Honkai Star Rail - Isekai'd With A Stellaron Within

Mark stared at the machine, watching as it stepped closer to them. The roaring chainsaw was a clear warning that it's not to be messed with.

"It's one of Svarog's lapdogs, alright? Be careful, we can take it down." 

Just as everyone prepared their weapons, Seele lunged forward, using her scythe to cut away at the chainsaw, cleaving easily through it. From behind, Dan Heng followed in, running his spear through it with ease, only for March to send off an arrow in its head. The thing was down in seconds, and all Mark could do was stand back and watch. 

"Damn... how is everyone so crazy strong? To cut through metal like that without any issues... oh boy, I'm more useless than I thought." 

The thoughts came down upon him once more, weighing down what little joy had reignited in him. With a rushed headshake, he tried to rid himself of the feelings, burying them down. He began walking anew. 

"Good work, all of you. Let's keep going now." 

He took the lead, more as a way to hide his face away from the others as the thoughts swirled through his mind like rabid beasts looking for prey. Once again, it was him against his mind—the same old battle that kept repeating itself. 

"Damn it... I need to shut them up. No matter what, I gotta keep going." 

They went along the way, which was eerily silent, even for Mark, who enjoyed how lifeless the world seemed at night. A cave's silence, however, was something entirely different. It was like a sleeping person who wasn't breathing. 

At some point, his eyes were graced by a dim, gentle light—a tower of shiny spikes that threatened to pierce the very rock that held it up. It was the Geomarrow vein. Mark nearly let out a whistle, yet he held back since it was likely to alert the wrong people—or robots. 

"Damn... this shit is massive. Like damn..." 

Bronya nodded while Seele spoke up, marveling at the sight. 

"I doubt the Underworld will ever see it fully excavated." 

With that, they moved along the path, only to come to a halt at some point. The road below was filled with robots, and yet they all remained stationary, even as the group approached. 

Mark's eyes looked up and down a machine far taller than the one they had fought, looking much more imposing, like a pillar that could hold up the underground on its own. It was none other than Svarog, with the tiny girl named Clara at his side. She was nothing out of the ordinary, just a little girl who walked around barefooted, her white hair a stark contrast to her rosy eyes that seemed to shine in the dim light. Just as they had gotten closer, Svarog turned to face them. 

Without hesitation, Seele stepped forward, ready to battle. 

"Svarog, we haven't settled our final score." 

Just as the robot was about to start a dispute, Mark stepped in, moving between the two, his eyes searching Svarog's visual scanner as if he could find any hint of emotion in it. 

"Wait, pause. Svarog, I'm not here to ask for battle... I'm here to talk." 

He looked both at him and Clara, who nearly seemed to hide behind him. Mark gave her a tiny smile, hoping to at least get a hint of help from her. Svarog simply spoke, the voice that came out mechanical in itself, a sound fabricated by inorganic means. 

"Calculations complete. This human doesn't abide by the ways of others. No conflict started. Preparing for battle should the need arise." 

The machines all turned on around them, and everyone behind him readied their weapons, yet Mark shouted. 

"At ease! Everyone, put your weapons down this very instant." 

They seemed hesitant, and Seele outright disobeyed, not even concerned about what he was trying to do. 

"Are you blind or stupid or both? Can't you see that the robots are ready to battle?" 

Mark snapped back, not taking no for an answer. 

"Hell no, they aren't. They take exact orders; they're not like us. If Svarog only told them to prepare, they're only preparing. They WON'T try to attack us. Just shut up and let me handle this." 

His mind was racing around for answers that he couldn't find along the way. What was he supposed to say? What should he do? Clara looked at him with her innocent eyes, holding on to Svarog's arm. Mark took a deep breath and spoke, trying to not choke on the fear that he swallowed as the robots remained ready for battle all around. 

"Look, Svarog, the thing is as follows. I'll outright give you the entire truth, without hesitation. You should have the info in your database. We are travelers from afar, from outside this world. Sure, look it up as I'm speaking; I know you can. However, don't fret much. We're here to try and help." 

Svarog analyzed what he had said, calculating once more what chance they would have. 

"Affirmative. I have such information in my records. However, the interference of new variables holds an impact of just 1.3%." 

