[Chapter 59. Missing Gear]

  His vision faded from the obsidian-like floor to the rough gravel of the riverbank, the disorienting sensation leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. He stood there for a moment, the clean scent of water and damp earth a stark jarring contrast to the sterile metallic atmosphere of the node. Before he shook his head, his coat rustling softly and said softly, "This is something for later."

  In one fluid motion, he grabbed the travel drone that appeared next to him. His fingers closing around the slightly oval disk's handhold, and was dragged into the sky. The sudden ascent pressing him into the indentation. It brought him directly to the next location where a familiar circle of stones stood, partially hidden by overhanging branches. The travel drone dismissed mid-flight before it was fully on the ground, the drone dissolving into motes of blue light with a faint chime. Searanox dropped the last few meters onto the soft moss-covered ground around the central stone, his boots sinking into the soft earth.

  His hand touched the center stone, the surface smooth and slightly cool despite the surrounding warmth. But instead of teleporting him, a System window appeared in his vision. Its stark text a sudden intrusion against the backdrop of the forest.

  He screamed in his mind, the frustration boiling over as he kicked a nearby branch with unnecessary force. Sending splinters flying into the damp air. The branch snapped with a sickening crack, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the forest. A small, violent release for the rage building inside him.

  He looked up at the sky, his eyes scanning the empty blue expanse before dismissing the recon drone hovering there with a sharp mental command. With a sigh that was more a growl of resignation, he walked deeper into the forest. The soft moss muffling his footsteps. He let another travel drone appear, its familiar oval shape a small comfort in the face of his mounting frustration. He climbed onto it, the metal cool against his palms and it lifted him from the ground. The ascent smooth and silent. The forest below him became a blur of green and brown as the drone accelerated, the wind whipping at his face and pulling at the dark fabric of his coat. The black tower growing larger in his vision with each passing second.

  The drone slowed as it approached the tower, its descent as controlled as its ascent. Searanox dismissed it as he stepped onto the balcony, his boots landing softly on the cool stone. The transition from air to solid ground jarring in its abruptness. The atrium was empty, its vast echoing silence pressing in on him after the chaotic energy of the Node Guardian he had just faced. The low hum of the tower a constant, reassuring presence.

  He walked toward the Land Node in the center of the atrium, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space. The sound bouncing off the inward-projecting buttressess. He placed a hand on the pulsating stone, its energy a familiar thrum against his palm and a new drone materialized in a flash of blue light. The Autonomous Sentinel Drone—a sleek, silver construct with a series of glowing sensors along its chassis—hovered silently for a moment. Its sensors sweeping the area in a systematic pattern before ascending into the rafters of the atrium, where it took up its position as a silent watchful guardian.

  He made his way to the roof, the open air a welcome relief after the confines of the node and the atrium. The wind a gentle caress against his skin. He walked past the opulent bedroom suite, the war room, the hexagon room and stepped into the master bath. The room was a sanctuary of luxury, with a massive sunken bath carved from a single piece of polished white stone that seemed to glow with an inner light. Steam rose from the water, filling the room with a warm humid mist that carried the faint clean scent of mineral salts.

  He sank into the hot water with a deep sigh, the heat seeping into his muscles. Washing away the grime and tension of the day, the warmth a balm against the lingering memory of the Golem's overwhelming power. He closed his eyes, his mind drifting back to the Node Guardian—to the deafening roar of its attacks, to the chilling certainty that he was not yet strong enough to claim what was his. He let out a long slow breath, the water rippling around him as he pushed the thoughts aside. Focusing instead on the simple undeniable pleasure of the bath—a rare moment of peace in a world that was anything but, the steam curling around him like a shroud. The sound of his own breathing a soft, steady rhythm in the quiet room.

  After an hour, he emerged from the bathroom. Steam clinging to his skin as he donned the same clothes he had worn before, the dark fabric feeling cool against his freshly cleansed body. He warped to the third floor of the tower in a flash of violet light, finding himself in the central hub from which four identical corridors branched off. He walked down the first corridor. He stopped at the third door on the left, the silver handle gleaming faintly in the violet light. He didn't knock. He didn't have to.

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside.

  Vanessa was pacing the length of the room like a caged predator, her fiery red hair a stark contrast to the beige walls that seemed to drain the color from everything else in the room. Carmen sat on the edge of the bed, her back perfectly straight. Her hands resting calmly in her lap as if she were waiting for a business meeting rather than living through a nightmare. Lana and Sarah were huddled together on a small sofa near the window, their bodies pressed close as if seeking warmth from each other in the chill of the room.

  Vanessa was the first to break the suffocating silence. "What are you doing here?" she demanded, her green eyes blazing with a hatred she no longer bothered to hide. "Creep." The word hung in the air like poison, but Searanox remained unmoved.

