Chapter 13 – The Layers of Eternity
The project that would redefine Three Burning Eye began not with ceremony, but with calculation.
Blueprints were drawn in silence, formulas danced across the air in threads of gold, and HIME's voice filled the great hall of Aeternum Sanctum like a hymn whispered by the machine gods themselves.
HIME: "Initialization of Sanctum Ascension Project, Phase One — confirmed."
Traveler_R: "Proceed. Begin with Helheim."
The crystalline map before us flared to life. Nine layers of the Sanctum stacked upon each other like an inverted tower, suspended in the luminous void. Each tier pulsed faintly with energy, awaiting its new purpose.
Every floor had two destinies: Defense and Sustainability.
And every design decision would shape whether this fortress would survive centuries or collapse under its own brilliance.
1. Helheim – The Abyssal Gate
The lowest level, the entrance point of the Sanctum.
An endless cavern of black ice and skeletal remains, where the air shimmered with frost that devoured light.
This was where invaders would first appear — if they ever found a way inside.
Two NPCs were created here, each with potential levels reaching 100: both Undead.
One, a silent Wight Commander, cloaked in ice-blue armor, designed to command entire armies of lesser undead.
The other, a Soul Reaper — a phantom executioner who could erase respawn timers from fallen intruders, denying them resurrection within the same session.
For sustainability, a hidden mechanism lay buried deep beneath the frozen lake — a Mana Extractor disguised as an ancient tomb.
Guarded by illusionary traps and walls of ice, it harvested raw mana residue from the surrounding space, converting it into energy cores that powered the fortress's lower systems.
HIME: "Helheim defense ratio calculated at 94%. Sustain node secure."
Traveler_R: "Good. Next."
2. Niflheim – The Frost of Silence
An expanse of mist and biting winds.
The second level served as the buffer zone — the false calm after Helheim's brutality.
Its two defenders were elementals born of ice storms, each bound by runic chains that allowed them to reconstruct their bodies endlessly unless their cores were destroyed simultaneously.
Their names were simple — Blanc and Neve.
The sustainability function here was disguised as an environmental anomaly — a fog that perpetually drifted across the level.
Within the mist floated Cryo Cores, crystals that collected atmospheric mana, slowly refueling the Sanctum's defensive systems without ever revealing their purpose.
3. Muspelheim – The Flame Depths
Fire roared here like a living creature.
A molten labyrinth of obsidian bridges, magma rivers, and collapsing platforms.
Two high-level defenders guarded it:
A Flame Demon Lord, whose wings could ignite the air itself, and a Lava Golem the size of a tower, its body forged from crystallized magma.
Their hidden counterpart for sustainability was a Heat Core Generator, hidden inside a volcano's throat, using the realm's own temperature to produce power cores.
Even if an enemy survived the inferno, they would never notice the humming core buried below.
4. Vanaheim – The Verdant Mirage
A paradise of lush greenery and golden sunlight, but beneath the calm lay poison.
This level was both a sanctuary and a trap — vines that breathed, flowers that hunted, and beasts that bloomed from roots.
The defenders here were Feyborn Twins, nature spirits who could manipulate terrain and summon life to fight for them.
Their sustainability node was hidden inside a giant world tree — a disguised Bio-Reactor, converting organic growth into resources that could feed the entire base.
5. Jotunheim – The Storm Citadel
Thunder ruled here.
A city of floating stones eternally struck by lightning, powered by the chaos of storms.
The two NPC defenders were Storm Giants, clad in armor that acted as lightning rods, channeling energy directly into their weapons.
The sustainability system was disguised within the thunder itself — an array of Lightning Conduits that stored residual charge from atmospheric discharge and sent it upward to power the next layer.
6. Alfheim – The Glimmering Veil
A realm of beauty and deceit.
Soft light, endless fields of silver leaves, and a melody in the wind that lulled trespassers into eternal dreams.
Here resided two of the Sanctum's most elegant defenders — Eidolon Archmages, whose illusions could reshape the entire level's geography.
Hidden among the ethereal gardens was a Light Crystal Loom, weaving sunlight into condensed mana threads — perfect material for crafting, repair, and maintaining guild base integrity.
7. Nidavellir – The Forge Below
Metal rang like thunder here.
An underground network of glowing furnaces, smelting pools, and mechanical lifeforms forged by pure logic.
Two Automaton Smiths guarded it, both potential level 100, programmed to rebuild themselves using spare parts if destroyed.
The sustainability system here wasn't hidden — it was disguised.
To invaders, it would look like part of the scenery: a massive forge furnace.
In truth, it was the Core Foundry, where rare ores and materials gathered from other layers were refined into usable resources.
HIME: "Production functions in Nidavellir will stabilize income and maintenance expenses by forty percent."
Traveler_R: "Not bad. We're building an economy as much as a fortress."
8. Midgard – The Mortal Hall
The eighth layer was deliberately plain — a cityscape of human design, the most misleading of all.
While it appeared peaceful, this was actually the testing ground for intruders.
The NPC defenders were Adaptive Duelists, capable of copying the fighting styles of those who entered.
The sustainability mechanism was cleverly hidden in the city's infrastructure: a Trade Simulation Engine, designed to run mock economic cycles using stored data from the guild's financial systems.
While it generated no tangible currency, it provided statistical insight — an AI-driven market that predicted future resource needs for the entire fortress.
9. Asgard – The Core of Heaven
Finally, the top.
Where the Blade of Claim floated, surrounded by shifting platforms of light and suspended bridges.
Here, the core of Three Burning Eye resided — a radiant throne room shaped from mirrored crystal, both beautiful and unyielding.
Eight NPCs stood here as the final guardians and attendants, each potential Level 100.
Their designs varied, but all radiated divine energy — the elite protectors of the guild's soul.
And at their center stood the Sub-AI Administrator, the Sanctum Sub-Core — a perfect reflection of HIME, created from her own code but with no independent will.
It existed to maintain the entire base's internal equilibrium, a silent steward of Aeternum Sanctum's functions.
As the last sequence of creation completed, the projection flared one final time.
HIME: "Initialization complete. All primary defense and sustainability layers functional. NPC level distribution within parameters. Project Sanctum Ascension Phase One — success."
I looked up at the shining structure before me — a floating, crystalline world-within-worlds.
"What we've built…" I murmured, "it's no longer just a guild base."
HIME: "No, Ren-sama. It is a machine of eternity."
And deep within its mirrored walls, the hum of life — artificial, eternal, and silent — began to resonate.
The fortress of Three Burning Eye had awakened.
End of Chapter 13 – The Layers of Eternity