The air in the Goblin Factory tasted of copper and burning flesh. The Scrap King lay dead, his massive magnetic suit fused into a twisted lump of slag. Around him, the dungeon's silence was heavy, broken only by the whimpers of the freed slaves—dozens of players who had been chained to the grinding wheels for days.
Zhuge stood amidst the survivors, his white robes spotless thanks to a wind barrier. He looked like a messiah descended from the heavens. Atlas, on the other hand, was kneeling in the mud next to the corpse, prying a heavy servo-motor loose with a crowbar he'd fashioned from a piece of scrap.
"The loot distribution," Zhuge said, his voice low so the survivors wouldn't hear. "We need to settle it before the dungeon closes."
Atlas didn't look up. Snap. He ripped the [Ferrous Magnet] off the Boss's arm. "The deal was 50/50," Atlas said, his voice muffled by his lizard-skull mask. "But I'm altering the terms."
Zhuge's eyes narrowed. The two wind-sylphs behind him raised their spears. "You want more?"
"I want less," Atlas corrected. He stood up, holding the heavy magnet in one hand and the [Steam Power Blueprint] in the other. "I take these. I take the scrap metal lying on the floor. And I take the Glock slide."
"And the rest?" Zhuge asked, confused. "The Gold? The Magic Crystals? The Fame reward for clearing the First Dungeon?"
"Yours," Atlas said. He pointed his crowbar at the huddle of weeping players. "Look at them. They are weak. Traumatized. If I take them, I have to feed them. I have to house them. They are a resource drain." Atlas stepped closer to Zhuge. "But you... you run an Alliance. You need legitimacy. You need to be the Hero."
Atlas gestured to the room. "You killed the Scrap King. You freed the slaves. You are the benevolent savior, Zhuge. I was never here."
Zhuge stared at him. The sheer pragmatic coldness of the offer stunned him. In this game, Fame converted directly into Faith Points. Atlas was giving away a fortune. "Why?" Zhuge asked. "Why hide?"
"Because heroes get targeted," Atlas whispered. "I prefer to be the vendor selling ammo to the heroes."
Atlas turned to Cavedweller, who was trying to loot a pair of boots from a dead goblin. "Grab the scrap, Vassal. We're leaving."
The Workshop of Mud and Iron
Returning to the island felt different this time. Before, it was a desperate survival shelter. Now, with tons of refined steel scrap and a functioning blueprint, it felt like a Foundry.
Atlas dumped the loot onto the mud. [Item: High-Grade Magnet (Rank D)][Item: Steam Power Blueprint (Rank D)][Item: 500kg of Scrap Steel (Various Sources)]
"Cavedweller," Atlas barked. The Kobold jumped. "Yes, Master?" "You have the [Smelting] skill. Can you cast shapes? Not just ingots. Complex shapes. Cylinders. Pistons."
Cavedweller hesitated, then nodded. "If... if the mold is good. And the heat is high enough. But we only have charcoal."
Atlas looked at the Bio-Battery humming near the throne. The Kobold inside was nearly dead—drained to a husk. "We need a better furnace," Atlas decided. "And we need a better engine."
He unrolled the [Steam Power Blueprint]. The System interface projected a holographic schematic into the air. It was a standard, Victorian-era reciprocating engine. Boiler. Piston. Flywheel. Efficiency: 15%.Power Output: Medium.
"Garbage," Atlas scoffed. "If I build this, I'm just recreating the 1800s. I have the Earth Database. I can do better."
He sat on the throne and closed his eyes. "System. Fiction Realization."
He needed a concept that merged Steam with his existing Clay/Biology tech. Steamboy? Too complex. Mortal Engines? Too big. Warhammer 40k? The Mechanicus.
"The Machine Spirit," Atlas mused. "But biologically... let's go with Bioshock." "Specifically, the Big Daddy (Bouncer Model). Not the drill, but the chassis. A pressurized deep-sea diving suit driven by hydraulics and steam."
[Analyzing Concept: Pressurized Armored Exoskeleton.][Compatibility Check:]
Frame: Steel (Available).
Muscles: Hydraulic Pistons (Steam driven).
Armor: Hardened Ceramic (Clay + Heat).
Power Source: Boiler + ? [Missing Component: High-Density Fuel.]
"I can't use coal," Atlas realized. "Coal is heavy and burns dirty. I need something that burns hot and fast." He looked at his C4-Dolls. They were literally made of Explosive Clay. "If I feed a C4-Doll... into the furnace... bit by bit..."
A twisted smile formed under his mask. "Controlled detonation. An Internal Combustion Engine, but instead of gasoline, I'm injecting explosive golem flesh."
"System. Modify Blueprint. [The Ceramic Centurion]."
[Cost: 200 Origin Points (All earned from Dungeon).][Drafting Schematic...]
The Construction: Day 3
For the next twenty-four hours, the island was a hellscape of noise and heat.
Cavedweller worked until his hands bled. He built a blast furnace using the clay and the Wind Stones (traded from Zhuge) to bellow air into the fire. They melted the Scrap King's armor. They cast the steel into heavy, skeletal limbs. They wrapped the steel in thick layers of white clay, firing it in the kiln until it became Ceramic Plate—harder than stone, heat-resistant, and white as bone.
Then came the wiring. Atlas installed the Vacuum Tubes. He didn't have enough for a complex brain yet. He built a "Spinal Column" of glass tubes down the back of the machine. Logic: Balance. Target. Walk.
Finally, the Heart. Atlas placed the High-Grade Magnet in the chest cavity, surrounded by copper coils. Behind it, he installed the Boiler.
