Biocores: The Legendary Weapon Designer-Chapter 84: The Zone

"Why did you want to meet?" Grimmes asked coldly.

"I may or may not have stumbled upon an occasion to deal a massive blow to the terrorist organization called Intra."

The pressure dropped immediately.

Not because of relief—

—but because Grimmes released his aura in full. A crushing, violent thing. It swept across the space like a storm. The rage was palpable, almost visible, clawing at the edges of reality.

But just as fast, he reined it in. His calm returned. His voice steady.

"I’ve gotten information on how they support the organization... but I still need to confirm a few things."

"What do you need?" Grimmes asked after cooling down.

"You seem to have a deep history with Intra. What can you tell me about this mission?"

Grimmes didn’t hesitate.

"Give up."

"Impossible," Nioh replied, his voice rising with a stubborn flame. "There’s a personal debt that needs to be paid."

Grimmes stared at him.

"Then you’re going to die," he said flatly. "You and your team of little heroes will be crushed like wasps. You can’t defeat the Olympians. They’re all Warden-class core weavers with decades of experience."

Nioh’s eyes narrowed.

"How did you know?" he asked. "About the members of the Pantheon?"

Grimmes sighed, leaning back.

"Intra has been active for a long time. I’ve monitored their activity for years. If you found this information, it’s probably because they want you to. Let me guess... the Olympians present are Aphrodite and Hermes?"

Nioh blinked.

"Yeah."

"The weakest members," Grimmes said bitterly. "Just strong enough to give you a thrill. Just weak enough to make you believe you stand a chance. It’s a trap. Odds are, a third or even a fourth member is lying in wait. The strategist is that devious."

"I had the same thoughts," Nioh admitted, rubbing the side of his head.

"So give up."

"I can’t. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. The stars don’t align like this often. I’m not letting it slip by."

Grimmes studied him carefully.

"A blood debt?" he asked.

"Yes," Nioh said. "A very deep one."

"Courage is not enough to win."

"I’ll build a Warden-killing weapon."

"That will not be enough."

"Why?"

Grimmes exhaled through his nose.

"It’s hard to explain. You need to experience it."

Then he raised his right hand.

A violent aura erupted from him like a hurricane. His biocore spun—viciously—like a nuclear reactor. Light bent around it. Space trembled. Then it happened.

The skeletal mecha began to rise.

Bone and steel fused. A towering warframe of skull and ash wrapped around Grimmes, transforming him into something monstrous. Something ancient and wrathful. His feet crushed the earth. His eyes glowed with the dead light of an old god.

"Zone," he whispered.

And the world around Nioh turned dark.

Not nighttime.

Not shadow.

Absence.

Like the sun had vanished. Like the world had blinked out.

Everything became cold. Gloomy.

Eerie.

Tombstones began to rise, hundreds of them.

Skeletons and twisted bone spread endlessly in all directions—

Until he stood in the middle of a graveyard that extended beyond space itself.

"This is my Zone," Grimmes said, his voice echoing in the void. "The Graveyard."

Nioh’s body went stiff. His breath caught in his chest.

"You should have felt it," Grimmes continued. "When you developed your intent. The pull. The anchor. The final form of intent... is to influence the world."

His skeletal armor burned faintly in the darkness, the light of the dead.

"That’s why Warden ranks are on another level."

Grimmes turned to him fully.

"Only a Domain can defeat a Domain. Without one...you cannot defeat the Olympians."

"Unless you can become a seven-star in a year. Give up"

"That is impossible in my current state, I would need at least more years to become a seven-star."

"But I can’t become a seven-star, with my own strength I just need to borrow some"

"What are you talking about."

"The method to create a Zone at six stars" Nioh replied excitedly as he ran to test his theory.

Grimmes, watched him leave the expanse confused about what his seed was preparing.

For someone who could emulate intent before rank five, he had no doubt NIoh would be able to find an alternative.

He had another serious matter that needed to be solved. If those bastards were getting active again he needed to be ready.

—

Nioh ran through the War Hall like a rocket, the conversation with Grimmes still buzzing in his ears like static.

Grimmes had shown him the way. He had seen the Zone. He had felt the weight of it.

The pressure. The intent. The domain. And in that crushing pressure... something inside him had clicked. He was enlightened.

Minutes later, he was standing at the entrance of his favorite place in the Citadel—

The Knowledge Hall. Quiet. Towering. Infinite.

Over the past year, he had visited it dozens of times, combing through restricted archives on Hell Energy—obsessed, borderline manic.

Now he was back, but this time with a new purpose.

"Hello, Cincina," he said, addressing the petite clerk in the front booth.

She barely looked up from her book—an actual book, the old-fashioned kind, made of paper, bound with thread and fading ink.

Nioh smiled and adjusted his headphones.

"Hello," she said, eyes glinting as she finally glanced at him. "You look in better shape than last time. Honestly, I thought you were gonna die. But I guess you’ve got tough skin."

She tilted her head. "Still chasing Hell energy?"

"Not this time," Nioh replied, tapping his forehead like he was holding in some massive secret.

"I want information on S-class resonating biocores."

"Resonating biocores?" she echoed, her curiosity instantly piqued.

"Yeah. I want everything you have on biocores that resonate at the same frequency."

Cincina sighed, already typing into her terminal.

"You always ask for the most random things," she muttered. "Let me see... yeah. Got something. It’s buried in a couple of restricted files." She paused, checked the ledger, and glanced up with a smirk.

"That’ll be one million Conqueror Points." Nioh didn’t blink. "Thank you."

"Room 6," she said, sliding a pale card across the counter. "You can take the information with you this time—if you think you can handle it."

He took the card. Didn’t even answer.

He was already walking.