Mark chuckled, hoping to drag it out in an interesting way. 

"Good, you obey logic, so you know that humans have a tendency of screwing up logic, numbers, and whatnot. You're much aware of how humanity can do a lot of great things, things that transcend whatever your main computer could handle. So, going by that logic, try to take a human that's as random as a zero. That's me, the one human without a specific value, a normal human that has nothing special about him other than information." 

Svarog followed along; however, Mark's reasoning didn't hold much ground. 

"Zero is just a redundant value." 

Mark nodded, somehow not even understanding what his own words held as logic; however, he kept going, hoping to trick the machine with just an inflated sense of power, trust in his comrades who had pulled it off in the future he knows, and pure guts. 

"Yes, that's right. Now... divide something by zero." 

He smirked, proud of where he was going with his argument, futile as it seemed. Behind him, the others were a bit baffled. March tried to do the actual calculation in her mind, asking Stelle for help, while Dan Heng let out a sigh. 

"Negative. Division by zero is not defined." 

Mark nodded. 

"Yes, my robot friend. I'm that zero that will divide this entire situation, the one variable that doesn't abide by the laws that you understand, the one variable that can take out a specific result out of an equation only by using limits that reach closer and closer to that zero." 

Svarog analyzed for a moment the processor that it used as a brain running at full power to try and make sense of his arguments, to find a counter. 

"How can you prove that you will solve the crisis for the world?" 

Mark took a deep sigh, looking over at Clara, who was listening intently to his words, trying to make sense of them on her own. 

"How, you ask? We know what the issue is, something that no one else did... the issue as to why the Underworld as the world above had been sealed off... the issue lies in Cocolia, the Supreme Guardian of Belobog." 

He let the words linger, not that Svarog would need much time to figure out all there was to learn about her title and what was available about her. 

"You see, Svarog, she's not entirely in her right mind. Plus, we have her daughter here, Bronya, who's willing to lend a hand. So, here I go. I did something completely irrational that no human would normally do: I revealed my cards to you, my hand, my magnum opus. We have her; we have information on the real root of the issue, yet we need your help." 

Svarog simply faced him, saying nothing for now. Deep down, Mark was proud that he made a highly advanced computer need time to think—then he recalled all the times he had made his desktop freeze and how complex that was too, and he just let the hype die out. 

"The point that you make lacks credibility. You did act outside of the parameters of my computation prowess, yet humans do that all the time. How would my assistance solve the crisis? What do you plan to do once you learn that bit of information?" 

Mark sighed, knowing that this very question could make it all crumble down. He looked back to the others, silently signaling to their weapons in case hell breaks loose. Dan Heng caught on to the hint, slightly tensing his grip on his polearm. 

"The threat that's affecting the Supreme Guardian is the same threat that is killing the world slowly and steadily... the Stellaron." 

Mark nearly took a step back as he waited for the robots to attack at once, yet it didn't come. Clara looked at him silently, a confused look on her face. 

"Searching database... Stellaron... access denied... Discussing 'Stellaron' with unauthorized targets: Prohibited." 

Mark sighed. 

"Ah, damn the old parameters from when those scientists or whatever had helped in making you. Heck, I'm pretty much aware that you can go over those parameters and discuss this topic, dangerous as it is." 

Svarog's sensor lit up, glowing an ominous red. 

"Threat index raised. I demand that you reveal your true intentions." 

The robots around didn't budge—for now. 

"Oh, I told you. We want to help this world just like those people who came here a few hundred years ago. Yes, we're not looking to do anything dangerous with it, and don't even bother to ask for my true intentions if you're not even going to believe me. Got that much, mister logic?" 

The last line sort of left him without much thinking, and Clara let out a tiny, childish laugh that made Mark break character and smile a bit. 

"Attempts at interacting with the Stellaron have been made in the past, all of them fueled by human greed—attempts to secure the article for a selfish end. As instructed by the Architects: any attempt to engage with the Stellaron will result in grave consequences. Target threat index critical." 

Behind Mark, the others were slowly worrying, seeing that talking didn't go as expected. Mark himself had thought that Svarog would listen to such logic, and yet he failed to remember something—a tiny bit of information that was ancored in the future known by him—Svarog didn't listen then either when the talk about a variable had been brought up. Even his point of the variable being a zero that would render division null, a number that makes as much logic as it doesn't, failed to get through to him. 

