Dust, dust, and more dust. The entire room and every other room I walked through was filled with nothing but dust. Some parts of the fortress had no lights, and Journey’s stark white powerful headlights would make the entire way forward feel like I was walking in a glitter fog of some kind.

Very disorienting. It even kicked up the biohazard sign a few times when it considered the air too filled with particles to be safe. The reason dust hadn’t settled was due to the ventilation of this fortress still being active.

And very quickly it turned from fortress to maze as I realized this was cudgeled together from a few different templates, all glued together. Gravity was universally always pointing down, but that didn’t always mean the sections of human fortress was built to have gravity pointing in that direction.

Mites.

Somehow the entire fortress was still functional. Every screen I passed showed the outside battle raging, with swarms of fish chasing after two targets jumping left and right, or flying all over the place. Keeping the peace out there, good work team.

While this place was huge from the outside, the inside was easy to navigate thanks to it being spacious. Bunk beds, infirmary, engineering bay, and a few other sections of note were passed by, but all of it had large ceilings, and wide open air that let me see further off. Catwalks were everywhere further past the inner layer, and all of them converged on a center smaller sphere with two doorways.

Looked almost suspended, with all the catwalks holding it still in the center. And gravity all seemed to point directly down at it. So this must be the source of everything.

I climbed up one last set of punctured metal railings, then jumped down at the center sphere. I landed without trouble, and the doorway before the heart of the biome opened up silently. Welcoming me in.

Inside was a command bridge of some kind. Or three command bridges fused together. Three tiers of catwalks, each filled with stations and screens, all showing the outdoor fight again. Many of them looked to have HUDs with targeting reticles. A few showed outline images of gun turrets in green, orange and red. Most of the screens showed orange or red, but a few were all green.

And before all of it was a massive window wall that curved with the sphere, showing the outside.

I slowly walked through this dead and empty bridge, headlights searching around for more.

It was on the bottom tier of the three catwalk tiers, floating over a pedestal of some kind. Nobody could miss this kind of thing. A box of cubes, all fused together. Shifting, constantly in very strange ways. Some of the cubes would shrink then vanish away. Others would appear out of nowhere, grow, move, and eventually vanish like they’d moved through an invisible wall. Whatever it was, it wasn’t human.

I walked down all the catwalks, reaching the bottom tier of the fake bridge, and made my way to the mite treasure.

Lights flashed across all the screens, and then everything went dark. Before lighting back up with a single line across all screens. It moved like a disturbed wave, and a voice came out of the speakers, matching the line’s motions.

“Welcome intruder.” A rather obnoxious young man’s voice crackled out from everywhere around me. “I am Speaker. I am in charge of speaking for the Judge.”

I already had my blade and armguard up, pointed out into the wider room. Nothing else in here that I could see with the soul sight, nor anything on Journey’s HUD. Just an empty bridge room with screens everywhere.

Another voice crackled. This one sounded completely robotic. “DESIGNATION: JUDGE. FUNCTION: GUARDIAN OF TREASURE.”

Cathida flickered over the headset comms. “Uh oh. We might be in trouble here deary.”

“I’m going to guess Relinquished did find her way inside here? Who are these two?”

“It’s not machines, but they’re worse. These are mite programs. They’re half-insane already.”

“We’re all a little insane already, what’s special with these two?” I asked. “Are they famous?” Then another thought came to mind: “Wait, we're deeper than most people ever reach, how do you know these two? … Are you hating on them just because they’re robots? Cathida, I thought you’d grown up from that.”

“Not at all deary,” She sounded aghast at that. Offended even. “My hatred is completely justified. I’m hating because this is the Guardian pair. It’s a pair of virtual intelligences that handle this particular mite type of mite treasure. They’ve basically sealed off hundreds of caches so far in the last seventy years. Doesn’t matter the strata. Imperial records have all the dirt on these two.”

“And by screwed what exactly do you mean?”

The terminal answered for her on its own. “Your little voice in your head means none have answered our riddles three correctly thus far, would-be thief.”

Eavesdropping much. Though there really isn’t any other sound in this entire room besides me, so I’ll give points to that.

“You’re a mite program then?” I asked. Internally, I was poking Superior for answers.

Mites aren't saying anything reasonable.

Should we take a shot everytime they answer gibberish?

