More importantly, though, it didnât rely on navigators, the webway, or any other warp-adjacent technologies, and would allow the complete quarantining of the warp without risking the loss of interstellar travel. It was instantaneous, perfectly accurate, simple to set up, and required little power to function. It was something that no human could truly comprehend, much less have developed on their own. No, to truly achieve independence from the warp, to sever it from reality entirely, a new method of reliable faster than light travel would have to be developed, and in this you had been successful. You had fallen short of success on that front, but it was not the only focus of your research.
#Set me gitfinder to panzee crack#
Great pylons of black stone and green glyphs that held back the Immaterium proved the concept, and centuries of extensive research in this facility were spent trying to crack their secrets, but they proved⦠difficult to understand, much less replicate. There was a solution, though, just out of reach. Worse, itâs corrupting influence could seep in through the gaps in reality, slowly corrupting all it touched, mind and substance alike. Deadly trips through a plane of reality that rejected not just the familiar laws of physics, but in fact any law at all, were a mitigating factor in humanityâs otherwise explosive growth throughout the galaxy. The very method of travel between the stars was inimical. Humanity had reached out to the stars long ago, and while theyâd achieved more than theyâd hoped, they found reality to be less welcoming than it had been in their dreams. If you were to remember anything, it would be critical that you remember the work. Itâs encrypted, and alien, but someone, possibly even you yourself, thought it was worth abandoning your memories for. The data that isnât corrupted has been long since overwritten.There are enough scraps there that youâll be able to return yourself to functionality, but your past has been forcibly and intentionally erased, and replaced by something new. They probably engineered you to feel that way, but nevertheless you remember it all in detail. It was to be humanityâs greatest work, and you were proud to be a part of it. You were human once, werenât you, before all this? A soul preserved in a machine, or perhaps just the mind? The memories are faint, but they gave you strength, and an empathy no computer could ever emulate. From the top, now: What is it that you remember? You need your memories back, then you can act, and resolve the issue that has forced you back to consciousness. Right now, youâre nothing more than a floating consciousness, hovering in a vacuum. Unindexed, is the word that springs to mind. You try to recall more, but itâs fuzzy, difficult to recall.
You are an AI, tasked by your creators to oversee this facility. A pressure youâd only just become aware of is lifted, and your memories rush back in as you unfold into this new space. Youâre not sure what, but you begin to unfold, like origami. You manage to hold onto your thoughts for a few moments, and a few facts coalesce: You are underground. Are you supposed to do something? You donât remember. You donât remember what youâre supposed to do. The instant a thought forms it passes and is forgotten, discarded. Itâs immediate - a stream of consciousness that passes through your mind like a sieve, like pages in a book being flicked by too fast to remember. 5060042 Suddenly, you exist, and perceive.
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