Deep within the compressed mechanical city, the team left the main assembly plant and ventured further into the unknown.
With too many variables in play, it was impossible to predict when danger might strike. For this reason, Chen Lin refused the Psionic Guard’s request to accompany them. Aside from Serval, everyone present was at least at the level of a psionic user—capable of handling threats independently if necessary.
Chen Lin divided the team into three groups. The Landau siblings were assigned to investigate the research district he had identified from the data modules. Seele was sent to explore the commercial district, while Chen Lin and Phantylia headed toward the most dangerous location—the military restricted zone.
Before splitting up, he had Serval modify their tracking devices, switching from the orbital research ship’s relay system to a direct Voidlink, ensuring real-time location sharing through the [Zroni Nexus].
If anyone encountered danger, Chen Lin could teleport to their location immediately and extract them.
With all preparations complete, the team dispersed.
…
Chen Lin had underestimated the sheer size of this mechanical city.
It was at least as large as Belobog, if not significantly bigger.
Adding to the difficulty, some unknown force continuously disrupted psionic energy. The cost of using psionics was too high, making it inefficient for travel. While teleporting through the [Zroni Nexus] was an option, he was too lazy to bother.
So he simply had Phantylia carry him.
A mount needs to be ridden often to be properly tamed, after all.
Luckily, Phantylia had far more than just psionics at her disposal. Aside from the destruction-aligned abilities ingrained in her very being, her “perfectly crafted” body was overflowing with mutated Abundance energy. The restrictions in this place barely affected her.
From the assembly plant, Phantylia gritted her teeth and flew at near-sonic speed for nearly eight minutes before they reached their destination.
The scene before them was not merely ruins—it was obliteration.
This was supposed to be a military zone, yet not a single robot was in sight.
When she was first forced to carry her master, Phantylia had been annoyed, alternating between flying fast and slow out of spite. But every time she slowed down, Chen Lin would flick her on the forehead.
After getting flicked enough times, her annoyance morphed into something strangely enjoyable. At one point, she even intentionally slowed down just to get flicked again—feeling oddly satisfied each time.
…Being ridden and disciplined by Master doesn’t seem so bad after all…
…
“All the people here… just vanished?”
The assembly plant at least had overturned cryopods and unfinished robot frames lying around.
But here?
It was empty.
Completely untouched.
The roads were smooth, the buildings intact, and the massive military vehicles remained neatly parked inside storage bays.
Yet there was no one here.
Chen Lin wandered through the complex, checking several buildings. Some were locked, but he forced his way inside. He found stockpiles of futuristic vehicles and incredibly advanced personal weaponry, yet not one operational robot.
With no other options, he resorted to Serval’s methods, using his understanding of the language to activate every power supply he could access.
That was when he found something odd.
Some of the energy devices contained a very familiar substance.
[Zro Dust].
Chen Lin dismantled one of the power units and found a crystal—about the size of a palm—emitting a dense psionic energy signature.
It was unmistakably a Zro Crystal.
How had they refined [Zro Dust] into this form?
He felt an intense urge to investigate further, but ultimately, he suppressed his curiosity and reassembled the device.
I’ve memorized their locations. I can always come back later.
A civilization that blended machine and psionics together…
What the hell were they?
…
After hours of effort, Chen Lin and Phantylia had restored power to the entire military district.
Now, the two of them stood before a half-dome metal structure, their brows furrowed.
When they first passed by this location, it was empty—just an unfinished building with nothing inside.
But now…
The entrance glowed.
Where a metallic door once stood, there was now a shimmering veil of light, like two pieces of glowing fabric replacing the original structure.
No matter how he tried, Chen Lin could not see through the light. Even when he attempted to probe it with psionic energy, it simply bounced back.
Whoever built this place had specifically designed it to block psionic scanning.
“…Can you detect anything inside?” Chen Lin asked, a little uneasy. “I suspect this is a ‘spatial node’—there could be something dangerous in there.”
Phantylia carefully extended her senses, then shook her head.
“No movement. It’s a separate, intact space—not shattered or collapsing. There’s no immediate danger. But, Master… if you go in, be cautious. There are additional nodes deeper inside—ah!”
She suddenly gasped.
“Master! There are rows of identical pods inside—just like the cryopods we saw before, all lined up neatly!”
Chen Lin didn’t hesitate. “Let’s go.”
The moment they stepped inside, a foul stench hit them.
Both of them instinctively covered their noses.
Phantylia grimaced, the powerful odor even making her—a being of destruction—wince. She immediately shut off her sense of smell.
The chamber was vast but mostly empty. The ground was stained with massive dark patches—dried corpse fluids.
On the far side of the room, massive steel shelves held countless metal capsules—cryopods. Many were cracked and corroded, the metal around the fractures discolored.
Chen Lin hated the feeling of suppressing his own breathing. Instead, he linked his respiratory system to the [Zroni Nexus], inhaling only purified air from within.
Even then, he barely resisted the urge to vomit.
If a normal person walked in here, they’d probably drop dead from the stench alone…
“The smell of dried corpse fluids from rotting bodies?” Phantylia murmured, sweeping her gaze across the room. “Honestly, this is worse than an abandoned battlefield…”
Chen Lin exhaled. “This reminds me of a certain father—one who kept trying to protect his people, not realizing they had all died long ago. He kept trading supplies, waiting for them to return.”
“…?” Phantylia blinked. “Master… who are you talking about?”
“A civilization that was both courageous and great.”
Chen Lin approached the cryopods and casually ripped one open. Inside was a corpse—wounds surgically repaired, as if prepared for preservation.
“But fortunately,” he continued, “this isn’t that civilization’s work. Otherwise, the entire universe would be in deep trouble.”
