booktalesy Chapter 145 The Tower of Babel, Level 3
Chapter 145 The Tower of Babel, Level 3
Chapter 144 The Third Level of the Tower of Babel
Half an hour later, all the spoils of war were sealed in the Frostwolf City warehouse.
The crowd gathered atop the Tower of Babel, and Ohm restarted the metal elevator platform leading to the third level of the Tower of Babel.
The old gears meshed with a deep, resonant sound, the iron chains tightened inch by inch, and the platform rose accordingly.
Lorraine stood at the very front.
Anna, Catherine, Olivia, Lyra, Ohm, and Victor have all arrived.
Several mech pilots stood guard at the edge, waiting for the elevator to come to a complete stop before continuing to clear the way.
A chill rose from the depths of the well, mixed with the smell of metal and machine oil.
Olivia leaned on the railing, looking down at the increasingly distant lower level, and suddenly smiled.
"Look at us now, doesn't it remind you of the first time we climbed the Tower of Babel?"
Olivia's gaze was somewhat unfocused. "Back then, in the snowfield, everyone was half-frozen, monsters were chasing after us, and we were almost out of food. When the Tower of Babel took those four legs and stepped across the snow, I thought I was dreaming."
"Back then, I was just a brain," Ohm added, his tone devoid of self-pity but rather tinged with a hint of smugness, "a lonely brain soaking in nutrient solution."
Olivia was amused by her tone and laughed out loud, but as she laughed, her eyes reddened slightly.
"It's different now." She took a deep breath. "Back then it was about survival, this time—"
'
"This time it was a complete victory."
Anna calmly took over the conversation, smoothing her hair that was draped over her shoulders with her fingertips, and a slight smile played on her lips.
"We have defeated winter!"
Victor chuckled quietly.
The lifting platform slowly started beneath everyone's feet, and the sound of metal gears meshing came from all directions.
The platform rose rapidly, the surrounding walls receding quickly, and rusty pipes and cables flashing by.
The platform stopped very quickly.
The scene before me was completely different from the two floors below.
Rusty Frontier is a rugged mining area, Titan Forge is a heavy industrial jungle, and the third layer—the commercial and residential layer—is a city forgotten by time.
The wide streets extend to both sides, lined with densely packed buildings.
Some of them resembled shops, with metal roller shutters half-open and half-closed, and the interiors were empty.
Some of them resembled residential buildings, with faded curtains still hanging on the windows, which would crumble into dust and fall in a flurry when the wind blew.
Above us was a huge domed ceiling, inlaid with countless lighting panels, most of which were already off, with only a few emitting a dim, yellowish glow, like dying fireflies.
Everything is weathering away.
The coating on the wall peeled off piece by piece, revealing the gray-white metal skeleton underneath.
The paving bricks on the ground were broken, and nothing could grow in the gaps—there was no soil, no sunlight, nothing at all.
There was a small fountain plaza on the street corner. The fountain pool had long since dried up, and the bottom was covered with dust and debris. Several lampposts stood beside the plaza, their lampshades hanging crookedly, teetering on the verge of collapse.
It was eerily quiet.
Ohm walked beside Lorraine, slowing his pace.
Ohm was walking in the middle of the group when he suddenly slowed down.
She stopped in front of a two-story building, looking up at the blurred signboard above the door. It had probably once been a bakery; the window was shattered, and the display shelves inside lay crookedly over the counter.
"Here—" Ohm's voice was very soft, as if he was afraid of disturbing something, "There used to be a long line every morning."
Anna stopped and looked back at her.
Ohm's gaze shifted from the bakery to the larger building across the street, where a faded GG painting of a smiling woman holding something remained on the exterior wall, the paint peeling away to leave only the outline.
"That's a clothing store. Next to it is a pharmacy. And further on—" She pointed to a collapsed ruin in the distance, her voice lowering, "that's a school."
Ohm withdrew his hand, his fingertips curling slightly.
Her new body was far more sensitive than the lonely brain in the life support tank; when those memories from thousands of years ago replayed in her mind, an inexplicable dull pain would rise in her chest.
"Three hundred and five thousand three hundred and eighty-one people," Ohm said softly. "The number of residents last registered in these levels of the Tower of Babel. I remember everyone's name, address, and occupation."
She lowered her eyes.
"Now there are none left."
The wind howled as it rushed in through a broken vent, stirring up a thin layer of dust.
Lorraine stopped in her tracks.
The people behind her stood quietly. Anna lowered her eyes, Olivia sighed silently, and Lyra clenched her fists.
Lorraine turned to look at Ohm.
"ohm."
"Um?"
"Do you remember the first serious thing you said to me when we first met?"
Ohm paused for a moment, then slowly nodded.
Without waiting for her answer, Lorraine went straight to the point: "You said—no matter how eras change, no matter how the world collapses, humanity will always be the primate that created all things."
Ohm's lips moved.
That was just wishful thinking on my part.
