Arknights: The Prophet of Penguin Logistics — Chapter 62

Chapter 62: Mechanical Catastrophe, Nanomachine Swarm

“I have reviewed all the historical records regarding Catastrophes and man-made disasters available to us,” Lynn began, his voice steady in the quiet ambiance of the bar. “And I firmly believe this world has strayed down a fundamentally flawed path in its understanding of power. It is a foolish, almost comical misconception. They treat the gifts of the gods as terrors to be quarantined. I find this highly irrational. Utterly stupid, even. They label predictable—and I must emphasize this, predictable—patterns of massive energy discharge as ‘Catastrophes.’ It is ridiculous.”

What exactly constituted a facility capable of withstanding all Catastrophes?

Lynn did not believe the answer lay in building an ark or forging some mythical Tower of Babel to hide within. On the contrary, a Catastrophe was a reverse gift, a raw and unfiltered transmission of energy. If one possessed the means to harness that vast, near-endless power, its output would rival the controlled nuclear fusion of his past life.

, this world relied on a profession known as Catastrophe Messengers. They sensed the arrival of the storm and guided the populace to flee. Lynn viewed it from the exact opposite perspective: shouldn’t humanity be rushing toward the storm? Shouldn’t they harness that majestic, terrifying power to propel their society to its absolute zenith?

He thought of his former world. It had been ugly and despicable in many ways, yet in those short few decades of modern history, the brilliance humanity had produced far outshone anything the people of Terra had achieved. Prophecies of the end, the longing for the stars, the deep reflections on society, the relentless pursuit of science—death had chased humanity like a rabid dog. Once humans realized the agonizing brevity of their lives, the brilliance that erupted in that instant, the light that burned in their youth, the poetry that bled into every waking moment… Lynn felt that desperate drive was more sacred than anything on Terra.

Human courage—the very reason humans were called humans and not beasts—stemmed from the fact that they took the fire that destroyed their homes and used it to build anew. They were the only species in the natural world that knew how to use fire, the only species that truly understood it.

So, was running from the Catastrophe the solution? No. That was merely the instinct of an animal. Fleeing solved nothing. True humanity would face the Catastrophe head-on, just as ancient ape-men had faced the wildfires that burned their forests, bravely stepping into the ashes to steal the spark and weave it into their own survival.

Whether it was Oripathy or Catastrophes, burying one’s head in the sand achieved nothing.

Only the brave, only true ‘humans,’ could solve this.

Therefore, a qualified facility capable of withstanding a Catastrophe could only be a place designed to nurture and devour it. There was no other viable path.

Without the resolve to be burned by the flames, how could one ever appreciate the warmth that followed the destruction? A race that only knew the horror of ruin but could not feel its potential had no future. Lynn felt that a civilization capable of engineering massive Mobile Cities should not be this short-sighted. Perhaps someone out there was already doing it, secretly researching Oripathy and Catastrophes in the dark, but Lynn still wanted to impart the theories and concepts of his past life to the Rhine Lab researcher sitting across from him.

“If you refuse to witness destruction, how can you harness it? If you don’t understand the disaster, how can you bend it to your will?” Lynn leaned forward slightly, holding Mayer’s gaze. “You have seen that devastating power, haven’t you? What if you held that power in your own hands? What if you could control all of it? Understand the Catastrophe, use the Catastrophe, and ultimately… become the Catastrophe.”

He let the words hang in the air for a fraction of a second before continuing. “Nanomachines, self-repairing fluid structures, Originium technology, governing artificial intelligence… Although I don’t know exactly how many technical barriers stand in the way, I know that a mind like yours can picture the scene.”

Lynn’s voice carried through the dim lighting of the bar, possessing an inexplicable, magnetic pull. Every syllable seemed to brand itself directly into Mayer’s mind.

“Picture a silvery-white city,” Lynn murmured softly. “People are living happily, and suddenly, an alarm sounds. Meteorites fall from the sky. Earthquakes tear the ground apart. Lightning storms and other Catastrophes chain together in a localized apocalypse. But the city is alive. It is a self-replicating entity forged from nanomachines and fluid architecture. Its very structure absorbs the kinetic shockwaves of the earthquake, continuously converts the raw voltage of the lightning into usable power, and calculates the exact landing trajectories of the meteorites to deploy kinetic catchers and energy-generating grids in advance.”

Mayer’s breath hitched, her eyes wide.

“After a heaven-shaking roar, the dust settles, and the city returns to its original state. The raw Originium and the endless energy brought by the Catastrophe now fill every battery and grid. This living city then uses that stolen energy to lift off from the ground, flowing like liquid silver to the next disaster zone, continuously gorging itself on the power of the storms. Finally, one day, enough material has been harvested. The entire surface of the planet is coated in a silver brilliance. Terra becomes a world of artificial creation, every ounce of matter used by machines. Our home planet will bloom in the dark of the universe, opening its crust to drink the energy of its own core and the surrounding stars.”

Lynn smiled, a quiet, visionary curve of the lips. “Synthetic food, artificial water. Once everything is perfectly controlled by human hands, we can break free from this heaven-sent cradle. Loaded with infinite energy and hope, we will sail toward the other planets in the night sky. Is there anything more romantic, anything greater than that?”

He sat back, his tone dropping to a matter-of-fact calm. “Faced with a nanomachine swarm, a Catastrophe has no other purpose than to serve as a battery.”

And I am certain this can be done.

Looking at the utterly shell-shocked Mayer, Lynn held a look of absolute determination.

In his past life, theoretical models for this already existed. There had been complete project proposals and initial blueprints. Earth simply lacked a material as counter-intuitive and miraculous as Originium, which created impossible bottlenecks in materials science. Besides, with the advent of nuclear fusion and other violent apparatuses, there had been no pressing need to pursue such an extreme path.

But the people of Terra did not possess the radiance of the stars, nor had they mastered that specific brand of terrifying power. If a modern physicist had transmigrated here instead of him, starting their tech tree with a two-hundred-megaton bomb, let alone surviving a Catastrophe, it would be a miracle if even a single scrap of dirt remained within a five-hundred-kilometer radius. The destructive yield of a hydrogen bomb had no theoretical upper limit. Throw in a Tokamak device or a stellarator, mix it with Originium technology, and they would likely turn Terra into a miniature sun on the spot.

Unfortunately, Lynn was not a physicist. He could only describe the grand sci-fi concepts of his past life to brilliant minds like Mayer and hope they figured out the math.

“…Boss,” Mayer whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “Are you the God of Machines?”

Lynn chuckled dryly. “No need to flatter me like that. Others just call me the Prophet.”

If planting this seed could eventually prevent Catastrophes and allow humanity to step into the stars, that would be a truly magnificent outcome.

Looking at Mayer, whose face was flushed crimson with excitement and agitation, Lynn knew that this line of thinking had taken root. He offered a quiet, satisfied smile.