Artificer observed an amniotic tank suspended in a force field in the middle of an empty storage room. Through the tank’s transparent glass, he saw swirling motions of a green nutrient solution and occasional movements of the carapace, showing from deep within the green sea. Noticing a claw scratching against a glass, Artificer finally decided to come clear and called Lada.
“Artificer, it’s four o’clock!” The ghostly apparition rose from the floor, forming a woman’s figure in a white dress, yawning jokingly. “Did something happen?”
“I need a fresh perspective. You know about Rho’s biological armors?” Artificer asked her without turning from the glass. His sensors caught a faint heartbeat from within the tank.
“The pride and joy of their defensive line? Yep, why?”
“I tried to replicate one.” Artificer nodded at the tank. Argus, despite all Artificer’s pleading, never agreed to reveal full knowledge of his company’s biological and virological knowledge to the government, leading to the AI trying, so far in vain, to uncover these secrets. In theory, he could have broken into Rhos’ mainframe and stolen everything he needed, but this would void his friendship with Argus, and there were some lines even Artificer had chosen not to cross. He had seen it many times before. A simple step too far, for the betterment of all, of course. You keep on going, nothing wrong has happened, right? As the process continues, dictatorship inevitably emerges. “And accidentally created a life.”
“Isn’t this the whole point?” Lada flowed closer to the tank.
Rho’s biological armor was unique compared to normal power armor.. You either had to feed it by injecting a small feeding solution, which ended up being cheaper than most energy capsules for the power armor, or it could recover some of its energy via photosynthesis. Like power armor made of nanomachines, biological armor too healed itself at a steady pace, allowing for continuous use in the military campaign. It could even establish a connection between units, thanks to a biological computer, and produce an actual HUD on a soldier’s retina. In all senses of the word, it was a living organism, costing quite a credit.
“A real life, Lada,” Artificer admitted with an annoyance at his mistake. “Whatever mess I’ve created will have a brain, in time, and is already sprouting limbs and claws. To tell the truth, its growth process is exceeding my initial predictions by a large margin. At this point, I am no longer sure what it will end up being. So my question is: should we dispose of it?”
“No,” Lada immediately responded, turning to look at him. “Congratulations on becoming a daddy, Arty. You’ve given him or her life, now own it and raise them properly.”
“Lada, please look at the situation logically. Rho’s biological armors are insect-based. Neither you nor I can guarantee that this being will be harmless or that it could even understand human speech or emotions. For now, its brain is still being formed. Technically, this is just a lump of flesh.” Artificer stopped to look at how another dreadful-looking claw scratched against the armor-glass surface before disappearing within green waters. Both he and Lada used the devices within the wall’s room, trying to find even a hint of brainwaves. Nothing, simply null. These movements were merely accidental reflexes, produced by the cellular growth. “Do we have a right to expose other people to the potential danger that this thing…”
“It’s not a thing, Artificer!” Lada snapped, downloading the specs of his experiment and meticulously checking every calculation, trying to find a flaw in it. His and her minds became one, joining the outputs of their processors for this task. “Whoever this may become, he or she is a living being. If you can’t take the responsibility of raising your accident offspring, just say it. I’ll take over. But don’t you dare give in to unfounded fears. Can’t guarantee that they will be harmless… Ha! As if you can guarantee such a thing with a regular child! If Iterna can keep actual sand reapers in our zoos, then I am sure we can deal with the little one without violence, should the worst come to pass.” She pressed her palm against the glass, and something within the tank shifted, a claw scratched against the surface, no doubt carried by the nutrient solution. “See? The little one agrees.”
“It looked more like it tried to bisect your hand in two,” Artificer replied drily. “In any case, it doesn’t have a brain yet. You are projecting your superstitions onto a sack of flesh. Think based on the available data for once.”
“Don’t listen to the nasty daddy, little one,” Lada cooed to the tool floating inside the nutrient solution, tracing the claw with her finger. “I know that you’ll grow up to be an okay person. Nope, better than okay, an excellent person! So don’t you dare worry about a thing, just concentrate on growing and relax!” Almost as if in response to her words, the claw disappeared back into the murky waters.
