The forge-lab was quiet; the only sound was formed. Faint pulses of energy moved through embedded conduits, letting everyone know this wasn't a normal place. A single reinforced observatory lens remained closed, its protective shutter dimming the last traces of daylight above.
In the heart of it, Luthar stood before the forge. Rad-robed and solemn, he watched as molten metal flowed through containment grooves, funnelled into insectile moulds. Sparks flared, hissed, and died.
Two crude Scarabs emerged from the birthing crucible, smoke still trailing from their cooling carapaces. They were knockoffs—imitations of Necron archeotech—but sufficient for his designs. They lacked the ornate inlay, the grace, and the living-metal shimmer. Yet they moved. They obeyed. That was enough.
"Activate Scarab subroutines," Luthar commanded, placing a gloved hand over the interface terminal.
With a soft chime, cables descended from the ceiling, connecting to recessed ports on the Scarabs' backs. The machines twitched—first with stutters, then with fluid, insectoid motion. Their legs clicked against the grated floor as diagnostic lights flashed across their photoreceptors. These would not be war constructs. They were not born for battle. Their function was far more sacred: to assist in transformation.
Across the chamber, the first test subjects had already been prepared. A row of surgical slabs lined the augmentation hall—each fitted with magnetic restraints and cranial interface ports. Upon them, sedated soldiers lay bare and vulnerable. Their uniforms had been incinerated. Their bodies were shaved and marked for surgery.
Luthar moved among them with the air of a high priest, more surgeon than general. He paused at each slab, inspecting musculature, bone density, and vital compatibility. Each man had once served Hydra, SHIELD, or local militaries. None had volunteered.
"Commence augmentation," he intoned.
The Scarabs reacted instantly. Thin mechanical tendrils extended with surgical tools attached—scalpels, injectors, laser cutters, and bone drills. The air filled with the scent of antiseptic mist and cauterised flesh.
The first man shuddered as his eyes were removed, replaced with adaptive ocular lenses capable of infrared vision and kinetic tracking. His limbs were cut open, and titanium braces were welded into place along the bones. His vocal cords were neutralised, rendering him permanently mute. Muscles were laced with synthfiber mesh, strengthening response time by measurable degrees.
What emerged after the first subject was no longer human in the conventional sense. Luthar observed impassively as the Scarabs completed the final sealing process, grafting an obedience node to the base of the man's spine. He was Skitarii now—half-dead, wholly obedient, a silent guardian awaiting command.
Luthar stepped back and activated the containment protocol. The slabs rotated downward, inserting the newly forged into nutrient stasis pods. Pneumatic seals hissed shut. Monitoring lights turned green. Inside the dark suspension fluid, the cyborgs floated—still, silent, waiting for purpose.
The sound of armoured boots echoed from the corridor. Luthar did not need to turn to recognise them.
"Efficient," Rumlow said, stepping into the chamber. His expression was unreadable, but a flicker of unease danced behind his eyes. "But it doesn't look good."
"You will be next," Luthar replied flatly.
Rumlow straightened. "Next for what?"
"For a new heart that does not fail. Eyes that cannot be deceived. It's time for you to go beyond natural flesh."
"I think my current enhancement is enough," Rumlow began, but his protest died as mechanical arms descended from the ceiling. Clamps seized him with impossible speed and held him aloft.
"You are valuable. I am ensuring you remain so," Luthar said.
Rumlow's scream was muffled by the auto-suppressor clamped over his jaw. Sedatives dulled the edges of his mind but could not shield him from the agony of being remade.
One of his eyes was torn from the socket, replaced with a multi-spectrum augmetic module. His rib cage cracked open to make way for a synthetic heart—its internal pump thudding out of sync until neural calibration kicked in. Bones were flayed open and reinforced with black alloy splints, and his spinal cord was spliced to accept data jacks and biofeedback regulators. Electrodes jabbed into his nervous system, overloading synapses with machine logic.
It took hours.
When the machines finally retracted and the restraints loosened, Rumlow sagged forward—convulsing, drenched in sweat, a thread of blood trailing from his nose and ears. He didn't speak. He couldn't. His mouth hung open, slack and disoriented.
Luthar stepped into view, casting a long shadow over the man.
"Congratulations on surviving."
Rumlow's one remaining organic eye fluttered open, bloodshot and wild. The augmetic eye pulsed red, scanning the chamber in rapid succession, unable to focus.
Before he could master a voice to speak, Rumlow collapsed, groaning like a wounded animal. His body no longer answered as it once did.
"Well, I guess I should have used more anesthesia next time," Luthar said.
After an hour in another chamber, three girls sat at separate desks, surrounded by guards. The atmosphere was sterile, not punitive—designed for function. Each girl had a datapad in front of her, displaying rotating schematics: rudimentary bionics, simplified chemical models, and stripped-down Xenotech codices, repackaged into digestible modules.
"You are no longer civilians," Luthar said, addressing them from the doorway. His voice echoed flatly through the room. "You are assets."
One of the girls swallowed hard. Her hands trembled over the pad, but she said nothing.
At his side stood Lily, impassive. She tapped her own device. "Initial aptitude scans are complete. The two older ones show potential for bionic assistance roles. The youngest leans toward chemical comprehension."
"Good," Luthar replied. "Refine their instruction accordingly. Segment their modules and isolate their sleeping cycles to reduce behavioural overlap."
