Chapter 494: Chapter 482: Three Skins

On the Golden Throne, Allen’s physical body sat with eyes closed, his vital signs maintained at the minimum level for "hibernation."

But on the data plane, a journey unlike any other had begun.

[Phase Two Test initiated: Descending into real-world physical vessel.]

[Primary Target: Godly Statue - Cyclops - Cyclops.]

[Consciousness stream projection initiated...]

It was like plunging from ten thousand meters into the deep sea, only to be flung toward the stars in the next instant.

After a moment of absolute darkness, Allen’s "vision" suddenly cleared.

What he "saw" was no longer the light and shadows captured by flesh-and-blood eyes, but a 360-degree panoramic image constructed by a wide-angle Crystal Stone array and a Magic Radar.

The floor of the Cybertron Hangar below seemed as small as a sand table model.

The sixty-meter-high vaulted ceiling, deliberately built to be that tall, was now almost within reach.

He slowly raised his "hand."

It was a sky-scraping pillar forged from "Earth Vein Tempered Steel," weighing hundreds of tons.

Every flex and extension of the five "fingers" caused the drive shafts and Magic Circuits to let out a dull, thunderous roar.

He could "feel" the three "Earth Core Furnaces" in its chest operating at a stable output, immense energy flowing like docile blood through every inch of its metal skeleton.

The two massive Earth Vein Anchors on its back were like an unfurled spine, holding the terrifying potential to resonate with the pulse of the entire earth.

With a thought from Allen.

The Cyclops took a step forward.

BOOM!

The entire Cybertron Base trembled slightly.

"Jarvis, let’s try switching vessels."

[Command confirmed. Target Vessel: Godly Statue - Eight-winged Angel - Gabriel.]

His vision switched once again.

The feeling of weight, immensity, and violence receded like a tide, replaced by an ultimate lightness and elegance.

Allen found himself suspended in mid-air, twenty-four meters high.

The matte white porcelain armor reflected a soft halo, and golden lines of Runes flowed slowly like living things.

He could "feel" the eight wings of light on his back, intimately connected to the "Chanting Core."

With a subtle thought, eight pure white wings, each sixteen meters long, unfurled silently behind him. Fragments of light occasionally crumbled from the edges of the feathers.

"Open the dome."

The gates on the hangar ceiling slowly opened.

As if lifted by an invisible hand, Gabriel shot upward with a smoothness that defied the laws of physics, instantly breaking the sound barrier.

Mach five!

In Allen’s "field of vision," the entire hangar was stretched, distorted, and finally reduced to a blurry streak of light.

He could feel the "Stress Defense Runes" on the body’s surface activating, converting the air friction from supersonic flight into harmlessly dissipated Magic Power.

The sensation was far more wondrous than controlling it through a spiritual link.

He was Gabriel, and Gabriel was him. Every wing, every Rune, had become an extension of his senses.

"Switch. Android 18."

[Command confirmed.]

A fall from the heavens to the mortal world.

Allen’s perspective suddenly dropped to a height of 169 centimeters.

He was standing barefoot on the cold metal floor, clearly "feeling" the neural circuits of Void Star Gold laid beneath every inch of Biomimetic Polymer Material skin, transmitting signals at a rate of hundreds of millions of times per second.

He tried taking a few steps. The body’s balance, muscle control, power output... everything was absurdly perfect.

No lactic acid buildup, no accelerated heartbeat, no ragged breathing.

The "Hephaestus Type I" engine, powered by dual Kryptonite fuel rods, hummed quietly in its chest, providing nearly limitless power.

He raised a hand. The muzzle of the Magic Compression Cannon in his palm opened slightly, ready to unleash a strike equivalent to a Second-level Wizard’s attack at any moment.

’Is this the form of a silicon-based lifeform?’

’To be free from the fragility, fatigue, and decay of a carbon-based lifeform, transformed into a machine that never wears down, that is forever precise.’

Allen stood still, quietly experiencing these three completely different forms of "life."

The pinnacle of violent aesthetics, the embodiment of aerial supremacy, and the perfect hunter for stealth and assassination.