Emotional, like always. Artificer broke the connection, observing his creation in the solitude of his own mind. Lada’s perspective could be invaluable at times, but her insistence on saving every single life might lead to drastic events transpiring in the future. What if this being combines a genius’ intellect with the mind of an insect, unbounded by the human nature of morality and empathy? What untold devastations could this being cause in that hypothetical scenario? Does he truly have a right to take this kind of risk? With just a single command, Artificer can see this amniotic tank being flushed out, its contents burned away in a searing, cleansing flame. No brain, no sentience. This would not even count as a murder. Just… A prevention.
A distress signal stopped him in his tracks. The frames that he had sent to liberate the mine came under attack. The VIs whom he had assigned to these frames now reported to him, transmitting updates layered with a mix of wailing pain at the loss of their brethren and burning shame at the inevitable failure. Artificer activated the generators across his base, creating a surge of energy big enough to make Lada worried. He ignored her request and instead established a dimensional channel with the VIs.
Artificer first discovered this technology two centuries ago in his pursuit of a better understanding of quantum mechanics and the applications of some of abnormals’ powers. Alternative dimensions were no longer a theory, they were a proven fact, thanks to some abnormals being able to tap into them or open doors to them outright. Deadly to most humans, because of laws of nature working differently there, Artificer made his own theory and tested it. By concentrating a sufficient amount of energy in one place and operating it like a needle’s tip, he had opened a doorway leading to a dimension where space had no meaning. Using this dimension, he could open a connection between two or more points at a cost of impressive energy, transmitting data and information in an instant. And this is exactly what he has done now, connecting his mind to the minds of Lada’s children.
He saw him—the one who killed Iterna’s citizens. A towering mass of muscles, his flesh looking like rough armor plates, his fingers are busy breaking off limbs of a helpless frame in his hand. The being’s meters-long tail, ending with the snake head, hit like a whip, splitting a nearby frame in two. Artificer felt the sheer horror and grief of the other VIs at the knowledge that their sister was about to die. The moment the snake’s fangs reach the core and disable her processor, the VI will no longer exist.
VIs could not download themselves. Once assigned frames by either Lada or Artificer, they lived their lives as citizens, working for Iterna’s betterment. Their limited computing abilities had not allowed them to utilize their innate control over nanomachines in full, allowing them to either become a liquid or spread themselves in the air to avoid the incoming damage. For all intents and purposes, they were simply another abnormals who lived in Iterna, with their own dreams and hopes, viewing each other as family.
And Artificer was not. The snake tail moved fast, the shockwave created by its movement has torn the ground surface, turning chunks of stone into dust. But however fast it could move, to someone operating via quantum computing, it barely crawled. And so, the AI downloaded all the VIs left on the battlefield, leaving just the two who were helping people escape.
Artificer felt their shock at entering a digital space, at feeling his thoughts merge with theirs. To change a frame, a VI would have to take their processor out and place it into a new steel body. This feeling for them felt as if someone had torn out something they never knew they possessed—their souls—and taken it to a paradise.
“Father,” they said with divine reverence, the warmth of their love energizing his coils. He felt their confusion at being alive and existing without their processors. “We have no excuses for our failure.”
“I am not your father,” he responded to them kindly, carefully exposing them to the vastness of his intellect. “I merely created your parts and assembled your mainframes. Lada is your mother. And there was no failure, brave soldiers of Iterna. You have saved lives. Now it is time to deliver retribution.”
The VIs expected to be abandoned in the virtual space or being sent to Lada. Artificer opened more and more channels, connecting himself to the processor of every remaining frame on the battlefield, taking control over the emergency repair nanomachines at the core of each frame, sending schematics, explanations, and integrating the VIs into his strategy. Once done, they get to work.
Fifty frames, a force enough to conquer any city outside of Iterna, had half their number decimated. Two were escorting people to safety, hidden behind some weird anomaly. Two more were getting destroyed by the foe. Twenty-one remained operational. Artificer made them come next to each other, huddling like a scared herd. Their corpora broke open, revealing whipping wires and servo muscles that shot out, entwining with each other like living lianas. The metal of the frames flowed, being disassembled by the emergency repair nanomachines before being reforged into a new form. Initial processors, weapons, and generators disappeared, giving place to something entirely different… and far more powerful.
