Journey To Transhuman: Chapter 13 (Patreon)

I stared at the door and seriously considered ignoring it. Would’ve been easy. Sensible, even. But in the back of my mind, I could feel it—this was my last door slot. And I hated the idea of wasting it.

Like before, it wasn’t just a normal door; it twisted in on itself, splitting down the middle to reveal two different doors. Both were crap.

The right side was draped in gold and steel. Regal eagles, animal motifs, swords, skulls—Warhammer 40k imagery in full, grimdark glory. The number “40K” was carved into a golden skull.

The left side was worse.

A swirling kaleidoscope of colors, moving symbols that refused to stay still. Chains, some black and white. Wisps of blue that looked like stars. Green serpents made from living pages. A red wheel of fire spinning chaotically in the center. And through it all, the letters “SCP” burned into an ever-shifting flow of color that hurt to look at.

Two hellworlds. Two flavors of cosmic horror. But this wasn’t a hard decision.

There was no goddamn way I was stepping into SCP.

I didn’t even risk peeking through to see what lay on the other side. Just waved the door away, banished the SCP half from existence, and locked in the 40k option. I wasn’t about to deal with reality benders, memetic hazards, or whatever crazy shit that universe might throw at me. Not even with perks. I wasn’t about to test whether knowing any meta knowledge would trigger the gaze of some eldritch being or infect me with a brain parasite.

Hell no.

Not that 40k was much better.

But it had thousands of planets. Statistically, I had better odds of landing somewhere discreet or safe. Marginally. I hope. And the tech—if I could get my hands on it—would be worth the risk.

I glanced at the twins—Devola stood stiff, eyes locked on the door with open distrust, while Popola kept flicking her gaze between it and me, as if weighing which one was the bigger problem.

Now came the hard part. Convincing them that walking into a universe with psychic demon gods, asshole aliens, and an entire empire of people who’d probably hate them on sight was somehow a good idea. 

Shiiittt…

*********

Popola hadn’t known what to expect when she finally stepped through the door.

Issac’s description of a galaxy-spanning human empire had sounded like pure fantasy—something out of an android’s escapist fiction. Far too ridiculous to be real.

Though she doubted even the most hardcore androids would write stories that included the kind of horror this universe inflicted on their creators.

Even with just the cliffnotes, the details made her circuits crawl. A dimension filled with monsters that fed on human souls and suffering. Aliens wiping out or enslaving her creators on a scale that defied comprehension. Humanity trapped in the decaying husk of an empire, torn apart by endless strife, terror, and division. It felt like a universe ripped straight from an android’s worst nightmare.

So yes—she wasn’t ashamed to admit there was some fear in her steps as she crossed the threshold.

Which made the arrival all the more underwhelming.

A patch of dirt. An empty clearing. Not even a single soul in sight.

Part of her felt… disappointed.

She knew how the Imperium of Man worked. Any humans here would likely see her as some “abominable intelligence” and hate her on sight. But still, a small part of her had wanted to see them anyway. Just to know and see humans again.

Instead, she found herself staring at architecture that looked like it had been pulled from a fever dream. The scale alone was insane—towers of metal stretching into the sky, winding paths and pipes crisscrossing overhead, forming layers upon layers of mechanical complexity. The Army of Humanity would go bankrupt trying to build even a fraction of this. Assuming it was even possible in the first place.

She tilted her head up. Dozens of pathways, conduits, platforms—all disappearing into a fog so high above she couldn’t see the top.

In another time, it might have filled her with awe.

Here, it only filled her with disgust.

The hallways were grotesque. Twisted corridors of rust, refuse, and reeking metal. Machinery mixed with housing, trash crammed into every crevice, decay baked into the walls. A maze of filth.

She was beyond relieved the scent-masking spell was still active—without it, she was fairly sure she would’ve thrown up from the sheer filth saturating this place.

Pushing that aside, she started circling the immediate area around the door, checking every corner, pipe, and crevice. The place was disgusting, yes, but the location itself wasn’t bad. The door had opened into what looked like an abandoned zone. No people, no immediate threats. That was something.

Still, she wasn’t about to take chances.

She kept moving, scanning every angle, mentally noting escape routes and blind spots. Just because it looked empty didn’t mean it was safe.

Honestly, she hoped Issac would never have to set foot in this place.

In a perfect world, he’d stay tucked away in that apartment, safe and hidden, while they waited out the Machine monstrosity's looming outside the apartment door back home. But she couldn’t deny the opportunity here—what this world might offer. The potential for knowledge, technology, tools they couldn’t even dream of.

She just wished it didn’t mean risking him to get it.

“Idiot,” Popola muttered. “Won’t even let us scout without making a fuss.”

It made her head feel warm and fuzzy, the way he worried about them. His concern wasn’t performative—he genuinely cared. That was… nice.

But also a problem.

They were built to serve. That was their purpose. And serving meant taking risks. Facing danger. Dying, if necessary.

Hard to do that if their human didn’t want them to die.

She sighed and kicked a rock across the cracked ground, shaking her head.

A crunch followed by a sudden crash drew her attention. Part of the wall gave way—collapsed inward—and through the dust, she caught a flash of red fabric.

A robe. Gleaming with gold and silver, glinting off a metallic frame beneath. A body long lost to time.

Her eyes narrowed.

Well, it looked like she’d be of service after all.