He walked slowly between the desks. His presence was not comforting—only oppressive. To him, they were clay. Unformed. But not without potential. They could be technicians, operators, asset managers—anything but liabilities.
Near the rear of the chamber stood Kara Lin, arms folded. Her body armour looked ill-fitting now, more prison than protection. Her eyes darted toward the exit, then back to the girls.
"You dream of escape," Luthar said without turning.
Kara flinched.
"You may run," he continued. "But the spinal implant with a few micro bombs I installed inside you cannot be removed without killing you."
"Why are you keeping me here?" she asked, voice tense.
"Because you are still useful."
Lily glanced at her with something close to pity. "Come on, it's not that bad; at least it's better to work for Luther than stupid shield."
That evening, Luthar stood alone once more in his command alcove—a raised dais surrounded by hololithic displays. The forge beyond was quiet. The Scarabs were docked in maintenance alcoves, their bodies still wet with blood and lubricant.
He activated the deep recon protocol.
From concealed launch tubes buried in the upper corridors, dozens of micro-drones launched silently into the night. Each was no larger than a sparrow, coated in stealth polymers, and guided by predictive algorithms. Their orders were simple: infiltrate and acquire any data on **Pym Particle technology**.
One by one, telemetry feeds lit up across the console. Trajectories tracked toward science labs, R&D vaults, forgotten SHIELD subnodes, and even Stark Industries satellite nodes. The drones whispered through wind and shadow, unnoticed.
Luthar's eyes glimmered.
If successful, he would gain access to the key to matter manipulation. With Pym Particles, machinery could be shrunk and Reactors could be compressed. Servitors stored within coins. A forge could fit inside a lunch box.
He turned and moved toward the serum chamber.
Suspended within a cryo-vault was a plasteel cylinder filled with amber fluid. The next iteration of the serum—no longer a mimic of Erskine's design, but a synthetic, gene-reshaped formula drawn from classified SHIELD trials.
He opened the cryo-lock. A test subject was wheeled forward—a restrained SHIELD commando, half-conscious from neural dampeners.
Without ceremony, Luthar injected the serum into the man's neck.
He waited.
Spasms started within seconds. The subject writhed against the restraints, convulsing violently. Muscle density surged, neural pathways lit up, and bones creaked under strain. But then, stabilisation.
Vital signs levelled. Brain activity returned to optimal levels. Reflex scans showed marked improvement. Bone density up by seventeen per cent. Neural integration is stable at ninety-three per cent.
It was working—**partially**.
The man would likely die within seventy-two hours from systemic degeneration, but data would be logged. That was enough.
Luthar tapped a control rune. "Schedule incineration for the test body at 0200 hours. Tag data as Phase II Viability."
Moments later, Lily entered the chamber with two datapads. Her eyes were tired but precise.
"The second girl has passed the autopsy sequence. The eldest shows mild resistance. The third… hesitates."
"Accelerate her immersion. Begin visual indoctrination: surgery footage, detachment drills, and neurosystem collapse simulations."
"She's still young," Lily whispered.
"You are younger than them," Luthar replied. His voice grew colder. "If they can't adapt, they will serve in another role—perhaps as a cute maid, who can be broken and disposable."
Lily said nothing.
Another drone pinged on the console. **Target Acquired: Pym Data Vault – Subnode Q17 (Dormant). Download In Progress.**
Luthar smiled faintly. Progress.
He turned toward the forge once more, diagrams for a new drone model appearing across his console. Smaller. Smarter. Not just scouts—harvesters.
He activated the intercom.
Kara's voice crackled through. "What now?"
"Bring the girls," he said. "We begin conditioning."
A few minutes later, the girls were escorted in—led by Lily, flanked by silent servitors. Their faces were pale. Their steps are reluctant. They stopped at a designated white line on the floor, eyes wide as they looked at the Skitarii pods behind Luthar—at the monsters they would one day help construct.
"You have been chosen," Luthar said. "Not for your pasts, but for what you can become. You will serve the Machine God."
He held out three slim injectors. "Memory catalysts. They will accelerate your learning—at a cost. Hallucinations. Amnesia. Identity degradation. Acceptable losses."
He handed them to Lily.
For a long moment, Lily hesitated.
Then, with slow precision, she turned and injected each girl in turn. One by one, they collapsed.
Servitors moved forward, lifting them gently and carrying them toward the indoctrination chambers. Their minds would now absorb programming not through logic but through synthetic dreaming, neural flooding, and simulated trauma.
Lily stood silently afterwards, holding the spent injectors.
"Was there no other way?" she asked. "It feels like… brainwashing."
Luthar did not answer. His gaze was fixed on the console, where blueprints for his next advancement blinked into focus.
They were ready.
And the forge was never silent.
---
Author's long note for a long chapter: When writing about the tech priest, I am writing too much about creation and discovery for the character. It's ok, but for the novel, it's quite bad. In the next chapters, I am going to switch to Hulk then Thor and try to keep the creation to a minimum.
You know I just purchased new headphones so I can get better voice typing, but even those stop working. This time, I'm preparing to buy a new phone as this one's screen has lots of Ghost typing. Basically, machine spirits are quiet and happy with me as I have not written about them. The last thing I want to know is that every time I upload on Sunday, I get around 5 subscribers, but last Sunday, I only got one. Is there any special reason, or do you think I am going in the wrong direction?
If anyone wants to know what Paid members are getting, they at least have 45 chapters ahead, as chapter 165 was just uploaded.
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