Awakening a 10,000x Skill Proficiency Multiplier in the Apocalypse

Sebastian gritted his teeth as the pain hit him.

It felt like being crushed in a hydraulic press while simultaneously being shoved through a dial-up modem.

His physical body began to violently glitch.

His black leather coat, his boots, his very flesh—it all began to dissolve into a swirling storm of pure, raw green data. He was forcefully un-rendering his physical meat-suit, compressing his Demigod stats, his inventory, and his consciousness into a microscopic packet of pure, localized source code.

Corvin watched in absolute horror as the towering intruder literally folded in on himself, shrinking down until there was nothing left but a small, violently buzzing sphere of green light floating in the air.

Before Corvin could even scream, the green sphere shot forward and slammed directly into his chest.

It didn’t leave a physical mark. It plunged straight into Corvin’s digital interface.

Inside the dark, empty space of his own mind, Sebastian’s consciousness stabilized. He didn’t have a body anymore. He was just a floating perspective looking at the world through Corvin’s eyes.

He accessed Corvin’s localized UI. He completely bypassed the primary folders—the health bar, the inventory, the active skills.

He dragged his compressed data packet into the deepest, darkest corner of the bureaucrat’s operating system.

He shoved himself into the ’Recycle Bin.’ He renamed his file string: [Error_Log_004_Null].

”Can you hear me, Corvin?” Sebastian’s voice echoed directly inside the terrified Admin’s skull. It sounded like a cold, metallic whisper scraping against his brain.

Corvin shrieked, grabbing his head. ”Get out! Get out of my head!”

”Calm down and grab the steering wheel,” Sebastian ordered, his voice vibrating with absolute, unyielding authority. ”I am currently existing as a dormant trash file in your background processes. To the scanners, I am just a corrupted text log you forgot to delete.”

”You’re a parasite!” Corvin sobbed, entirely losing his aristocratic composure.

”I prefer ’unwanted software update’,” Sebastian corrected smoothly. ”Now, listen to me very carefully. You are going to fly this ship into the Hub. You are going to walk through the Golden Rings. You are going to act like the same arrogant, insufferable snob you were five minutes ago. If you try to warn the guards, if you try to flag your own system for a virus scan, I will expand my file size and physically rupture your brain from the inside out.”

Corvin swallowed hard. He could feel the heavy, terrifying weight of the Demigod’s code resting right against his digital soul. It was a loaded gun pointed directly at his consciousness.

”Do we have an understanding?” Sebastian asked.

”Y-yes,” Corvin stammered, wiping his nose and frantically straightening his white silk suit.

”Yes, we have an understanding.”

”Good,” Sebastian said, settling comfortably into the dark corners of the man’s mind.

”Drive safe. I get motion sickness.”

—-

The approach to the System Hub was the most stressful commute Sebastian had ever experienced, and he didn’t even have a physical stomach to feel sick with.

Through Corvin’s eyes, Sebastian watched the massive, blindingly white Dyson sphere dominate the viewport. The three colossal Golden Rings rotated slowly around the structure, casting shifting shadows across the transport ship’s cockpit. Up close, the rings weren’t just made of light; they were dense, physical walls of burning, golden source code.

They were the ultimate firewall. The bouncers of the multiverse.

”Approaching Sector Alpha transit gate,” Corvin said aloud, his voice trembling slightly.

He gripped the flight stick so tightly his knuckles were stark white.

”Breathe, Corvin,” Sebastian whispered from the deep recesses of the man’s UI. ”If your heart rate spikes, the scanners will flag you for emotional distress. Think about spreadsheets. Think about golf. Whatever you boring corporate suits do for fun.”

Corvin took a shaky breath, forcing his posture to straighten. He pulled the ship into the massive, open docking bay at the base of the Hub.

The ship touched down with a soft, magnetic hum.

”This is it,” Corvin whispered.

He stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in his white suit, and walked down the ramp.

The transit terminal was a vast, open platform of polished white marble that led directly to a massive, shimmering gateway. Standing on either side of the gate were two towering Void Wardens, their faceless chrome visors tracking every single movement.

But the real threat was the gateway itself. It was a solid sheet of golden light.

”Step forward, Junior Administrator,” one of the Wardens commanded, its voice a flat, synthesized drone. ”Submit to the deep scan.”

Corvin walked forward. His legs felt like lead.

Just act natural, Sebastian reminded him silently. I’m just an old error log. Nothing to see here.

Corvin stepped into the golden light.

BZZZT.

Inside Corvin’s mind, Sebastian felt the scan wash over them. It was a terrifying, invasive sensation. It didn’t just read physical mass or inventory items. It felt like icy, microscopic fingers sifting through every single line of code, every memory, and every active subroutine.

Sebastian forcefully suppressed his own existence. He locked down his massive 10,000x multiplier. He completely buried his [Sovereign of Laws] class tag. He made himself as small, boring, and insignificant as a misspelled word in a text document.

The golden light lingered for three agonizing seconds.

[Scan Complete.] [Entity: Corvin. Status: Clear.] [Notice: Minor fragmented junk data detected in background cache. Recommend localized defragmentation at earliest convenience.]

”Proceed,” the Warden buzzed, stepping aside.

Corvin exhaled a massive, shuddering breath and walked through the gate.

See? Sebastian’s voice echoed in his head, sounding intensely smug. I told you I was just a harmless typo. Now, keep walking.

The interior of the System Hub was nauseatingly perfect.

If Server 112 was a corporate dystopia, the Hub was the idealized utopia those executives dreamed of. The architecture was a seamless blend of flowing white marble, hovering crystalline gardens, and geometric, glowing blue pathways. There was no dirt.

There was no noise. The air smelled of absolute, sterilized perfection.

”Where are we?” Sebastian asked, analyzing the sprawling courtyard through Corvin’s eyes.