'
"That's the truth." Lorraine's tone was not harsh, but steady. "As long as humans exist, there will still be people selling bread on this street. There will be loud-voiced proprietresses, and there will still be people queuing up."
He pointed to the extinguished lights above his head.
"The lights will come back on."
Ohm stared at him blankly.
"Yesterday's glory will return." Lorraine withdrew her hand and started walking again. "History is a spiral staircase, but it will not spiral forever."
One day, the moment of upheaval will be completely ended, and humanity will once again stand on the earth.
He didn't turn around. His voice came from ahead, very calm, as if he were talking about something very ordinary.
"By then, shops will be open, and people will be lining up to buy bread."
He paused.
"So don't look at these ruins with that expression. They're just asleep for now."
Ohm stood there, his throat tightening.
After a long pause, she nodded vigorously and jogged a few steps to catch up.
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The door to the control room slowly opened in front of everyone.
Unlike the last time I came, all the lights here have been restored.
Bright blue-white light poured down from the dome, illuminating the entire circular space. Screens on the circular control console lit up one after another, displaying a dense stream of data.
In the very center of the room was that huge spherical life support tank.
The tank is transparent, and most of the nutrient solution inside has been drained, exposing the intricate network of pipes at the bottom.
A human brain floats quietly in the remaining liquid, its surface wrinkles glowing faintly with bioluminescence under the light—that is the Messiah's true form.
The air in front of the life support tank was slightly distorted, and light particles condensed and took shape.
A holographic projection of the Messiah appeared.
She looks about 70% like Ohm, but her temperament is completely different.
Ohm is clear and bright with a childlike quality, while Messiah's brows are always shrouded in a thin layer of melancholy, as if he is carrying too much that should not be borne by one person alone.
Her gaze swept over the crowd and landed on Lorraine.
That gaze was complex.
There was scrutiny, vigilance, and lingering hostility, but more than anything, there was a tentative, almost fragile expectation.
Messiah did not look at Lorraine first.
Her gaze first fell on Ohm.
I looked at it very carefully, from head to toe, for a long time.
Ohm stood beside Lorraine, wearing the dark blue dress that Olivia had altered for her, her hair tied up with a simple ribbon, and her cheeks flushed with health.
She's very different from the witch who had just regained her human form when we last met.
More hydrated, more youthful.
She even gained a little weight.
Messiah's throat bobbed slightly.
She walked slowly toward Lorraine.
The projected footsteps were silent, but each step was slow, as if measuring something.
Finally, she stopped two steps away from Lorraine.
"Lorraine".
Her voice was deliberately lowered and steady.
Lorraine looked at her and waited.
Messiah lowered his head slightly.
The movement was very light, but for a being that had guarded the Tower of Babel for thousands of years and endured the erosion of the abyss and endless loneliness, the weight of this bow was astonishing.
"Thank you."
Lorraine was taken aback, thinking that Messiah was thanking him for helping her restore her physical body.
"Don't rush to thank me," he said, raising his hand to rub his temples. "The witch awakening ritual is risky. Even I can't guarantee success every time."
He paused, his tone becoming more serious.
"The magic circle and ritual are merely auxiliary; the most crucial element is the witch herself. Whether she can withstand the backlash of awakening depends on her belief and will. No one can do that for her."
Messiah smiled softly.
The smile was so faint it was almost invisible, but the curve of the corners of the mouth was genuine.
"Even if this ceremony fails—" she said softly, "I still want to thank you."
Lorraine frowned slightly.
"You've shown me the possibility of a renewed revival of human civilization." Messiah's gaze shifted to Ohm, then back to Lorraine. "You know what? You remind me of someone."
There was a moment of silence in the control room.
"That Emperor Bian, who sits on the golden throne."
"Emperor Bian?"
When the word came out of Messiah's mouth, the air in the control room seemed to freeze for a moment.
Anna's brow twitched almost imperceptibly, and Victor's fingers unconsciously rested on the hilt of his sword—not out of tension, but out of an instinctive solemnity.
Messiah ignored the crowd's reactions and continued speaking.
"He sits on the ninth floor of the Tower of Babel. Not the ruined Tower of Babel beneath our feet, but—the one that was once whole."
Her projection slowly turned and walked towards the circular control unit.
A huge holographic screen lit up at the touch of her fingertips, but instead of displaying data, it showed a picture.
To be precise, it is a fragmented video record.
The image was extremely blurry, as if viewed through several layers of frosted glass, but one could vaguely discern a massive silhouette and a human figure sitting on some kind of giant metal chair.
The armrests of the chair were covered with dense patterns, and the whole scene was shrouded in a dazzling golden light, making it impossible to see the person's face.
The image lasted for less than three seconds before shattering into a screen full of static.
Messiah withdrew his hand.
"This is the only image of him that I have in my archive."
Her voice was calm, but Lorraine could hear the deep awe beneath it. "At the end of the Golden Age, Emperor Bian gathered twenty ninth-rank professionals, attempting to finish the job in one fell swoop and completely end the moment of upheaval."
