Fara tore into the scrap pile with fervent zeal, throwing bits and pieces around and laying them out on the ground, “Okay, so, with this stuff, we can make some fun toys,” she said, smiling wildly, “So, what should I make, Mori?” Fara asked, turning to Mori.

Mori looked around, eying the staging bay to scope out the area they were working with. Her gaze then fell onto one of the Talonecs, who was standing off to the side with their rifles held high, “Fara, why is it that the Forgeheart gets so many large Clockworks?” Mori asked, “Why are we still stuck with infantry?”

Fara looked at the Talonecs, their Greek-esque helmets and sloped armor diving at odd angles, with an appraising eye, “Well, it was because they cost a bunch, but… since we’ve got an infinite supply of metal and parts on our doorstep… So, what do you want to bring into the world?” she asked.

Mori thought for a moment. Her Talonecs did not have much of a weakness, really. They had superb mobility, superb firepower, thick armor, and could regenerate. They could dismantle thick armor without taking casualties, but something bugged her. It took minutes for a group of Talonecs to destroy a single armored Clockwork. The only reason why her forces were winning was because the Clockworks were being sent in groups of fifty, facing a force six times their number. Those armored Clockworks took far too long to kill for Mori’s liking. She would have many, many troops following her during their final assault, but few of the skiffs could follow. Those factors combined made a need for armored, extremely hard-hitting undead. One that she was thankful to have noticed before it was too late and her children were left without help.

She sighed, thinking about what kind of design would work, “Fara, what did you guys do for the floating… drones? Actually, what’d you guys name those things?”

Fara smiled, “We didn’t name them yet. We wanted you to, since you have such a good naming sense,” she replied. Mori could have sworn that there was a sarcastic edge in her voice, but she could not find it. Eventually, Fara laughed, “I could almost see your suspicion, there. Actually, I could… your armor turns into a tangle of angry snakes and starts to try and slither towards me. It’s kinda weird. But, anyway, you wanted to know about the anti mass thrusters?”

Mori stared for a moment, “I’m sorry, what? Anti mass? Fara, what the hell are you talking about?” Mori could have sworn that such a thing was so far out of reach for the people of Granulous that it was impossible to conceptualize, but she was dealing with Fara, after all. Even worse, Fara with the help of an extradimensional, divine-born inventor and a sapient supercomputer.

“Oh yeah,” Fara said offhandedly, “VII told me about that anti mass stuff, that pushes away from large masses. It’s really cool. I can put a few small mana thrusters in the back and viola! Flight. Problem with it needs some sort of ritual. Something about the stars. So, we only have so much for the next… I dunno, fifty years?”

Mori stared at Fara, “You know what? I’m not going into the numerous, numerous, things I could ask. Instead, I’ll just assume that we can’t use it in the heavy armor desi-...” Mori paused, “That’s it… Heavy armor! Fara, remember one of the names for the Talonecs? Necromechs?” Fara nodded slowly, “Well, why don’t we make the Talonec Mark Two, the Necromech? It’ll be a large, squat mech with a lot more weapons, and maybe some interesting new power that I can come up with, like a shield, and it can be the main armored unit.” She hopped up and down in excitement, whipping her head to Fara, “Can you make something like that?”

Fara, smiling, scoffed, “Mori, I was already making a design the second you started making sense. I have something in mind. Remember the two prototypes? Foursy One and Foursy Two? How about something like that, but scaled up? And better?”

Mori nodded, joy almost dripping from her form, “That’s an amazing idea! But, now we’ve got to run it by VII and ATHENA. Welp, no time to waste. Let’s go!” Mori declared, grabbing Fara and running out of the bay.

A moment later, Fara broke from her trance at being suddenly dragged along and tapped Mori on the shoulder, “What about the mess?” Fara asked.

Mori skidded to a halt, running back to the bay to order her Talonecs to bring the scrap to a side room. She then ran back with haste, making it to ATHENA’s core room in just a minute. When they got there, ATHENA had been waiting for them, “Before you exhaust yourself any more, if that is possible, I heard your plan. And I am in total agreement. Come on, then, let’s build this new unit.”

Mori and Fara dove into the work, making small talk as ideas were thrown out, brought in, and flowed like rivers. It was the same work, but the fervor she and Fara put into the project reminded her of her younger days, studying in the Kharon. Granted, she still did that, and those younger days were not exactly far behind her, but she was a lich; she could feel old if she wanted to, since she would have eternity to feel that way.

*=====*

Prime felt something. Something awful. It was like a burning pit in his pipes, like the fire that burned at the center of his body, but everywhere. It would not go away and trying to take his mind off of the feeling only made it worse. It nearly consumed him, engulfing his mind in utter wrath. He observed the fortress, standing defiant despite his gradual pushing. It was a mockery of everything he had tried to accomplish over the previous month and it irked him to no end.

But he could deal with that. It was of little concern about how long it would take for the soldiers to break. The same could not be said about what had intruded upon his domain. It was his, once, but it had been taken. Turned into a weapon against him. He could feel it spread its malignant mana all over within its soldiers. His troops were smashed, torn to shreds, and he hated it. It was one thing if they were killed outside of the fortress, since that was what he wanted, but it was entirely different when a group of filthy necromechanical puppets made a mockery of him.

It was a personal insult. It had to be. If not, why was there a legion of creatures made from the combination between Kel’rk’ath and En’gem’ia? Not to mention her presence. It burned within him. He could almost feel her, how she led the disgusting army. He hated watching that once-beautiful symbol of his defiance against his warden house that very same warden.

He was preparing something. Something that could sate his bloodlust. Something that could finally destroy that woman for good. He almost regretted giving her the heart of her sister back, since he could have tortured the creature within to lure out his warden. He almost regretted it, anyway. There was no need for regret. He was destined to be the ruler of all reality; there was no way some small mistake like that needed his attention.

His destiny aside, he focused on his newest project. He had not gotten enough living sapients-- or at least not enough to make headway on his project-- but he was able to design something different. He had been experimenting on different designs and had developed something far more dangerous than he had predicted.

He ran a few tests and developed two models. One was a combination between headhunter units and crasher units while the other was a combination between headhunter and scout units. They were far more effective infantry than most of his other units, with the notable exception of his Guardian units, but, unlike those behemoths, the hybrid units could be mass produced. They were good troops, ones that he could use to swarm those infuriating necromechanical creatures.

With the plans for the necro-counters set in stone, he shifted his wrathful gaze to his dockyard. As expected, the place had been leveled. Again. For the fifth time. He was just about done with the fish people who kept destroying the place. He had tried nearly everything in his power to stop them, as well. He had stationed a Goliath just outside of the dock, but the whole place was destroyed before it could respond to the threat.

He was just about done with trying to preserve the place. He, in his immense processing power, resolved himself to blow the fish sky high. He planned a new dock type, one where he could cause the entire place to explode with a single, decisive thought. It would trap the annoying fish, and he could finally figure out how boats worked.

Quickman

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