left. Lieutenant Kara shook her head and continued her patrol with her sergeant.
Liu En stood there, watching Lina disappear at the end of the corridor. Then he turned around and walked down the corridor in another direction.
He wanted to see his ship. The Black Pearl was nearly five kilometers long, and he had personally sculpted every bulkhead, every pipe, and every armor plate from an atomic level. But he had never truly "walked" the ship. He walked through the passageways of the lower decks, flanked by rows of tightly closed hatches, with a spiderweb of pipes and cable trays overhead. He walked for about twenty minutes, passing over a hundred doors, through three airtight doors, down a flight of stairs, and through an even narrower passageway. His field of vision remained open; everything within ten meters was within his perception.
He stopped, leaned against a bulkhead, and tapped the metal surface lightly with his fingers. A deep, resonant sound came from it. He had built it. Stacked from atoms. The thought filled him with both pride and unease. Pride because he had accomplished something almost no one in the universe could. Unease because the ship was too big, so big that even he himself could get lost.
He turned around and walked back the way he came.
When he returned to the bridge, Marcus was standing in front of the holographic projection table, staring at the flight path data. He looked up when he saw Liu En enter.
"Captain, has the situation on the lower deck been resolved?"
"It's fixed. We've added signage and provided backup power."
Marcus nodded without asking any further questions.
Liu En walked to the commander's seat and sat down, his gaze falling on the warp outside the porthole. The purple, chaotic sea surged silently. The Black Pearl's first warp voyage was unusually smooth. Five hundred veterans—those salvaged from the ruins of the Astronautical Army and the Planetary Defense Force—stood at their posts. Some came from Cardia, some from Taran, some from small worlds whose names had been forgotten by the Empire. They carried equipment far exceeding Imperial standards, wore brand-new power armor, and on this ship, they did what they knew best: fight, or prepare for battle.
The logistics personnel operated smoothly under Phyllis's direction. Sera maintained the subspace route in the navigation module, while Hera Voss listened to the interstellar broadcasts in the communications module. Five thousand servants moved silently through the corridors.
Everything is on track.
Liu En rose and returned to his private workshop, settling into the workbench by the specially designed porthole. His domain expanded to a ten-meter radius, and his consciousness sank into a higher-dimensional space, glancing at the warehouse's reserves. The stockpile of universal atoms began to gradually increase, with supplies from the subspace flowing continuously. In the database, two machine spirit source samples lay quietly in the classification catalog—a half-body power armor and a Cartier pistol. They told him the same thing: machine spirits were inseparable from the subspace, and his affinity for machine spirits stemmed from the act of shaping them.
He glanced down at his breastplate. The mechanical spirit within the half-body armor pulsed slightly again. He didn't speak, but simply raised his hand and tapped the breastplate twice.