It was finished. Standing ten feet tall, the Centurion looked like a bulky, headless knight. Its armor was thick white ceramic, charred black around the exhaust vents on its shoulders. Its arms ended not in hands, but in heavy, three-fingered hydraulic clamps. In the center of its chest, a glass porthole revealed the copper coils and the magnet.
"It's a statue," Cavedweller whispered, terrified and awed. "It has no soul."
"It doesn't need a soul," Atlas muttered, wiping grease from his hands. "It needs fuel."
Atlas whistled. A small, dog-sized C4-Doll scuttled over. Atlas picked it up. It didn't struggle. It was mindless. He opened the hatch on the Centurion's back—the "Stomach." He shoved the C4-Doll inside.
"Ignition."
Atlas sparked his broken Riot Stick (using the last dregs of charge) against the intake valve. WHOOSH.
Inside the Centurion, the C4-clay caught fire. But it didn't explode all at once. The chamber was designed to choke the oxygen, forcing a slow, high-pressure burn. Steam hissed violently from the shoulder vents. The pressure gauge spiked. The Magnet spun.
HUMMMMM.
The copper coils glowed bright blue. Electricity flooded the system. The Vacuum Tubes on the spine lit up, flickering in sequence. Click. Click. Click.
The Centurion shuddered. Hydraulic fluid (water mixed with slime) rushed into the pistons. The ten-foot giant took a step forward. THUD. The ground shook.
[System Alert: New Unit Created.][Name: Steam-Ceramic Centurion (Mark I).][Rank: D+][Power Source: Nitroglycerin-Clay Combustion.][Stats: STR (High), INT (Low), DEF (Very High).]
Atlas walked up to the machine. He had to crane his neck to look at the chest porthole. "System. Interface."
He accessed the Logic Core. Currently, it was running on "Driver Mode"—waiting for manual input. "I can't pilot it," Atlas realized. "I need it to be autonomous. But the Vacuum Tubes are too simple for AI."
He looked at his inventory. He had one item left from the very beginning. [Minor Soul Core] (Looted from the first Rat wave). He had never used it.
"A soul provides instinct," Atlas theorized. "The tubes provide logic. If I bridge them..."
He opened the chest panel. He placed the glowing blue Soul Core directly onto the spinning magnetic dynamo. Fiction Realization: Ghost in the Shell. "Merge."
ZAP. A spark of violet energy arced from the Soul Core into the Vacuum Tubes. The machine stopped shaking. The hissing of steam quieted to a rhythmic breath. The blue light in the chest port turned... Red.
The Centurion turned its torso. It looked at Cavedweller. Cavedweller shrieked and hid behind the blast furnace. Then it looked at Atlas. It slowly lowered its massive body to one knee. The hydraulic pistons hissed in submission.
[Anomaly Detected.][Unit has developed: Machine Spirit (Rudimentary).][Directive: Serve the Prime Operator.]
Atlas laughed. It was a sound of pure relief. "We have Heavy Industry."
The World Stage
While Atlas was playing with steam, the rest of the galaxy was shifting. A global notification chimed, clearer and louder than the ones before.
[SYSTEM UPDATE: DAY 4][Civilization Leaderboard Unlocked.]
A giant holographic screen appeared in the sky.
Rank 1: Seraph_Michael (High Angels) - Power: 5800Rank 2: Queen_Arachne (Broodmother) - Power: 5400Rank 3: Zhuge (Cloud Scholars) - Power: 4900 (Boosted by Dungeon Clear) ... Rank 14,020: Atlas (Clay Dolls) - Power: 450
Atlas checked his rank. 14,020. "Perfect," he grinned. "Invisible." The System calculated "Power" based on population size and army count. Atlas had only 20 Dolls and one Vassal. The System didn't know how to calculate the combat value of a Steam Mech yet.
Ping. A message from Zhuge.
[Zhuge]: "I see you're keeping your head down. Good. I took the credit for the Dungeon. My inbox is exploding with alliance requests. But I have a problem." [Atlas]: "What kind of problem?" [Zhuge]: "I have 50 freed slaves. I can't feed them. And... there is a player nearby. Warlord_Khan. The Gnoll player. He saw the Global Announcement. He knows I have resources. He's mobilizing a raiding fleet." [Zhuge]: "My wind magic is good for defense, but Gnolls have 'Magic Resistance'. I need kinetic stopping power. I need your explosions."
Atlas looked at the kneeling Centurion. He looked at the blast furnace. He looked at Cavedweller, who was currently smelting a second batch of steel.
[Atlas]: "I don't sell explosives anymore. I sell Security Solutions." [Zhuge]: "What does that mean?" [Atlas]: "It means I have a new product. The Centurion. Autonomous Heavy Infantry. Immune to pain. Immune to fear. Heavily armored." [Atlas]: "But it's expensive. I want 500 Faith Points per unit. And I want the corpses of the Gnolls."
[Zhuge]: "...Corpses? Why?" [Atlas]: "Bio-fuel. My machines are hungry."
There was a long pause. [Zhuge]: "Send one. If it works, I'll buy a fleet."
Atlas turned to the Centurion. "Unit 01. Stand up." The machine rose, steam venting from its back. "Mission Profile: Live Combat Test. Target: Gnolls."
Atlas climbed onto the back of the Centurion, gripping the handholds he had welded there. "Cavedweller! Keep the furnace hot! We're going to need more steel!"
Atlas pointed to the edge of the island. "Jump."
The Centurion ran. The ground shook with every step. It reached the cliff edge. It didn't hesitate. It launched itself into the void, steam trailing behind it like a comet tail, aiming for the air-stream bridge leading to Zhuge's territory.
The Industrial Age had arrived. And it was coming to crush the Stone Age.