Is Unlocking the Stellaris Tech Tree in Star Rail Really Okay? [259]

After dealing with the "trap" inside Phantylia, the group pressed forward. Following Seele’s lead, they navigated through a mix of dilapidated and pristine buildings, eventually arriving near the central plaza.

The area was surrounded by towering interconnected structures adorned with blue-tinted glass and silver-gray metallic accents. The buildings stretched roughly 700 meters into the sky.

The lower levels of these skyscrapers featured semi-open terraces encircling about two-thirds of the base. These terraces were predominantly a deep cyan, with jade-like translucent pillars, dark blue tiled flooring, and windows framed in a pale, almost ethereal shade of glass. Dark gray embellishments lined the window frames, lending the structures a sharp, defined look. Standing at the plaza’s center, one couldn’t help but be immersed in the stark, cold-toned aesthetic of high-tech sophistication.

Holding a translucent fragment of material in his hand, Chen Lin tapped it lightly and mused, "This isn’t ordinary glass—it’s some kind of oxidized metal we haven’t encountered before. Probably a dual-purpose conductor of sorts. No idea how versatile it is, though…"

"Hey, we’re making quite a few discoveries here," Serval said excitedly. Throughout their exploration, she had collected numerous samples, carefully slicing off small portions to take back for further analysis. "This place is an absolute goldmine for any research institution!"

Chen Lin handed her the metallic glass. "It’s only a goldmine if we know what we’re digging up."

Serval grinned. "Oh, c’mon, Lin. Just from a glance, I can tell half the things here aren’t even in any known databases. If we manage to reverse-engineer this place, the payoff is gonna be huge!"

The academic discussion didn’t interest the others much, so they split up to do their own tasks. Seele and Gepard scouted the surroundings for any abnormalities, while Phantylia—after receiving a few instructions from Chen Lin—vanished without a trace.

Half an hour passed before Phantylia strolled leisurely back from a nearby terrace.

Once she reached Chen Lin, she reported, "Master, in the building directly ahead of you, I found an immense number of mechanical remains. They’re distinctly different from the ones we’ve seen before. Additionally, I discovered a passage leading underground… and the key thing is, some of the energy systems are still operational."

Hearing this clear deviation from the norm, Chen Lin immediately recalled Seele and Gepard. They, too, had encountered inactive yet undamaged mechanical remains elsewhere—though nowhere near the concentration Phantylia had described.

Without delay, the group set off toward Phantylia’s discovery.

From the outside, the building appeared undamaged. But as soon as they stepped inside, the truth became evident—there had been a fire here. Burn marks covered numerous surfaces, and the ground was slick with greasy residue, most likely from fire suppression systems that had automatically deployed in response to the blaze.

Embedded screens still flickered faintly, and decorative holographic projections continued running, corroborating Phantylia’s claim that energy was still being consumed.

The air was thick with a pungent odor. Just a few steps into the sticky, tar-like residue on the floor, the group came face-to-face with what Phantylia had found.

A sprawling hall, littered with shattered mechanical remains.

Scattered weaponry—ranging from sleek to bulky—lay untouched, completely free of dust, as if the catastrophe had only just unfolded. The walls and machinery showed signs of light damage, but nothing severe.

Seele frowned. "I don’t get it. What the hell happened here? The robots in this place look exactly like the ones I found elsewhere." She glanced around. "This doesn’t seem like an invasion or a defensive battle. Looks more like… they were wiped out in an instant."

"A civilization capable of creating these machines wouldn’t have weak ground forces," Chen Lin countered. "A full-on massacre seems unlikely. Mechanical units aren’t as fragile as you think."

Scanning the room, he noted that the mechanical remains formed an unmistakable figure-eight pattern—denser toward the center. The bodies weren’t randomly scattered; they had fallen in formation.

Most of them bore no visible damage at all.

This… was bizarre.

Had they all really been instantly executed, just as Seele suggested?

Everything seemed fine—and yet, Chen Lin’s frown deepened.

"If that’s not what happened, then how else do you explain this—uh, Brother Lin? What are you thinking?" Seele asked, noticing his expression.

Chen Lin didn’t answer immediately. He knelt beside one of the remains and pointed. "Don’t you find their postures and weapon placements odd? Look here—this one fell face-down, yet its weapon-wielding arm is positioned above its head. Its head is completely burned through—" He adjusted his position. "Kneel down and you’ll see. Its central processing chip is half-destroyed. And the size of this hole… matches the caliber of their own weapons."