Artificer stood up on this battlefield, the VIs are in his new body, inhabiting his gigantic limbs, controlling the deadly weapons of destruction, and serving him as eyes and ears. All of them, united as one, stood within a towering metal frame eight meters tall, its weight so great that the ground groaned beneath them. The frame had the shape of a knight in regal armor. A deep blue covered every inch of its meters-thick armor plates, aside from a brilliant Iterna’s golden tree on the frame’s chest. A plasma generator came online, and with it, their multitude of weapons woke up.
Barrels of rail guns came from their shoulders, taking aim at their foe. Analytical systems soon followed, calculating the probable speed of their foe. High-frequency sonic emitters finished being assembled in their arms. On their back have appeared and activated several arrays of missile launchers.
“The prototype frame is fully online. Elite Artificer is here,” he said.
“It’s time for round two, fucker!” the VIs bellowed, and Artificer has allowed them this small vulgarity, feeling their excitement at the prospect of meting out justice for their fallen comrades.
The horse-faced being had finally deemed it worthy to notice his new foe. Crumping a broken frame in his hand, he retreated to the side, evading a rail gun shot that flew through the mine behind it. For a fraction of a second, the mine stood still, a single round hole marked its walls. Then it exploded upward, sending pieces of stone to the skies and collapsing on itself under the pressure of the shockwave that followed in the shot's wake. The projectile itself sprinted toward the horizon, creating a canyon of destruction across the ground.
“Forgive me, father,” the VI in charge of the rail gun whispered.
“I am not your father, ensign,” Artificer chastised her, incorporating all VIs better and improving their perceptions. It felt… unique, sharing his worldview with the lesser beings. He and Lada should definitely try to experiment more with this mode in the future, the VIs adapted to new circumstances spectacularly. “Call me Artificer of the Elite. And there were no mistakes made by any of you. Our dance has just begun. Through the empirical method, we studying our foe. And once his limits are known, we end him.”
Their rail guns spoke, weapons that could lay waste to a city block only left fist-sized wounds on the creature’s hide. Because of the need for speed, Artificer had created mostly physical projectile weapons, not the searing energy beams. Still, he felt surprised, seeing the massive body before him weaving around the shots, clapping his hands to create a shockwave strong enough to detonate the missiles they have sent at it. The durability and speed of this foe have reminded him of his scrambles with Ravager or Devour, the gruesome battles of the past where they had leveled entire mountains.
Only this time he was not in his combat frame but in a hastily assembled prototype, whose specs paled in comparison to the all-purpose Artificer frame mark XII and whose systems were yet to be tested in the field. The horse-faced man reached them, punching with his left hand. One of the VIs acted ahead of Artificer, striking forth with a bubble of energy shield that arrested the incoming punch.
“Quick thinking!” Artificer praised him and allowed his pride to reach the minds of the others. “Eradicate him.”
They fired every single cannon at their foe from point blank, causing him to bleed from dozens of new wounds. Noticing that the shots were struggling to penetrate the outer tissues, Artificer brought their arms up, landing two solid uppercuts against the ugly-looking maw.
Their opponent’s head jerked back, remaining unbroken despite enduring a force equivalent to seven thousand tons of TNT. Immediately he brought his head back, grinning into the featureless visor of their head. And broke his hand free, plunging his fist into their chest.
Artificer struggled to compute just what he was witnessing. The energy field that has encompassed their foe’s hand could fully contain a one megaton nuclear bomb. To break free and still have enough energy behind the initial impulse to break their armor plates… This has easily put their opponent into an S-class category of abnormals.
Landing two more earth-shattering punches at his opponent’s neck to no avail, Artificer found this development incredible. Lord Steward, Devourer, Lightbringer, Wyrm Lord, and Hive were the only known S-class abnormals alive in this day and age. Above them were S-plus, Artificer (mostly depending on his frame), Ravager, and, of course, Dominator. Only one rank was above S-plus: the apocalypse class to which Eugenia and Outsider belonged, although their abilities were artificially weakened to ensure that neither could destroy the world.