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  Searanox ignored her outburst completely, his gaze sweeping over the room with clinical detachment. His eyes settled on Carmen, the only one who met his gaze without flinching. Her dark pools reflecting his image with unnerving calm.

  "You have your classes." he said, his tone flat devoid of emotion as if discussing logistics rather than their fates. "You have your rooms. You have your food." He paused, letting the words hang in the air. A heavy oppressive weight that seemed to press down on their shoulders. "Why are you not training?"

  Carmen looked up at him, her dark eyes unreadable despite the storm of emotions clearly visible in her companions. "We can't." she said, her words low and steady. Carrying the weight of undeniable logic. "We have no gear." She gestured to Lana, who instinctively moved her hands to cover her chest. A subconscious gesture of vulnerability that made her seem even smaller in the room's atmosphere.

  Searanox's gaze drifted from Carmen to the others, taking in their defensive postures. The way they avoided his eyes. He saw the truth in her words, the practical barrier that prevented their progress. "Yes… that is true. But you could test the limits of your skills. It's not like I can just buy gear for you…" The faintest hint of frustration colored his voice before it returned to its characteristic monotone.

  It was in that moment that a System window opened.

  he screamed out internaly.

  He took a deep breath and opened the category Armor.

  He turned toward them and said in a calm tone that stood in harsh contrast to his mental outburst seconds ago, his voice now a low measured sound that carried an unnerving composure, "Alright, it seems I can get you some gear. It's simple, but for now it's better than what you have—which would be nothing."

  He walked to the center of the room, his boots making soft rhythmic sounds on the polished stone floor as his gaze swept over them. A dismissive assessment that made Lana shrink further into herself. "Each of you tell me what you need." He looked at Lana, who flinched under his gaze. Her eyes wide with fear. "Don't be shy. I'm in a good mood."

  "Wait—never mind. There is only one option." he said before she could answer, his words cutting through the tense silence with finality.

  From seemingly nowhere, four sets of simple armor appeared. Landing at his feet with a soft metallic clatter. They didn't look very pretty, metal sheets were woven into the leather and cotton. A rudimentary attempt at protection that seemed more insulting than useful.

  "That is such bullshit… Thanks for nothing. I almost died multiple times a day because I had no armor or weapon." he muttered as he navigated through the shop, his fingers twitching with suppressed frustration as he scrolled through the limited options.

  Vanessa crossed her arms over her chest, her fiery red hair seeming to blaze with defiance as her expression hardened with disbelief before curling into contempt. "You expect us to wear that? It's… it's rags. We'll look like pathetic peasants."

  "This is what the System offers at this level." Searanox said, his tone flat and cold. His gaze unwavering as he stared at her. "You either wear it, or you go into the Burrowing Depths in what you have now." He paused, letting the unspoken threat hang in the air like a guillotine. "The choice is yours."

  He didn't wait for their response, his focus shifting back to the System Shop. With a few mental commands, he navigated to the Weapons category. His brow furrowing in concentration, the lines on his forehead deepening in the dim light. The list appeared before him—a collection of crude, rudimentary weapons.

  He looked at the list, a weary sigh escaping him as he scanned the pathetic options displayed in the glowing system window. The weapons were barely a step above sharpened sticks, their simple designs a stark reminder of their limited options. With a few mental commands, his fingers twitching with suppressed frustration as he navigated the rudimentary interface. He selected what they would need—practicality over aesthetics, function over form.

  From seemingly nowhere came two daggers, two wooden staffs, one spear, one shield, and one shortsword. They materialized in a soft blue flash before landing atop the pile of simple armor already at his feet, the metallic clatter echoing faintly in the room's sterile silence. Vanessa watched with barely concealed disgust, her lip curling at the sight of the crude implements.

  He nudged the shortsword with his boot, the sound of metal scraping against metal unpleasantly sharp in the quiet room. The blade was dull, the edge barely sharpened, with visible imperfections along its surface that would catch and drag in a fight. The hilt was wrapped in rough leather, already beginning to fray at the edges where it met the crossguard. The shield was a simple wooden circle, a strips of metal hammered across its face for minimal reinforcement, leaving large vulnerable areas of exposed grain. The daggers were little more than sharpened metal, their balance poor and their grips uncomfortable, their points blunted from what looked like repeated clumsy handling. The staffs were uneven lengths of wood, smoothed but otherwise unadorned, one visibly thicker and heavier than its counterpart. The spear was essentially a stick with a simple metal head, its connection point crudely riveted.

  "That should be enough for training." Searanox said, his eyes fixed on the pile of gear at his feet. His voice devoid of any conviction. "For now."

  A System notification appeared in his vision, the text stark against the black of his pupils. A cold acknowledgment of his expenditure.

  "Extortion." he muttered, the word barely audible as he stared at the pathetic equipment.