The group collectively began inspecting the remains.

Soon, they realized—Chen Lin was right.

Almost every damaged mechanical unit had been shot through the core processor by its own weaponry.

Seele’s eyes widened. "Wait… You’re saying they self-destructed?"

Chen Lin exhaled. "I’m saying that’s what it looks like. And given how durable their bodies are, you try cutting one open."

Seele drew her weapon and slashed repeatedly at a mechanical limb—managing only a shallow cut after several attempts.

"Ugh! This thing is tough as hell!"

Chen Lin nodded. "Now do you see why I said this civilization was high-tier? If taking down just one unit requires this much effort, wiping out an entire force in an instant would be an immense undertaking."

Serval, however, was skeptical. "But for a civilization this advanced, especially one composed of mechanical beings, death has no meaning." She crossed her arms. "Take Svarog, for instance. As long as he has a backup, he can revive himself at any time. Destroying a physical body is nothing more than a resource waste—an inefficient strategy they wouldn’t normally resort to."

For truly sophisticated mechanical civilizations, the physical form was irrelevant. Their true selves resided in data cores. As long as backup cores existed, they would never truly die.

Of course, this sparked philosophical debates. Some believed a resurrected version was a new individual; others insisted it was the same person. This argument had raged for ages, with no definitive answer.

However, one undeniable fact remained—if identical backup cores experienced different events, their personalities and thought patterns would gradually diverge. They would become different people.

For this reason, most mechanical civilizations avoided activating multiple identical backups at once. Not only was it counterintuitive to organic understanding, but it also complicated their intelligence processing in unpredictable ways.

Serval then gestured toward the undamaged mechanical bodies. "And then there’s these. Completely intact, yet… dead. They didn’t just ‘malfunction’—there’s way too many of them for that."

Her voice trailed off as she turned to Chen Lin—who, without a word, had lifted one of the mechanical corpses.

A metallic clatter echoed as the weapon in its grip slipped to the floor.

Serval stared. "Wait—what the hell are you doing?!"

Chen Lin calmly explained, "Nothing much. Just proving a point—these bodies aren’t intact."

He shifted the corpse slightly.

"Their insides have been completely hollowed out. All that remains is an empty shell."

The room fell silent.

A wave of realization—and horror—washed over them.

Serval pressed her hand against one of the intact mechanical corpses, carefully probing its internal structure.

What she found shocked her.

Aside from the basic circuitry and foundational drive components, nearly all the critical modules—central processing chips, data cores, and computational relays—had been completely vaporized. Worse yet, many of the internal components showed severe degradation, as if they had been gnawed apart by thousands of tiny insects. The entire structure was significantly lighter than it should have been.

Most soldiers in the Psionic Iron Guard were trained to extend part of their perception into psionic fields, a technique that allowed them to "see" beyond the physical. While not requiring an immense amount of psionic strength, the method was complex and required extensive training. However, with enough practice, nearly everyone could manage to some degree.

Seeing Serval’s stunned expression, Seele and the tall, silent Gepard also decided to examine the seemingly intact mechanical remains. However, since neither of them had the same technical knowledge, they struggled to grasp the significance of what they were sensing.

"This… What the hell is this?" Serval muttered in disbelief. "I asked Svarog before about machine-specific viruses. He told me that when a mechanical entity is linked to a data network, it can be infected by malware specifically designed to target its systems. But even in the worst case, all that would happen is corruption of the central processing chip—bad commands, data loss, or, at most, a system crash leading to death."

She ran her hand over the eerie, hollowed-out husk again, feeling its unnatural lightness.

"But this? This is completely different! I’ve never seen anything like this!"

A fried processing chip? That was normal. It happened all across the galaxy. Entire civilizations worked endlessly to develop better ways to protect their AI cores, seeking to build perfect safeguards.

Fine. That was understandable.

But how the hell did something chew through their bodies like this?

A mechanical core wasn’t some fragile, organic organ—it was metal. High-density alloys, reinforced conduits, superconductive materials. Forget chewing through them; even hacking at them with an axe might not leave a scratch.

Chen Lin, standing nearby, gave the most honest answer possible.

"Great question. No idea."

Serval: "…"

Chen Lin shrugged. "Look, all I know is there are even more corpses up ahead—and there’s a tunnel leading underground. Let’s check it out. Maybe it’ll give us some answers."