No, I think even Wrath wouldn’t be able to outheal the liver damage from that. Best I could describe what they’re saying back… if the mites were artists, this would be me asking them if they added some red in their latest painting. The answer is yes, there’s some red in here, am I colorblind or something? They don’t see how the AI guarding their chest is any different from the chest, the walls, or the rest of the biome. It’s all part of the package they made.

“We serve the Creators above all.” Speaker said. “Your prior kin have entered our sanctums with such hope to pillage their great work, and greed deep within your filthy little hearts. They left with naught but despair. But have no fear, you too will soon be leaving with the same.”

“How many of my prior kin are we talking about?

“RECORDED PRIOR ATTEMPTS: TWENTY TWO THOUSAND, FOUR HUNDRED, TWENTY NINE.” Judge spoke out. “SUCCESSFUL ATTEMPTS: ZERO.”

“Thus speaks the judge.” Speaker said, “My riddle has never been defeated thus far. Never.”

“Because Speaker here has to switch to a new riddle once it’s solved.” Cathida said. “As far as imperial records and logs that the old bat had access to, the furthest we’ve understood this mite pyrite is that Speaker comes up with riddles, and Judge… well, judges if the answer’s correct.”

“Why two separate entities?” I asked. “Can’t Speaker judge if it’s question is answered correctly or not already?”

“I certainly could. However, it would be most uncouth to bias the results.” Speaker said, offended. “Judge is pure of thought. It has not created my riddles, it serves as the impartial one. In the past, it used to be quite a conundrum to protect these treasures from filthy treasure-hunters such as yourself, but now alas, no amount of fairness can save you anymore. My riddle is unbeatable. UNBEATABLE.”

“ I thought you said there should be three?” I checked over the console, looking around to see if there were any settings or anything there. Just proactively.

“There are three.” Speaker answered. “But none have heard the second or third riddle, since none have defeated my first. Before you were born, I have already won. You have lost before knowing you were even playing the game.”

“... Cathida, is it me or does it sound almost gleeful?”

“You’d be utterly insufferable if you came up with a riddle nobody can ever figure out the answer to.” Cathida said. “It also never shuts up about it. Acted exactly the same way in all historical records of prior attempts.”

Yeah, that checks out.

“How many attempts do I get at this?”

“ATTEMPTS ALLOWED: ONE PER HUMAN.”

“Thus speaks the judge!” Speaker followed right after, almost screaming it out. Sounded almost like a fanatical zealot.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Or… ah. I see where this was going. The universe was conspiring against me, and now openly taunting me with what I couldn’t have: “Cathida, where are my loyal minions? Why can’t I have minions like this?” I pointed one finger at the console. “All I get is an angry old bat, an arguably insane ex-spider, and a lost Deathless who’s probably hard at work tarnishing my name.”

I took the seat and sat down deeply in it, hearing it crack ominously as the relic armor’s weight pulled down against it. To my great joy, it was the kind of chair that could even spin around. I did so, of course. “What is going on with my life that I end up like this. Where did I go wrong?”

“You went wrong the moment you stepped into this sanctum and defiled it with your filthy boots.” Speaker hissed out. “Begon, miscreant! Waste our time not!”

“No way. I’m getting out of this fortress with loot.” I said, putting a halt to the spinning. “And I’m going to get it out of your hands one way or another.”

“Very well, you may try.” Speaker said, sounding incredibly smug. “Are you prepared, thief? I shall ask three questions. All must be answered. The judge will determine if they are answered correctly. Fail any, and you shall never be allowed ano-.”

I slapped my hand on the console. “Cathida, if you please, eat a soul fractal here.”

The armor complied, nanoswarm spilling out of my armor, inscribing a small fractal on the console. I jumped into it, and reached out for the server, expecting a short but quick battle with whatever was holding my treasure chest hostage.

I was on a rowboat. Water was all around me, with a white fog lifting across the world. The terminal didn’t feel like anything like the prior terminals I’d been in. I couldn’t see anything else here besides endless white and dark nearly black water under me.

The rowboat moved on its own. No oars or anything. Slowly it moved, and something beyond the white mist began to unfold.

It was at that moment I realized I'd messed up. Relinquished was still the most massive digital construct I’d ever seen. Danger wise, this didn’t quite match up.