They were all extensions of his will, different "skins" he had prepared for himself.

[Phase Three Test: Cultivating in a Golem body.]

Jarvis’s voice sounded at the right moment.

Allen "sat" down cross-legged—in the form of Android 18. He began to attempt running the "Machines Resonance Meditation Method."

The Sea of Spirit is not dependent on the brain, but a byproduct of the soul.

As long as the soul is indestructible, the Sea of Spirit will exist forever.

Allen quickly sank into a state of Meditation, his Spiritual Power extending outward to draw in the free-floating Magic Particles from the environment. However, a problem soon arose.

The Magic Particles could be drawn into the body, but unlike in a body of flesh and blood, they couldn’t resonate with the cells, blood, and bones to temper the physical form and elevate its level of life.

The efficiency of inscribing Runes also dropped by about thirty percent for no apparent reason.

More importantly, he couldn’t use any Magic Potions.

The principle behind those precious potions was to act on the physiological systems of carbon-based life, stimulating potential and aiding in the soul’s sublimation.

For a body made of meteoric iron and biomimetic materials, even a priceless bottle of "Dragon Blood Essence" would not provide the slightest benefit.

"Stop the test." Allen opened his eyes. There wasn’t the slightest ripple in his blue, electronic irises.

[Phase Four Test: Consciousness returning to host body.]

After a long wait and a brief spell of dizziness, Allen’s consciousness sank back into a warm darkness.

He could once again feel his own physical body’s heartbeat, feel the blood flowing in his veins, and his lungs breathing on their own.

He snapped his eyes open.

The familiar metal dome of the Cybertron Main Control Room filled his vision. He was still sitting on the Golden Throne, holding his previous posture.

"Jarvis, report the total time and energy consumption for the test."

[Consciousness upload to the Cyber Spirit Realm: 8 minutes, 12 seconds. Consciousness descent into ’Cyclops’: 4 minutes, 31 seconds. Switch to ’Gabriel’: 17 seconds. Switch to ’Android 18’: 9 seconds. Consciousness return to host body: 11 minutes, 46 seconds. Total time elapsed: 24 minutes, 55 seconds.]

Nearly half an hour.

Allen’s brow furrowed slightly.

’That’s too long.’

’On a rapidly changing battlefield, half an hour is long enough to get me killed a hundred times over.’

"Analyze the cause."

[The data volume of your soul is too vast. As a Second-level Wizard who has constructed seven Core Matrices, your soul’s strength and informational complexity are over a hundred times that of an ordinary human. Losslessly translating it into a data stream and then reverse-compiling it from a data stream back into a soul form places an extreme computational load on the current ’Allen Network’.]

[Furthermore, this test was conducted in a highly specific environment. ’Sword Art Online’ is a virtual space tailored for you; the ’Chanting Cores’ and ’Soul Cores’ of the three test Golems were all modified to the highest specifications, with low-level protocols reserved to interface with your soul.]

Jarvis calmly stated the conclusion.

[If your consciousness were forcibly descended into an ordinary Golem, its low-level Control Core would have insufficient processing power. Your consciousness would be formatted due to the inability to be hosted, resulting in the equivalent of brain death.]

He had succeeded, but not completely.

To transform the "Consciousness Upload" project from a theoretical model in a laboratory into an "ability" that could be used anytime, anywhere, he had to solve two core problems.

First, efficiency. He needed to compress the upload and download times from half an hour to a single second, or even less.

Second, universality. He needed his consciousness to be able to descend into any High-Level Golem he personally created, not just be limited to those three expensive, custom-built machines.

The only way was to elevate this "technology" of consciousness uploading, which relied on external servers and complex protocols, into a "Core Witchcraft" inscribed upon his very soul.

Then, every upload and download would be as instantaneous as an instinct.

Jarvis offered a suggestion.

[In the future, it will also be necessary to preset a port in the Control Cores of all High-Level Golems to interface with this Witchcraft.]

Allen nodded slowly.

’Turning it into Witchcraft... that really is the only solution.’

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