CH67 Worst Case Scenario
The way creatures reacted to life depended not only on their nature, but also on their nurture — the environment that shaped them.
During his time in the Subspace, Alex had witnessed how the Crimsonspine-Frostback pack defied natural hostility between their breeds. The lack of environmental adversity allowed two typically warring wolf strains to evolve into a coexistent tribe.
Now, with the Spindlecarve Mite, Alex saw another side of nurture: adaptability.
After almost two months in captivity, the Mite had stopped resisting or trying to escape.
Its rudimentary intelligence made it possible for Alex to train it in some basic behavioural commands.
Once awake, the Mite didn’t even attempt to escape, despite Alex having undone its bindings.
Instead, its beady eyes turned to him, awaiting instruction. According to its conditioned training, it would either be directed to its insect accommodation or given food.
Essentially, it had grown accustomed to the soft life under Alex’s care.
Using techniques he’d learned from a Beast Tamer at the Enclave, Alex had gradually trained the creature.
With the aid of his Spirit Sight, he had also begun deducing the likely function of the Ancestral Marking on the Mite’s carapace.
His current hypothesis? The marking was a filtration mechanism — capable of detecting and separating mana and bloodline essence.
Spindlecarve Mites bored into bones to absorb lingering Essence. Over time, they had likely developed a specialised structure to prevent overload or corruption from foreign magic and bloodlines.
Organic tests conducted by a bio-alchemist confirmed that the Mite’s genetic material was extremely unstable. Under magical radiation, it mutated at a high rate — a likely result of feeding on varied bone and blood sources.
The Ancestral Marking must be the creature’s natural regulator — a sort of biological firewall.
As the old saying went: Mother Nature always finds a way.
Of course, this was all theoretical.
Thankfully, Alex now had the Detector Rune to put his theories to the test.
He instructed the Mite to fly into its feeding enclosure.
Obediently, the carapace split, exposing transparent wings that buzzed softly as it took flight and landed in the feeding case.
Alex dropped in a bone still dripping with blood and fat — freshly harvested from a Class 1 Magic Beast.
This had been the Mite’s diet for nearly two months. Luxurious, by the scavenger insect’s standards.
Alex watched intently, recording every movement, every response.
The Mite fed as expected. No strange behaviour. No magical feedback.
Everything remained normal — a good sign. Stability was critical if he hoped to get clean readings when the Ancestral Marking activated.
About an hour later, the Mite had hollowed out the bone and, a little wobbly, returned to its insect accommodation.
It curled up to rest.
Then, faintly at first, the Ancestral Marking shimmered to life.
The response was promising.
The marking synchronised perfectly with the Detector Rune, which began transmitting readable signal patterns to the OmniRune Core.
Alex sat back, cautiously optimistic.
The Ancestral Marking usually stayed active for about half the time the Mite spent feeding. After thirty uninterrupted minutes, Alex finally let out a sigh of relief.
Everything was going according to plan.
He closed the pen housing the Mite and headed over to review the data processed by the OmniRune Core’s internal AI.
Just as he began mentally parsing the results, a sudden thudding noise from the enclosure made his eyes snap open.
Through the transparent, reinforced glass, he saw the Spindlecarve Mite convulsing violently.
Through the OmniRune Core, Alex immediately sensed a spike — a resonance surge between the Detector Rune and the Ancestral Marking.
And then something went wrong.
The Rune Tattoo began rewriting itself.
Line by line, glyph by glyph, it merged with the Ancestral Marking — forming a new composite structure.
Not just a reaction. A fusion.
Fortunately, the disaster with the Spatial Formation Array had taught Alex a painful lesson.
This time, he had embedded a failsafe within the rune logic — a command layer that would force a controlled self-destruction if the rune deviated from its design.
That trigger activated.
The rune initiated a breakdown sequence, burning out key lines of its structure.
The merging was already complete.
The Rune and the Ancestral Marking became one — a new entity — and faded into the Mite’s carapace, absorbed completely.
Alex stood there, silent.
The consequences... unknown.
Alex frowned deeply—about as much as his facial muscles allowed—as he observed the alarming, unexpected turn of events.
The plan had been simple. In theory.
Develop a Detector Rune capable of monitoring the function and behaviour of a single Ancestral Marking. Then, once stability and accuracy were confirmed, gradually scale up to observe larger and more complex Markings.
With the data gained, Alex could slowly build a true understanding of these so-called Ancestral Markings—what they did, how they operated, and how they interacted with magical systems.
Eventually, he hoped to create a Rune–Ancestral Marking Interface—a framework to safely apply runic modifications to these mysterious biological inscriptions.
That was the vision. A long-term, layered plan.
But before any of that, Alex had to overcome the first major hurdle: creating a Detector Rune that could safely interact with and analyse an Ancestral Marking without interfering with its function.
The requirements were strict. The rune had to:
Detect the operation of the Ancestral Marking. Maintain zero interference—no feedback, no mutations, no changes to the marking.
Alex had been meticulous. He had written strict rune logic protocols to prevent interference, even encoding a failsafe: if the rune detected anomalous interaction, it would self-destruct before any instability could spread.
And yet... the worst-case scenario still occurred.
’How could this happen?’ Alex calmly mused, expression blank but mind racing. ’I followed every protocol. I accounted for all relevant variables when writing the rune logic. I even consulted a Master Bio-alchemist. I took every precaution.’
His frown deepened slightly.
’This shouldn’t have happened.’
He was almost completely—99.98%—certain that the catastrophic fusion was not caused by a fault in his rune’s design.
’Then that only leaves one possibility. The issue didn’t come from my side... but from something outside my understanding.’
His ruby eyes turned toward the most likely source of that unknown variable:
The Ancestral Marking itself.