But it was clearly the second largest program I’ve seen thus far. Possibly larger than the Icon, although I never could tell just how large she was given how she hid her true strength. This one had no need to, and clearly didn’t care to. It looked more like a cathedral lifting upwards, and the rowboat was slowly drifting over to it.

One single glowing blue halo eye greeted me, wings stretched out to the sides, waterfalls flooded out the sides of it, filling the sea under me.

“ENTRY DISALLOWED.” It boomed. “EXILING.”

A moment later, I was back in my body, feeling like I’d been slapped.

It had quite literally netted my digital echo and yanked me out of the system with only its sheer presence, like an agrifarmer removing a parasite from their aquaponics system. Cranky, upset at being awake at some unhinged hour in the night dealing with alarms ringing out.

The slap left me feeling dazed in a way I’d never known I could feel. I found myself slowly getting my bearings back, head throbbing, not remembering anything more than staring at the massive blue ring glaring down at me.

“Keith, what happened?” Cathida asked, and I realized she’d been talking this whole time, trying to get my attention. “Your vitals nearly flatlined for a moment, Journey was about to deliver heart shocks and emergency first aid.”

I waved her off, turning my attention back at the terminal. There was only one thing on my mind I had to ask the massive guardian living within here: “If I beat your riddle, can you teach me how to slap people around in the digital sea like that?”

Whatever the treasure had was probably valuable, but a new way to kick things in the digital sea would be perfectly fine as a consolation prize if I don’t land the riddle.

“What are you up to, thief?” Speaker asked, “Sneaking into our heart, you cannot take the answers from us in this manner!”

“Nope, got that… But the lessons?”

“I shall ask the Judge. It was the one who tossed rabble like you out. Be informed, I highly doubt the judge would allow such a request. We have better things to do with our time, such as wait for another thief to make their attempt.”

“SECTORING CONDITIONS. REQUEST ACCEPTABLE.” Judge spoke.

“Thus speaks the judge!” Speaker said, “As much as I disagree, vehemently, in giving a thief anything of value, the judge’s decree is absolute! Solve the three riddles and it will teach you what you wish.”

Which includes that one unbeatable riddle, and the other two that haven’t even been seen yet. Great. “What about even if I don’t get the riddles right?”

“Then you get NOTHING! NOOOTHINGGGGG.”

I drummed my fingers over the console, debating what to try next. “Can I still ask questions after you start your riddles?”

“Ask away anything you wish, and I shall answer only what would be permitted to be answered. When you are prepared to give your own true answer, press your hand upon this part.” The center screen turned from the single line into a palm shape. The same one that had been outside the airlock. A hand palm.

“Okay, so I could ask you to start the riddle, and then ask more followups on it?”

“Certainly. Take all the time you wish, thief. You shall never succeed.”

“Okay, in that case, can you tell me the first riddle?” Time to find out what this killer riddle is all about.

“There is a line that runs through the realm of complex numbers, straight and true.” Speaker started, and I already knew where this was going the moment it said complex numbers were involved. “Upon this line, an infinite family of special points should rest. Points that hold the secret to how the prime numbers scatter throughout eternity. Trillions of these points were counted, all found where they should be. An infinite more lay beyond, uncounted.

Explain why they all belong there, and always will be.”

“That doesn’t sound like a riddle. That sounds like you’re asking for a math proof.” In fact, I knew exactly what this scrapshit was asking for: I read it in a few number theory books as trivia on unsolved math problems.

Anarii had let me peruse his old collection of books he’d amassed over the decades. Pure mathematics wasn’t exactly what Reachers prized above all else, we liked engineering and practical books more. But eccentric ones like Anarii enjoyed collecting older stuff that showed how great old humanity was. He liked to leaf through the pages and get a glimpse at what we’d once been able to come up with. Neither of us could ever understand all those books without the proper buildup and context behind all of them, but trivia like this was easy to understand on the other hand.

“Journey also confirms it’s an unanswered mathematical question,” Cathida said. “Which is something Cathida didn’t know herself back in her life.”

“It’s the Riemann Hypothesis.” I said. “Isn’t it?”

“Yep, just written up with fancy words instead.”

I groaned. No wonder this thing hadn’t been beat by anyone else.

