The underground lab of the Mars base felt more like a sanctum than a workshop. Cold metal walls and rune-burned plates framed the chamber, while the central structure—a towering cogitator—rose like an iron cathedral spire. Pipes ran through its sides like veins, conduits blinked with slow pulses of energy, and etched patterns of runes glimmered faintly beneath the low, amber light.
Despite its imposing form, the machine was no longer what it had been. Once capable of storing vast data, coordinating defenses, and analysing threats, it had been reduced to a hollow framework. Now it could only perform basic readings and maintenance logs.
Inside the lab, all three initiates moved like anxious monks. They chanted soft, mechanical litanies—old rites of warding and purification, half-remembered verses that no one understood. Their steps were uneven, clearly a sign of their unfamiliarity. Next, they placed candles in symmetric circles, incense burning in copper bowls, and chalk sigils redrawn with solemn seriousness.
None of these steps held any real value, but Luthar still guided them through the rituals while he worked with calm precision. One by one, he removed additional blueprints and dimensional references. What remained was little more than a carefully selected set of schematics and the knowledge useful for expanding the base.
He sealed another file while the initiates finally finished the ritual for this room. They prepared to move to the next chamber to perform more rituals just as Hephaestus arrived. She stepped into the room and halted, her single eye narrowing as she took in the scene: candlelit geometry and a giant machine that looked as if it belonged on a film set.
"This doesn't look like something that could ward off demons," she said, her voice cool and faintly incredulous. "And after the enchantment I placed this time, tampering with anything inside the labs should be impossible."
Luthar didn't look up from the cogitator. "I know."
She folded her arms, observing the ridiculous number of candles arranged around the engine. "Then why are you smoking out the entire base?"
He tightened a final bolt and added a runic seal to it. "Because extra measures won't hurt."
She raised an eyebrow. "These are not measures. These are useless rituals that are wasting everyone's time."
He closed the panel without emotion. "I'm aware."
A beat of silence passed.
Hephaestus exhaled slowly. "You look like someone who doesn't know what to do next."
He said nothing, because she wasn't wrong.
The lead initiate approached, wiping perspiration from her forehead with a handkerchief. "Master Luthar," she reported earnestly, "the Rites of Sanctification are complete."
Luthar nodded with a formality that made the initiates straighten in pride. "Good. Maintain full surveillance over all key areas and continue with the expansion of the underground base."
Hephaestus closed her eye for a moment, as though recalibrating her patience.
The initiates bowed deeply and returned to their formation, lighting another ring of candles without hesitation. Their chanting resumed—soft, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.
Luthar moved along the cogitator's frame, securing the final layer of runic bindings. The machine hummed with a low sound and began working once again, though with far fewer capabilities.
"Is that the last of it?" Hephaestus asked, stepping beside him.
"For this room," Luthar replied. "The rituals may be useless, but they build discipline and cohesion. This will help them grow into proper Tech Priests."
Hephaestus didn't want to continue that topic, so she activated the device on her wrist. The soft chime echoed across the chamber. "Then we should leave. The sooner we return, the faster we can prepare for whatever demon is interested in you."
Luthar gave the chamber a final glance, then adjusted his device. "Let's go," he said quietly.
He and Hephaestus activated their devices simultaneously. No light. No flare of energy. Just a sharp displacement of air—silent, instantaneous—as their forms vanished from the room.
The lab remained behind: humming with machinery, flickering with candlelight, and filled with the hollow echoes of rituals that meant nothing…
On the other side of reality, the Nexus Gate activated once again.
Luthar and Hephaestus materialised on the circular platform beneath the Crimson Church. The black metal walls still vibrated with residual energy, vapor curling in the air like fading ghosts. Luthar stepped off the receiving platform, his boots striking the floor with measured precision as he surveyed the sub-level corridors. The air smelled of cold iron and sanctified oil.
Hephaestus deactivated her wrist device as the runes dimmed. "The return was much more stable," she observed. "Unlike the time we left and appeared in mid-air."
"That was a minor interference," Luthar answered. "Now let us confirm our timing."
She glanced at him. "You mean arriving the day after we originally departed?"
"No. I adjusted the sequence so we would arrive one day after Freya and the others returned." His tone remained matter-of-fact. "This way, she can handle the administrative chaos rather than forcing us to resolve it."
Hephaestus did not argue. It was a good decision, since this way Freya would be responsible for settling the Black Widows in the city and explaining why an entire group had entered without appearing at the public gates. The bureaucratic burden was hers, while she would simply support from the sidelines.
After confirming they hadn't arrived at the wrong time, Luthar turned toward the medical room. "I need to upload my findings so I can cross-verify for future study," he said briefly. "If there is something, you can call me."
Hephaestus nodded once. "Very well. I will check whether Freya has already settled the Black Widows and what she is planning."
Before stepping off the platform, she drew a slow breath and suppressed her divinity, making herself no different from a mortal. Only then did she move toward the stairwell. Her footsteps echoed through the chamber, fading as she ascended.
Luthar continued deeper into the facility, passing reinforced doors and humming conduits until he reached the medical chamber. The lights activated in response to his presence, illuminating polished steel, diagnostic scanners, and sealed storage units.
He removed a data cartridge from his robes and inserted it into the central terminal. Screens unfolded from the walls, displaying the latest results: cell adaptation, divine energy saturation, regenerative markers, and several anomalies yet to be classified. He initiated the transfer.
"Begin archival upload," he instructed.
The system acknowledged with a low tone, and the new information streamed into the database. The next problem had already taken shape in his mind: he did not have enough blood for further study. If it had been normal blood, replicating or cloning it would have been simple. But divine blood was made from divinity, not biology. It could not be copied or cultured.
And asking for more was out of the question. He could not treat two goddesses as sources of material to be drawn from at will.
For a moment, he even considered capturing another god, but the idea was discarded as quickly as it appeared. He had no interest in manufacturing fresh enemies.
He pushed the notion aside, collected his notes, and left the medical chamber. It was time to see whether anything significant had happened during the days he was away.
Author's note: Okay nobody is supporting with his quite depressing specially started a new story now i can't even get $60 a month. If anyone have any idea how can I improve this situation let me know.
Last 9 days I have uploaded around 7 chapter 3 chapters of TBFW 2 of TPM 2 the blessing draft chapter