"Twenty ninth-ranked individuals," Victor murmured, repeating the number, his voice slightly hoarse.
He is a fourth-order rank.
He spent most of his life rising from an unknown commoner to this position, enduring countless reincarnations. The ninth rank was a height he never even dared to dream of.
Twenty such beings.
Messiah seemed to read his mind and said calmly, "Legend has it that gathering twenty ninth-tier professionals can completely defeat the Moment of Change. Emperor Bian almost succeeded."
"Almost?" Lorraine caught the word.
Messiah's expression did not change, but she remained silent for two seconds before continuing to speak; those two seconds of silence were heavier than any words.
"Half of the ninth-tier professionals have betrayed Emperor Bian."
The control room was unusually quiet.
"They fell into the moment of transformation and became monsters."
Ohm clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms.
She understood the weight of that history better than anyone else present—though she didn't remember the details, the fragmented fears and yearnings left behind when the data of the Abyss Death Eclipse flooded her mind still occasionally startled her awake at midnight.
"So Emperor Bian failed." Lorraine's voice was very soft.
"It wasn't a complete failure." Messiah shook his head. "He used his own body to suppress the breach in the abyss. He's still alive, sitting on the golden throne of the ninth level, but—he can't move anymore."
She paused for a moment.
"That throne was not his crown, but his prison."
Lorraine didn't speak, but his eyes changed.
He wasn't shocked; given his understanding of the world, even the most outrageous truths were unlikely to truly surprise him.
His expression seemed to suggest he was digesting, calculating, and integrating this mercury information into the vast puzzle in his mind.
"Wait a minute." He spoke slowly, but each word was clear. "You said the ninth floor."
Messiah nodded.
"The Tower of Babel has nine levels?"
"Yes."
Victor subconsciously looked up at the ceiling curtain, as if trying to see through the heavy metal dome to confirm how many layers were above him.
"Ohm and I only manage four of the floors."
The Messiah's voice was as calm as if he were stating the weather: "The first layer is the rusted edge, the second is the Titan's furnace, the third is the commercial and residential area, and the fourth is the research area."
"What about the remaining five floors?" Lyra couldn't help but ask.
The Messiah was silent for a moment.
"It's lost."
These two words sound light and airy, but they carry a weight heavier than a heavy weight in everyone's ears.
"The war of the past was too brutal, and the Void Oath itself was torn apart. Those five layers—after they broke, no one knows where they drifted away to in another Void Oath."
Messiah's gaze fell upon the metal curtain beneath her feet. "Perhaps it's still intact, or perhaps it has long been swallowed by the abyss. I don't know."
Lorraine unconsciously tapped her thigh with her finger.
Nine floors.
Only four floors remain.
The Emperor is on the ninth floor.
These thoughts raced through his mind, but he didn't rush to ask any more questions.
Now is not the time to delve into history.
His gaze returned to Messiah.
"So the gratitude you expressed wasn't because of the awakening ceremony."
Messiah slightly raised his head and looked into his eyes.
Not entirely.
She slowly walked back to Ohm's side and looked at her sister. Ohm looked back at her, his eyes red and his lips tightly pressed together.
"I've been guarding her for several years."
Messiah's voice was very soft, almost inaudible, "From when she was still a complete brain, to when she slowly began to forget, began to be afraid, began to call my name again and again in the long darkness. I couldn't do anything."
Her projection reached out, trying to touch Ohm's face.
The finger passed through Ohm's cheek; the projection had no physical form.
The Messiah lowered his hands.
"But you did it." She looked at Lorraine. "You gave her a body, you gave her taste and touch, you gave her tears and smiles. You even—"
Her gaze lingered for a moment on Ohm's slightly puffed-out cheeks.
"I fattened her up."
Ohm's face turned an ugly red: "Sister!"
The Messiah smiled.
The smile was brief, but everyone present saw it, including Lorraine.
"That's why I want to thank you." Messiah's smile faded, and he looked back at Lorraine, his tone calm. "It has nothing to do with whether the ritual succeeds or not."
Lorraine didn't reply, she just nodded.
Then he turned to face the console.
"Alright, enough with the reminiscing."
His voice regained its usual crispness, and his fingers swept across the control panel, bringing up a set of empty structure diagrams.
The holographic projection unfolded in mid-air, revealing the complete layout of the third-floor control room—including the magic nodes beneath the floor curtain, the energy pipelines on the walls, and the complex interfaces at the bottom of the life support tank.
"Messiah, your rituals are more complex than Ohm's."
Lorraine's gaze moved quickly across the structural diagram. "Ohm's is a pure reshaping, but you are different. Your soul has been corrupted too severely by the abyss data. Even if most of the filth is removed, the remaining impurities will still interfere with the stability of the source material when constructing the body."
Messiah's expression calmed down. "What do you need me to do?"
"Don't rush," Lorraine said without turning her head. "Let me finish drawing the magic circle."
He took out a carving knife and several pre-treated magic pattern plates from his pocket, squatted down, and began to carve magic circle lines on the ground around the life support tank.
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