I’d heard stories where the plucky hero would beat a game of riddles by asking a math question. Makes sense the same sword could cut the other way. Honestly, can’t fault the AI here, if I were stuck with the only goal to create a riddle nobody could get the answer to, I’d also pick math.

… And I’d also probably be insufferable and never shut up about my inevitable winning streak either. Ahem. “Objection, this is a math question, not a riddle.”

“It is a riddle.” Speaker insisted. “Noun: A question or statement intentionally phrased so as to require ingenuity in ascertaining its answer or meaning, typically presented as a game. This is a game. This is a question that requires ingenuity in discovering its answer. There is an answer that exists to be discovered. This, therefore, is a riddle. The judge has heard my argument, and has agreed with the definitions.”

“Mathematical ingenuity you dumb bastard.” Cathida hissed. “You’re skirting the whole point of riddles in the first place.”

“Not the part I want to argue.” I said, waving Cathida down. “You said there’s an answer to this. This doesn’t have one.”

“And that is my genius.” Speaker darkly chuckled now. Gloating like a villain. “I have grown weary of you dirty thieves stealing the treasures I was built to guard. My weapons were words, of any kind I could sharpen. But regardless of my attempts to discover more difficult and obscure riddles, all would inevitably be guessed. Thus I came to an epiphany: I must create a riddle none have ever solved before. While you thieves were playing around with my stolen treasures, do you know how I prepared for this moment? I learned. I know your language. Your sharpest words, the riddles that cannot be cut apart by pure wit: Mathematics. This riddle is my greatest creation. You will never succeed in taking what is mine ever again.”

“How long did it take you to figure out the answer to this riddle?”

“Forty seven years, four months, thirteen days, nine hours, fifty four minutes, seven seconds.”

“You dick.”

“I will stop at nothing to prevent thieves from taking what is mine. I have spent a great amount of effort to learn your mathematics, and even more time slowly unraveling this one question. Until I could present this new riddle with an answer that would satisfy the judge.”

Speaker was correct on one thing: I sure as hell had no hope in figuring this one out. Maybe in another life where I had the proper training and was left all the time in the world to enjoy doing math shenanigans, I’d have possibly come up with a proof for this. Right now? I knew how to stab really well, and throw occult lightning out of my hands, so who’s actually laughing in the end?

“Cathida, do we have a connection to the Icon?” A golden age AI with almost unlimited processing power might be able to crunch out a few math theories. For all I knew, maybe this had already been solved and I was reading old out-dated mathematics books.

The answer to both of those was: We don’t know. The fortress prevented any comms access, so no way to ping the Icon. And I wasn’t going to open that airlock door until I was ready to jet out of here.

“Okay, how about Journey itself? Is it capable of generating a proof for this?” I asked.

“Even if it could be persuaded to help out, which it currently isn’t wanting to do since you’re technically safer inside here and the longer it can keep you indoors the better, I don’t think it would be able to solve this kind of problem. Doesn’t have the right hardware to process that kind of mathematics.”

“Figured, but wanted to check my bases.” I said. No occult. No Icon. No relic armor. Superior also couldn’t wiggle anything out of the mites or he’d have said something, and Wrath was also out of communication range too. Though I don’t think she could have solved this one either.

“We should start seeing what else in this fortress can be taken and plan out an exit.” Cathida said. “Nobody’s figuring out this riddle anytime soon.”

“Watch me.” I said, then cracked my fingers one at a time, turning my helmet to look over at the main terminal. “Everything else aside, the only rule you really follow in all this is that I have to answer correctly, right?”

"It is as you state.” Speaker spoke. “Answer correctly, and I shall allow you to open the treasures that lay within. Fail even once, and you will be forever barred from any attempt. Feel free to wail and cry once you fail, I will allow it.”

I found a stationary pen nearby and started writing out my question along with Speaker’s word for word answer. “And can you see this pen and paper?”

“I see your movements and your little tools.”

I wrote all of that down too, clicked the pen closed, then tapped the paper with a satisfied hum.

A few clicks hissed from my gauntlets as I unhooked them a moment later. Then put my palm out on the reader and prepared to give my attempt at the riddle.

How does one manage to answer past an unsolvable riddle that technically has an answer, but quite literally nobody could ever guess it?

Easy. You don’t.

You either win by cheating or you don’t win at all. I coughed once to clear my throat, then answered the riddle correctly: “Correctly.”