There was something more to this crash– a feeder. It was a simple component of the whole of the Mana neural network that supplied or delivered Mana from the source to the process points, or here, to the nodes.
"Of course, there are feeders," I grumbled, my non-existent heart thumping with genuine anxiety this time. "Why would it be so easy?"
Pressing my temples or performing the same action, I shook my head. Three strikes, and there was only one attempt left.
Losing here would revoke not only the guest privileges I have, but also the chance to earn precious resources.
I know very well that gaining CU and EP would be immensely more difficult without the guest access and the quests of the dungeon.
We weren't just talking about coins but also the very essence of creation for a dungeon architect. Even if I want to try and test other things with my skills, I won't be able to do anything if I don't have the raw materials to activate the skill.
[ "The Assistance system suggests an adaptive rewrite. Synthesize the pathway structure with the integration of Mana-language and logical constructs. Decentralise your bias." ]
'So are you telling me to think logically without my previous world bias? Ha. If you know how to do this, why not just do it for me?'
If the skill were capable of doing things directly, it would have done so already. It's not called an 'assistance' system for nothing, alright?
The system was still giving me valuable hints. The answer was around me… this wasn't my previous world.
Even though many things are similar to what I already know, the Mana pathways are not internet constructs.
Mana is an energy and not just data. I have to think. I must think…
'The first two attempts failed because I was careless and my vision was limited.'
Seeing the problem with my own bias is the problem. So, I have to be logical here.
Since earlier, I had been hearing a certain hum from each of the Mana pathways before me. I had not paid much attention to them until now, but now that I think about it, each of these hums had a unique frequency.
String theory came to mind: the building blocks of the universe aren't zero-dimensional points but instead, one-dimensional vibrating strings.
The vibrations around the nodes, the tangled channels, and the rest of the area around this part of the dungeon were indisharmony.
When I visualised how these vibrations would be affected when I connect different nodes in a certain pattern, I felt the unique disharmony that arose from the wrong answers.
In addition to the code, the magic was also the frequencies of the world. The incantations and the prayers of the priests weren't just empty words… they carried meaning, and here, the vibrations contained the answer.
'The dungeon had been giving me hints from the beginning.'
As the system said, I was just too biased towards my own knowledge to see it.
"Arrogance will bring your downfall, Aria. Be humble, learn more, learn well."
I took a deep breath, or, once again, acted like I was doing so. The spectral form wasn't something I was going to get used to anytime soon.
Unlike the previous attempts, in addition to the visualisation and mental processing, I infused the entire code I was imagining into a blank frequency. For original chapters go to N0velFire.ɴet
The frequency was just a beat before, but it turned into a tone that harmonised with the Mana pathways that it was going to get attached to.
But I did not hurry. The frequency, dancing in the form of a glowing string of energy, stayed floating before me.
One by one, I coded the different frequencies with my will and, while extremely exhausting, a smile stayed stuck on my face.
I visualized a function stabilize(node) that would normalize flux to local average, relink(nodeA,nodeB) to balance load, and a quarantine(temp) to isolate disruptive resonance.
As the strings of Mana resonating at different frequencies piled up, my phantom heart paced with a spark of anxiety.
I did not quite know if this was the answer that would solve this problem, but, at this moment, I was at least certain that this answer would solve the tangled mess before me.
I arranged them in their place, different tones that, the moment they connected with their respective parts, harmonised with the overall rhythm and untangled the pathway mess.
As all the strings were in place, the world around me slowed like a server finally catching up.
Threads slid, the channels obedient to their instructions.
The containment lattice I had built earlier remained still, but it wasn't just a skeleton; it was a living scaffolding, adaptive instead of rigid.
The feeder that had triggered my second failure initiated a handshake with my patch, syncing with my answer with a handshake rather than brute forcing its way through it.
The code negotiated a graceful backoff in places where sparks had once flown, resulting in an overall harmony that had seemed impossible before the tangled mess.
The blue lights began to pulse in a melodious tone; the skipped beats that were caused by the tangled mess were now part of the sturdy rhythm.
Like a faulty clock had been repaired, everything around me started feeling right… the mess was gone, and gone was the anxiety I had a moment ago.
[You have stabilised the tangled Mana channel.]
[The dungeon has acknowledged your abilities. Guest privileges will remain intact.]
[The dungeon's Guest task has been completed. The rewards have been added to your Status.]
[You have obtained: CU (+50), EP (+30), Coins (+10,000).]
[You have earned: Architect EXP (+30).]
I felt something like warmth leak into my chest– not physical, but something more abstract. I almost felt like the ping from the completed deployment had popped up deep inside my soul.
[ "Congratulations, owner. You have completed the first dungeon task." ]
My system sis spoke up once again, with pride in that previously disappointed voice.
"Hell yeah," I screamed, laughing my lungs out in no one in particular.
I had never gotten this excited about a bug fix in my life… ok, if you take the slap to that bitch of a senior as a bug fix, then that was that.
But this. I had never felt this kind of accomplishment, even after finishing that final project in my previous world.
The green reward screen before me shimmered like jade. On my blue status window, right beside it, the increased numbers seemed unbelievable.
I was around 6000 coins poor after coming to this city, but now I'm suddenly 10,000 coins richer. People would spend months inside the dungeons to earn this kind of sum, but here I was, getting the unbelievable reward even before I had walked a step inside the dungeon.
[ "Architect-guest interactions are mutually beneficial. You harvest unique dungeon resources while the dungeon records and adept patterns based on your interventions. Rewards and the diverse interactions increase both core evolution and your architectural rank." ]
[ "Each dungeon task gets increasingly more difficult. The dungeon tests the limits of the guests, and it produces answers, interpretations, and new learnings from the responses of the guest architects." ]
[ "It is uncertain when you will get the next task; however, until you keep completing the guest tasks, you will retain your guest privileges within the dungeons." ]
This world needed people like me to close the feedback loops, while we needed dungeons to turn raw opportunities into usable currency.
Practically, the first dungeon quest has been completed, and the next one will take time to be processed.
If the most basic of the basics was this difficult, I don't even know how much worse the next task would be.
I must learn more, get stronger, and, before I do that, I must finish the final part of the association's test.
"Shall we go back to reality, dear System sister?"
[ "Do you want to exit the Guest Spectral form? Please think about returning to your body to return to the physical world." ]
As a dungeon architect, this was an amazing experience in itself. But, as Aria of a different world, this was also the first test question— One that I almost failed to answer.
'Things would have been pretty difficult had I failed.'
But I should thank the assistance system. Without her, I might not have been able to do anything after entering that ghost form.
I know for sure she's more than just a special skill. She saved me in the forest, and she has been helping me ever since I came to this world.
Plus, she knows how to speak.
'Calling her system sis or something like that now seems inappropriate.'
I should call her something else.
A name that's fitting for my savior.
'Hmm… what would be a good, simple name?'