"Ok, listen here. I'll say this one last time. I'm holding on to this: we're here to help. If you don't wish to listen due to whatever reason you might have, past examples or whatnot, then so be it, but don't think that we'll just change sides for no reason. I'm a man of my word as much as I can be; no use in saying I'm perfect, but I can assure you that I mean it with all my heart." 

He threw any ounce of logic out the window and chose to solely focus on the weight that his words carried. He was one to enjoy giving some deep speeches sometimes, yet he had never done so in public. His words carried weight, and yet he failed to put that weight out as something tangible, be it just words that were mainly felt with one's heart. 

How would a machine react to it? He had no idea, and yet he knew that Svarog was no normal robot, nothing that he was used to. It did take care of Clara, a human child, so at least an ounce of empathy would linger within. 

"We're here to lend a hand and help, so you can either try and keep your head stuck between your legs and live some sort of 'safe, calculated' life with Clara, or you could genuinely help her achieve something way better above. The world needs sunlight, which it doesn't get due to the Stellaron. For Clara to grow up the proper way, she'd need to experience that." 

He failed to realize it, yet his words held a tangent with his very life. Always, as he grew up, to the current point, he had tried to play it safe, to go with the best choice. It was about time that he discarded something like fear out as much as possible and acted like a certain lady he knew, a lady he was supposed to meet as time went on—a lady that didn't know fear. 

"Screw a safe life; what is life without its challenges that force people to grow and adapt? You're not doing anything good for her other than keeping her alive and safe. You're limiting her to your damned parameters, Svarog!" 

He grabbed his metal pipe, which didn't leave his side—it always rested against his neck, with one side touching the ground—and stepped forward until he had gotten up and personal with Svarog. The robot simply looked down at him, following closely with its sole visual sensor. Mark lightly tapped it on the head, a simple, metallic CLANK echoing through the cave. 

"You want my answer, Svarog? My utterly honest reasoning? Fine, I'll be honest with it. I'm selfish, ok? I want this world to enjoy the sun despite their wishes. The sun is an annoying thing sometimes, too hot to enjoy, and yet... it's beautiful. This world deserves to see it too, in all its splendor. I couldn't care less about trivial things like power that can't help the weak. Let the world... let Clara enjoy all the wonders of a normal world. Ok?" 

Svarog's mechanical eye, which was glowing brightly in a red so vivid that it made Mark's body shake with fear, slowly dimmed down. 

"Analysis complete. Calling for temporary truce. I shall give you a chance to prove yourselves, humans. Make sure that your words are true, just as you claimed, human." 

Mark could finally feel his heart up in his throat, pumping blood like crazy, the veins on his arms inflated more than usual. Deep down, he was scared shitless, so scared that his body nearly refused to obey, and yet he acted. It was no hit in the literal sense, yet he had tapped on Svarog's head with the pipe, a weapon, makeshift as it was. 

His lungs deflated, a breath so heavy leaving that he felt his body lighten. His head nodded without his approval, knowing already that he would comply. 

"Yes, Svarog. Also," he reached out for a handshake. "Call me Mark. That's my name. Just a random human with no abilities other than idiocy taken to the extreme. The ones who will handle the Stellaron are behind me. They're the real deal when it comes to lending a hand. I just... try." 

Dan Heng took a step forward, staring straight at Svarog. 

"If possible, could you tell us about the whereabouts of the Stellaron?" 

"Negative. While Mark did prove himself, you are still under analysis. I require further data to make my final assessment. We shall take our leave. I expect you, humans, to deal with your crisis without using violence other than as a means of self-defense." 

He turned to face Mark, speaking in the same monotonous voice that was so iconic to him. 

"I expect you to hold on to your words, just as you have said. My calculations tell me against trusting you, but just as you said, a zero renders division useless." 

With that, he took Clara, and they walked away, the swarm of robots following. In that moment, as they disappeared, Mark simply fell on his ass, tired, sweating bullets, and feeling more alive than ever. 

"Heh, I guess... I guess that we still have some work to do. Sorry, I couldn't do more."