Fortress – Subterranean Laboratory
With Yoan sent away, Qin Mo turned his full attention to the dimensional transmission experiment.
The prototype apparatus was carefully transported to the testing chamber, a vast, newly excavated cavern carved from glossy obsidian bedrock. It was lit only by flickering lumen strips and the cold, intermittent glow of cogitator displays, casting long shadows that danced across the walls.
Its walls were reinforced with thick plasteel plating and humming null-field generators, designed to suppress any stray psychic interference that might disrupt the experiment or alert unwanted eyes.
Two reinforced holding cells had been constructed at opposite ends of the chamber, their adamantium locks and stasis fields humming with power like caged thunder.
The test subject was already secured inside the left cell.
He was not a heretic priest, nor a Chaos cultist.
Just a common criminal.
His crime? Attempting to dismantle a drone for scrap.
A waste of resources.
A waste of air.
By the time Grot had finished escorting Yoan to the transport shuttle, he had already returned to the lab, eager to assist Qin Mo.
Qin Mo gestured toward a compact, metallic backpack resting on a servo-stabilized workbench.
"Put this on him."
Without hesitation, Grot grabbed the pack and stepped into the holding cell.
The prisoner, terrified and compliant, offered no resistance.
Silent. Resigned.
He slipped the device onto his back without question.
As Grot exited, the prisoner even shut the cell door behind him.
A sign of fatalistic acceptance.
Like a man boarding his own coffin.
Grot squinted at the device.
"Is that a grav-pack?"
Qin Mo shook his head.
"No. It's a safeguard unit. An anchor."
He placed his palm against the control panel, and the transmission device whirred to life.
"The pack contains a locator beacon, a quantum-linked soul tether, and a low-yield phase shield generator. Think of it as a leash for reality. It ensures he will be transmitted mostly intact—"
Qin Mo's eyes flicked toward Grot.
"—and that he actually arrives."
Grot grimaced, watching the prisoner shift uneasily in his cell.
"Sounds like complicated mag-tech."
Qin Mo ignored him.
He turned to the dimensional transmission device, a two-meter cube of ceramite and void-hardened alloys, its metallic surface etched with archaic energy conduits that shimmered with unnatural light.
As he raised his hand, thick, snake-like power cables uncoiled from the chamber walls, slithering across the floor before locking into the machine with a mechanical hiss and a sharp pressurized seal.
"First test, begin."
He activated the machine.
....
Qin Mo placed his hand upon the machine, channeling his will into its systems.
A high-pitched hum filled the chamber as its energy signature spiked. A faint ripple distorted the air around the cube, like heat haze warped by unnatural geometry.
Calculations ran through the machine's logic-engine at speeds incomprehensible to the human mind.
Grot's eyes locked onto the prisoner.
The man's body began to distort, his outline warping unnaturally, flickering like a corrupted vid-feed.
"SKAAAA∼!!!"
A bone-chilling scream tore from his throat.
The safeguard pack activated, releasing a stabilization pulse of phased energy.
Above the prisoner's convulsing form, a ghostly, flickering humanoid silhouette emerged, semi-transparent and writhing in agony.
Struggling. Reaching. Desperate.
The wraith-like entity clawed at its own body, trying to latch back onto itself.
Yet it could not.
But at the same time it was not fully torn away.
It remained anchored, held in place by the pack's energy field, its form flickering like a spirit caught in a stuttering stasis, unable to fully sever, yet unable to fully return.
Grot took a step back.
"That… that thing… is his soul?"
Qin Mo observed the phenomenon with cold detachment.
"The pack isn't working," Grot muttered.
"It's working, just not perfectly," Qin Mo corrected.
He studied the soul tether for another two seconds, then raised his hand.
The pack's internal systems spiked into full power.
A translucent barrier enveloped the prisoner, encapsulating both his body and his soul.
Then he vanished.
A heartbeat later, he reappeared inside the opposite cell.
The barrier dissipated. His soul re-fused with his body.
He collapsed to the floor, gasping in agony.
....
"You're not planning to use this thing to escape the Underhive, are you?" Grot asked, his voice wary.
Qin Mo didn't hesitate.
"Of course."
To him, it was obvious.
"This is only the first step. Eventually, we will use this to traverse the void, jumping between star systems."
Grot paled, glancing at the prisoner, still shuddering on the floor.
To him, this machine felt less like an escape tool, and more like a torture device designed by a god who had forgotten compassion.
"If the safeguards are fully active before the transmission begins, he wouldn't have felt any pain." Qin Mo explained.
He approached the cell, studying the prisoner's trembling form.
"What did you see?"
The man struggled to form words.
"I… I saw… lines. Glowing lines stretching forever."
His breathing was ragged.
"Then… everything turned transparent."
He swallowed dryly.
"After that, I saw… things… but at the same time, it felt like I saw… nothing at all."
Qin Mo listened intently.
Then, he reached a simple conclusion.
The prisoner had passed through the interstice between dimensions, an unreal place, a null-zone existing one breath away from reality.
However as a mere human, his senses were too feeble to comprehend it.
It didn't matter.
Because the transmission worked.
....
"You got lucky," Qin Mo said, amused. "I thought you'd materialize inside the wall."
"What?!"
The prisoner's face drained of color.
Only now did he fully grasp how close he had been to death.
Qin Mo turned away, deep in thought.
Dimensional transmission was fundamentally simple.
A rift is opened.
The subject is pushed through.
The rift closes.
There is no folding of space, no traveling through distance. The subject ceases to be here and becomes there. An event, not a journey.
If the material universe was a chessboard, then normally, a piece had to move one square at a time.
Dimensional transmission?
It allowed someone to pick up the piece and place it wherever they wanted.
The machine's intelligence performed vast calculations, ensuring positional accuracy.
But if there was no locator beacon at the destination, accuracy would inevitably degrade.
A few meters off-course?
No issue for a warship.
But for a human?
A few meters could mean materializing inside a wall.
Or worse, fusing with debris.
The answer?
Allow the AI to calculate for a longer duration, increasing precision.
Once one person successfully arrived at the destination, they could plant a beacon, ensuring future transmissions had near-zero deviation.
Qin Mo nodded to himself.
The theory was sound.
....
The lab doors slammed open.
"New Kato just lost power! We're investigating!"
Klein burst into the room, his voice urgent.
Qin Mo barely glanced at him.
"I drained the power grid for this experiment."
Klein froze.
"You what?"
Qin Mo didn't bother explaining.
Dimensional transmission required vast amounts of energy.
This test had proven it.
New Kato had blacked out.
And the prisoner had barely moved a hundred meters.
"Did it work?" Klein asked hesitantly.
His nerves were on edge.
If Qin Mo said no—
"Yes. It worked."
Klein exhaled in relief.
"Then… does this mean we can finally leave the Underhive?"
"Of course."
Qin Mo turned to his assistant.
"In five days, once I've mass-produced the safeguard packs, we'll be able to move freely in and out."
Klein was elated.
After months trapped below, he could finally return home, to see his family again.
"Mobilize all military forces in three days."
Klein's stomach dropped.
"What? Why? The heretics are dead!"
Qin Mo's voice remained calm.
"The heretics are dead. But the ones who betrayed us… still live. I have no intention of starting a war. But if someone tries to stop us when we leave the Underhive… we will be ready."
Klein swallowed hard.
"Understood…"