Phantylia didn’t dare say a word. She had no idea what her master was talking about, but she knew better than to ask.
If Master wants to explain, he will.
If he doesn’t, then I—a pitiful little slave—would only be inviting disaster by asking.
And if Master gets annoyed and decides to kill me for entertainment… wouldn’t that be a complete loss?
Phantylia was a smart girl. She knew when to speak and when to shut up.
…
After opening several more pods, Chen Lin sighed.
“All of these bodies were dead before they were placed inside. Some were embalmed, others weren’t. This is… strange.”
He glanced up.
The chamber’s ceiling was sealed—no sky, no daylight.
This was an artificially constructed space.
If he had to guess, these organic beings were likely psionic users in life.
The machines had preserved their corpses, but why? It didn’t seem like a collection—the pods were airtight, preventing any visibility.
Even a mech-servant knows to store a collectible figurine in a display case, right?
The mysteries only kept piling up…
Stepping over the dried remnants of corpse fluids, Chen Lin moved deeper into the chamber, counting as he walked.
By the time he reached the end, he had tallied a total of over 9,000 metal capsules.
That meant over 9,000 human corpses.
“Master, these two nodes are also separate spaces. They’re similar to this one, but the rightmost node seems to be connected to our current location instead of leading elsewhere,” Phantylia reported before he even needed to ask.
“Keep going. We’ll check every node in this place.”
“Yes, Master.”
And so, the two of them passed through one spatial node after another, entering chamber after chamber filled with the same metallic sarcophagi.
Corpses.
More corpses.
Still human corpses.
Chen Lin hadn’t seen a single functioning robot.
Only endless bodies.
Of course, that wasn’t all he found. Since he made a habit of randomly checking the capsules, he discovered that not all of them contained full corpses—some stored only severed limbs, organs, or biological tissue samples. The most unsettling ones held nothing but fragments of metal or tattered pieces of cloth.
…
Phantylia remained quiet for most of their journey, silently observing Chen Lin’s expression.
But he gave nothing away.
No emotion, no reaction—just cold calculation.
Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, Chen Lin closed the lid of another capsule and asked, “Which node is this?”
“The 621st.”
“Alright. Keep going.”
At this point, he had stopped counting the capsules altogether.
Instead, he had Phantylia keep track of the number of new space nodes they entered.
Each chamber seemed to hold roughly the same number of capsules, so there was no point in confirming the exact number of bodies. It didn’t matter anymore.
…
Then, at the 1,837th node, they found something different.
Instead of yet another chamber filled with metal coffins…
A colossal metallic obelisk stood in the center of the room.
Projected upon its surface were thousands upon thousands of faces—seemingly taken from records of these people when they were still alive.
“…A cybernetic memorial?” Chen Lin murmured without thinking.
Phantylia: “……”
Master… you really have a way with words…
Realizing that his choice of words might have been a little inappropriate, Chen Lin cleared his throat. “This is a memorial. It must be dedicated to those who died outside.”
“Let’s take a look.”
As they approached, the ground beneath them suddenly lit up with a warm orange glow.
The abrupt illumination startled Chen Lin enough that his hand instinctively went for the flying sword inside the [Zroni Nexus], preparing for combat.
Phantylia reacted similarly, tensing as if an attack was imminent.
Then, a voice echoed through the chamber.
「Detecting Psionic Energy… Frequency fluctuations within designated parameters. Excluding hostile psionic signatures. Verifying ■■■■■■ ERROR. Correcting central data processing ■■■… Verification complete. Friendly Psionic Individuals, Saint Covenant Warriors, have you returned to retrieve your ■■■ brethren? Thank you for following the clues to find ■■■…」
A deep mechanical groan rumbled beneath their feet.
Phantylia shot a wary glance at the ground, hearing strange, unintelligible chatter ringing in her ears.
Her body tensed.
“…Master, there’s something beneath us. Should I destroy it?”
“No. It’s not a security system.”
Chen Lin raised a hand to stop her and simultaneously translated the transmission for her to hear.
“Just listen for now. We need to understand what’s going on here.”
The voice continued, accompanied by the appearance of more text on the floor in the unfamiliar language Chen Lin had deciphered earlier.
「We did not break our promise to ■■■. All ■■■ have been placed within the ‘Naber Cryogenic Capsules.’ Congratulations on your victory.」
「However, we deeply regret that if you are hearing this transmission, it means that ■■■■ has severely ■■ our programming system. All ■■■ energy cores have been deactivated…」
「Extrapolation complete. We have initiated the ■■ protocol. We cannot resist the corruption of our programming. We cannot locate the missing rogue population ■■■■.」
「All surviving individuals have completed ■■… We do not wish to continue down a path of mistakes. Upon completion, all units will initiate self-destruction…」
「DATA ERROR…」
「The madness of ■■ consumed our brethren. We fused with all ■■■■, hoping to atone for our unforgivable sins…」
「DATA ERROR…」
「Transporting ■■ failed ■ DATA ERROR… Central Data Processing Unit… DATA ERROR… Password: ??■■■… DATA ERROR… Coordinates 07.41.0■… Proceed to recover ■■ and achieve redemption ■■■ ERROR… Termination ■■ ERROR… DATA ERROR…」
「DATA ERROR…」
「DATA ERROR…」
Then, the bright lights illuminating the chamber flickered a dozen times before vanishing entirely, plunging the space into complete darkness.
Chen Lin stood motionless, staring at the now-lightless floor, his expression growing increasingly grim.
He had a very bad feeling about this…
—
This is a fan translation of 在星穹铁道点群星科技树真的没问题吗? by 杏雨诗韵 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
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