He stood and began following Phantylia’s earlier tracks deeper into the facility.

The others exchanged glances before quickly following.

...

From the very beginning, Chen Lin had found it unsettling that this place still had active power sources.

It only took a short walk before he realized exactly why.

Shit. All the security measures were still operational.

The first corridor was littered with mechanical remains—except "remains" wasn’t quite the right word. The entire hallway was covered in solidified metallic residue, hardened into thousands of tiny bumps along the floor and walls.

The group nearly got annihilated right then and there.

At first, it seemed like no big deal. The doors required password verification—but the codes they had weren’t complete. Chen Lin figured they could just brute-force their way through.

Then, the security system denied their access.

And the walls of the corridor turned into a death trap.

A dense laser grid flickered into existence, its beams forming a perfect web of light. The moment their psionic shields touched the energy, they shattered instantly. If not for Chen Lin’s quick reaction, using [Zro Dust] to forcibly maintain a max-power psionic barrier, they would have been incinerated on the spot.

And destroying the laser emitters wasn’t an option.

The devices weren’t even in the physical plane. The weapons were housed inside some independent oscillating dimensional space, meaning they were completely untouchable.

The second corridor was pristine. Untouched. No signs of prior intrusion.

Then they failed another security scan.

The walls descended.

And dozens of combat drones swarmed out.

These weren’t ordinary machines—they were fast, heavily armed, and strong. The battle was brutal, but ultimately, the group was stronger. They dismantled every last one, forcing open the massive reinforced doors at the end and pressing forward.

The third corridor…

Another failed scan.

Another security breach warning.

Phantylia, leading the way, paused for just a second.

In that instant, a blast of ionized energy surged forward, instantly vaporizing her arm.

The stream of energy cut off just as suddenly as it had appeared. The massive security doors opened on their own, as if granting passage. No one had any idea what had just happened.

Phantylia, unfazed, grew a new arm right in front of them.

Seele and Gepard nearly jumped out of their skins.

"Foxian regeneration is… insane," Seele muttered under her breath.

The fourth corridor was safe.

The fifth was safe.

…

After an unknown length of time, the passage finally opened into a vast chamber.

The danger seemed to be behind them.

The walls were lined with embedded light panels, illuminating the massive underground complex. The space was filled with strange, unfamiliar machines, their functions unknown. Thick cabling ran across the floor, linking every device into an intricate network. Every few dozen steps, a massive seven-meter-tall rectangular machine loomed, still operational.

All around them, isolated rooms were sectioned off, their interiors visible through reinforced glass. Inside, holographic screens flickered, repeating video logs on a loop.

Based on the text and audio recordings, this civilization had once attempted a large-scale evacuation—an effort that had ultimately failed.

The logs reported the disappearance of entire fleets and the chaotic breakdown of planetary infrastructure. Every lost ship, every vanished individual, had been consumed by an unknown energy vortex.

The planet itself had been undergoing an unprecedented catastrophe. Individuals were going insane. Others were simply vanishing into thin air.

Chen Lin’s expression darkened.

"This… This sounds like… the Erasure Protocol?" he murmured, unsure.

He wasn’t confident in his own guess.

This place was too strange. At first, he thought they were dealing with rogue automatons. Then, he considered psionic abominations.

Now, this?

Even as a seasoned player, he was starting to doubt himself.

They continued searching.

Finally, they found it.

A massive amber-colored crystal, suspended atop a high platform.

Thick cables extended from every machine in the chamber, converging upon the crystal’s pedestal.

As soon as they approached—

Something activated.

The entire underground complex roared to life.

A figure appeared within the crystal—a hazy, indistinct silhouette.

The broadcast system crackled to life.

「Protocol PF4517… Scanning…」
「Detected: Pure organic lifeforms.」
「Response: Friendly.」
「Cognitive level: F4.」
「Communication viable: Yes.」
「Energy signature detected…」
「Psionic resonance… 94% match to recorded patterns.」
「Identification: Possible Descendant of Shelter One… Protocol approved…」

The automated voice continued its diagnostic checks.

Then—

The figure within the amber crystal turned toward Chen Lin.

And then—

It spoke.

Its voice was weak. Fragmented. But it carried emotion.

"You… You there…"
"Your ancestors… Did they… win?"

"…?"

Ancestors?

Win?

Win against what?

---

T/N: my ancestors are smiling upon me imperials, can you say the same?

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!