SIM can reproduce knowledge in a fake world. Realistic, yes, but nevertheless fake. Sphinx greatly emphasized the latter.

“You, me, and everything else simply exists in this bubble like specks of dust moving with a current. But we are here, and there, at the same time. It’s the very pinnacle of connecting the mind with the physical,” Sphinx relaxed under Nympha’s chokehold.

“But the copies can never be reproduced in the physical world unlike knowledge, which can be exchanged both ways. Nevertheless, I never expected Lark to be capable of achieving soul link so soon.”

“Soul link?” Nympha asked in a strange intonation. It was the first memory she had established since entering this world; words that appeared on a screen in front of her. She could feel her presence in a soul form, split from her physical body which was still left in Celestia, obviously similar to how she wandered through the Palace of Memories except not completely. Comparing this to then, her body was somehow renewed or reissued and she could not fully exert herself.

After connecting to Lark through their Familiarship, she realized Sphinx was not so easy to handle after all. From the beginning, she understood Lark’s guardian enabled them to enter the Palace of Memories. It was inconceivable at the time that there was another method of channeling without the user having enormous spiritual powers—yet it wasn’t.

“Master Nympha,” Sphinx drew on a smirk. “You should realize this place isn’t entirely what it seems. Energy forms, breaks, and retraces. That’s why until Lark can handle the amount of energy inside SIM, there are restrictions in place.”

So, there were restrictions placed on her. She let go of his throat and coldly spoke, “Anyone that can place restrictions inside a barrier is definitely somebody who's traveled to the Upperlands.”

Sphinx nodded. “Hmm. Yes, I suppose Pantheon has been called the Upperlands or Upperworld before.”

“Then you should know what happened to my goddess?” Nympha returned to her mouse form. “There’s been no contact with the Upperlands since the Centifire plagues.”

“I’m in the same boat as they say here on Earth—I’ll tell you what I remember though, which is not so different from what I already told Lark…” Sphinx recounted the time he was discovered by Lark’s father in the Sierra desert. “Lark doesn’t know the story before the apocalypse. You're the first I'll be telling it to, my true origin and purpose.”

Sphinx's eyes locked onto nowhere in particular as he talked, his focus trapped between the past and present. “I was locked inside the pyramid for the sole reason of saving the Immortals’ inheritance.”

“You mean all their cultivation techniques and skills were saved?” Upon hearing this, Nympha transformed into a puffer-fish.

He shook his head, indicating her idea was wrong and waited for her to deflate before continuing.

“My one creator’s legacy was that he was known as the Librarian. Maybe you’ve figured out already, but one of SIM’s prized functions is scanning—a highly advanced appraisal skill—this skill was created out his thirst to create the universe’s largest library. He also designed a sandbox-like world, within it, he was capable of anything. I was the last to be created and shortly locked after since the real world was coming to an abrupt end. A lonely god, I’m sure he was.”

“To answer your question, I’m not sure of any other Immortals like your Goddess. I only know of my creator’s soul and will. He wasn’t the type to play with others.”

Sphinx hesitated before revealing another dark clue.

“One piece of the puzzle, I haven’t figured yet, is Lark’s Trinity Watch. Without a living accessory, there’d be no way for him to access SIM, which to me must mean… there’s an Immortal living on Earth. Maybe they'd know what has happened to Pantheon.”

While waiting on Nympha’s slow return, Lark had printed out numerous other items including Wangshi’s jian, the love tassel, Salene’s pair of short swords, Henry’s grimoire and staff, Rhea’s battle-axe and shield, Silvina’s broadsword, Dula’s battle quill, and Jaime’s wand. A small success really. He had really wanted to print Dula’s robe and Huan’s Quilin Fan, however, those options had failed. Also, he’d learned he couldn’t reproduce their skills such as Dula’s golemancer. COSMO simply interjected ‘no’ after three various wording attempts. There was also no way for him to summon other people’s pets (without their permission COSMO added in.)

He tried lifting Rhea’s shield. Upon realizing it was heavier than a pile of bricks, he let go of the idea of using it. The battle-axe never registered. Dula’s battle quill only worked as a pen. He couldn’t get it to work in the same way as Dula had done, writing in mid-air or summoning a golem with it.

“No golems,” COSMO repeated.

Similarly, Henry’s staff and Jaime’s wand didn’t react either after some more attempts to conjure magic. He must’ve pronounced the spells wrong or maybe there was a lack of rhyming. There was also the issue of him knowing zero magic as a prime factor.

Oblivious to COSMO’s sighing, Lark decided to not try using magic against the Cursed Human after realizing all the scripts in Henry’s grimoire were unreadable and untranslatable.

Next were the swords. At this age, Lark never once thought about becoming a swordsman, but in the depths of his heart, this was actually something he’d been waiting to try since his caretaker’s fight. Wangshi, Salene, and Silvina’s weapons were in pristine condition; durability maxed out and debris-free. Looking at the twin short swords, however, Lark felt a reluctance to use them. Salene almost lost her match due to her swords breaking on impact, clearly, the monster had overpowered their abilities. The jian was the only sword he had some prior experience with. It's lightweight, therefore easy to carry and swing, probably the easiest sword for him to use here.

If only this was a ‘the weapon chooses the master type kind of deal,’ he’d have a less difficult time picking. When he shifted his position towards the broadsword, something inside him told him to reach for it. He picked up the hilt, his heartbeat quickening the same way he would react to making a goal, and whilst admiring the rugged, black grip, the blade’s spine shivered. Or maybe, it was his spine shivering, because it made no such movement again after he swung it up and down. Unlike the other swords, which were straight and aligned with the hilt, the broadsword had a swelled tip similar in structure to a scimitar. Also, the longest sword out of the four and carried its weight more to one side, revealing its unbalanced design. Lark frowned, hinting a sign of disappointment with the sword’s craft.

He referred again to the item’s scan.

“Item: Broadsword (weapon)(magic)(uncommon)

+40 INT +30 MG

+25% Magic Attack, +Bonus Fire damage

Durability 70/70

Graded as a rank C magic weapon.

3 lbs.

Craft materials: silver ores, soulsteel, and red power crystals.

Crafted by Fergusdam

Obtained through blackmailing.

Gifted to Silvina Wheatley ‘forcefully.’”

The redhead’s got a real temper and personality to match. His ears overheated as he held down a chuckle. Then his neck tingled. Not in the good, ‘oh what a nice, passing breeze on a hot summer’s day,’ kind of sensation, but a prickly cactus tingle climbing up his neck.

Using Gushi’s perception skill, he sensed changes happening all too fast within the Cursed Human’s body. Blood mist spread from its eyes and it's already engorged veins doubled in size. Instead of walking like a bi-pedal human, it crouched on all fours and slid across the concrete as if it were a spider on ice. No longer patrolling the cafeteria’s windows, it went down the pavement used for wheelchairs.

“I know. I know!” Lark whispered harshly to Gushi, who was beginning to pull his hair by the roots. He didn't know what had caused this sudden change or if it had seen them, but they retreated towards the library. Lark scooped up the remaining swords inside his spatial ring when the monster released a gurgling roar. All the hairs on his arms raised. It was in the air, blood mist and all, gaping with its eyes torn out of its sockets before landing again on its feet. The arms acted as its forelegs as it rolled on the ground like a beetle and hastened towards them.

A paralyzing fear bit at Lark’s ankle as he twisted to get back. It still slid, growing closer, and every bone in its body crunched in a way that told Lark, it was worse than snapped tendons.

Gushi let go his head and bounced up, prepared to attack, while Lark clenched the back of his teeth. “Here goes nothing.”