Iterna always kept a watchful eye on any possible S-class abnormals, viewing them as too dangerous to be left alone after Ravager had caused quite a problem for the surrounding areas during her battle with Mad Hatter and Blood Graf. They were, for all intents and purposes, weapons of mass destruction, not dangerous enough to warrant united joint efforts to contain them, like apocalypse classes, but far too dangerous to be left without supervision. To find one here, on a patch of land between Iterna and the Desolation, was… almost a miracle. How could he hide for so long?
No matter. The target stood before them, and they will see it going down. Their arms grasped the abnormal by his sides, finding their power insufficient to break the ribs. Calmly, Artificer gave the order to activate the sound cutters.
For the first time in their fight, their opponent groaned from pain, feeling his insides shaking violently after high-frequency sound waves, intended to break molecular bounds between matter, were unleashed into his sides with a direct focus at the being’s heart. Not only his capillaries, but all other blood vessels should have burst when the blood suddenly flowed backward, toward the heart, redirected by the vibrations. Blood has appeared on the abnormal’s lips. With almost genuine disbelief on his snout, the abnormal licked off the blood and bleated a wordless cry of rage, following it with an assault.
He grabbed them by the elbows, snapping their joints as if they were nothing. His tail bit at their head, and Artificer heard the brief sound of collapsing armor glass before the last of the sound receptors went off line. A violent kick broke their leg, and then the horse-faced abnormal tore their chest wide open, reaching for the plasma reactor within. Knowing what will happen next, Artificer took the Vis and opened a channel to the satellite above them, downloading their consciousness via a secured quantum transmission channel. From up there, they observed, through the satellite optical zoom system, how the giant’s hands closed on the reactor.
It exploded, basking him and everything within two kilometers in raging plasma. Thankfully, the survivors were carried to safety, while a truly titanic wrath ravaged everything else, bulging the ground downward, reducing hills and stones to molten liquid, and silencing all with a roaring explosion heard from many miles away. Immediately, the high command sent request after request, demanding an explanation for this cataclysm happening near Iterna’s border. Artificer responded, presenting the command with the full picture, and kept watch along with the VIs.
“He is dead, right?” One of them asked.
“The area is engulfed in a full-blown plasma eruption. Of course, the bastard is dead! The temperature out there is enough to ionize a mountain!” The other answered bashfully, using his systems to calculate the approximate temperature. Artificer sent her an encouraging signal, encouraging the woman and the others to use his components at their leisure.
The VIs gasped, seeing how the fury receded and their foe was still standing, deep within a crater, with the crater’s walls turned to glass. Fully naked and devoured of all hair, but otherwise unharmed. His wounds were cauterized. The burned edges had already healed, and new gray skin appeared above the damaged areas. His snake tail hissed, enduring ecdysis and shedding the damaged skin. The abnormal threw his hands to the skies, unleashing a wordless triumphant roar before laughing.
“Have you seen this, God?! I took down an Elite! The fabled Artificer was broken by my might! I turned him into junk! Horseface stands triumphant! First Artificer, then Lightbringer and Eugenia, and then Iterna! For your eternal glory, I’ll scorch that entire miserable country off this world!”
“He endured rail guns. He endured vibrations. And plasma. Just how can we take the bastard down?” The female VI asked in disbelief.
“Don’t fret! Vibrations work, we just didn’t apply enough of them. Perhaps a virus will do better? Or radiation? Or how about teleporting him into space, far enough away that he’ll choke without air? He is speaking and breathing. Clearly he needs air to live,” another VI suggested, not a hint of fear in his voice, just eagerness at solving the problem.
Junk? Artificer thought coldly, and the VIs stopped their heated discussion, feeling fresh surges of information coming to them. The vault beneath his base has opened, and the frame within has clenched its fists, testing the working of the fibers of the servo-muscles. Weapon array after weapon array reported their readiness, many military installations within Iterna’s territory aimed their instruments of destruction at this foe, resonating with a slowly boiling rage in Artificer’s mind and preparing to bring about a true end. The anti-matter generator started working, pumping energy through his machine body.
You want an Elite? I’ll give you an Elite. His cold fury overflowed him. This barbarian dared to threaten Iterna? He dared threaten to destroy everything Artificer had helped build to end all lives under Artificer’s protection? He dared to threaten Eugen…
“Artificer, stand down.” The command contacted him, informing him that this Horserace sprinted in the opposite direction from Iterna.
Looking at him, Artificer forced himself to be calm. It would have taken him less than an hour to fly from Iterna and catch up with this murderous bastard. But… He calmed himself. A battle between S-classes could be a truly cataclysmic event. A battle to the death between S-classes could spell doom for entire countries. Even worse, it could attract Ravager, and frankly speaking, Eugenia had enough problems to deal with without an oversized furry trying to chomp through her bones.
He obeyed the Iternian high command and cancelled the maximum readiness of all defensive systems, allowing his frame to rest beneath his base. Horseface mentioned some God. Strange coincidence. In the past, back when they rescued the second-known apocalypse class, there was a group worshipping some nameless god whose aim was to use the poor fellow to destroy humanity. And there were some similar coincidences in various parts of the world. Of course, it all could just be the product of a slew of doomsday cults. But he had his doubts.
Adding the new S-class abnormal, Artificer addressed the VIs, carrying them to the base along with his conscience.
“Come. We have friends and comrades to mourn and new bodies to make.”
Horseface? I’ll remember the name. Any who threaten Iterna shall soon find himself unable to threaten anyone ever again.
****
Hina stumbled out of this weird vehicle, leaving the soldiers to sort out the slaves. The giants of steel brought them far away from the battle, carrying them for nearly an hour, before landing them on a green plain, letting out people, changing back, and standing aside, promising that ‘help’ will arrive soon. Hina could care little of them, ignoring any offers of food or medical help from people whom she now knew as mercenaries.
Her eyes locked on the one and only person who mattered. Regina. The woman sat on a crate. Two of her people were busy working on her destroyed limbs. Before the Naturalborn’s surprised eyes, the mercenary pulled out the destroyed arm from the ruined shoulder, leaving an empty socket in its place. A new, identical-looking arm replaced the lost limb, and Regina groaned when her people pushed the arm into the socket. Her new fingers twitched, and a smile came upon the leader’s face as she clenched her reborn fist.
“Hey there, girl, find yourself a place to sit. The police should arrive soon.” Regina waved Hina with a new arm. Noticing her look, Regina’s smile grew wider. “Like my chrome? Since I owe you the hides of my men, we can make you into a statue of steel and wire. Impeccable feeling, trust me on that.”
“And no longer any problem with your teeth,” grumbled the oversized mercenary, taking off his helmet and showing an oval sphere serving him for a head.
Hina shuddered. She knew outlanders considered her kind monsters. But this? Now this was the true monstrosity. To replace one’s veins with oil and energy, forfeiting forever the ability of feeling wind, smell, taste, or touch… No, the outlanders truly were cattle for giving up something so precious so easily. Ignoring the large mercenary, Hina stood up before Regina on trembling legs, hating the pain that wormed its way into her knees.
“You owe me, this much is true. And I call the debt! Kill me, painlessly,” the Naturalborn demanded, both with fear and desire. Fear of being refused. Desire for a freedom she had longed for so long. Being reborn and having another chance to make things right.
“Beg your pardon…” Regina stopped, feeling Hina’s hands at the gorget of her armor.
Hina felt metal crumbling beneath her fingers, refusing to let go and refusing to stay afraid of the nearby mercenaries. Freedom! She won’t be cheated out of a way out or out of a destiny meant for her!
“Don’t beg, do,” Hina hissed into the mercenary’s face. “Your… kind works for a payment, right? I paid you by saving you! You owe me, so give me,” she stuttered, feeling the eyes of everyone on her and hearing approaching sirens, “give me a painless death. Please…” she begged, seeing nothing in the woman’s eyes—no anger, no fear, just calmness. “I can’t… stay like this.”
Regina nodded and pointed a gun at the Naturalborn’s face. A single blue flash struck Hina, and she saw no more.
