Terrifying wails resounded throughout the metal hall, the sound inhuman and prolonged. Gemini's death scream carried agony beyond physical pain.
The humanoid skeleton sitting on the tall seat turned into flying green atoms almost instantly. The Necron gauss blaster's effect was absolute. Molecular bonds shattered. Matter reduced to constituent particles. The body simply ceased to exist, dispersing like smoke.
The next moment, reality shifted again. The purple metal pipeline that had been wrapped around Gemini for decades suddenly changed behavior.
Those purple metal pipes completely retracted toward the inside of the tall seat like living creatures! The motion was organic, unsettling. Tentacles withdrawing. Searching for new hosts.
At this moment, Nolan, wearing his diamond-shaped helmet, stared at the tall seat not far away with profound wariness. Every instinct screamed danger.
He didn't hesitate. He moved immediately in his Terminator armor, servos engaging with heavy clanks. Leading the automatic servo robot, he headed toward the outside of the metal hall with purposeful strides.
The tactical situation was clear. Leviathan's leader, Gemini, was dead. Confirmed kill. Threat neutralized.
There were no more enemies inside the alien spacecraft. The ship was silent. Empty. Conquered.
In other words, the alien technology spacecraft was already Nolan's trophy. Spoils of war. His by right of victory.
However, after witnessing the tragic fates of Gemini and Cancer, after seeing what this ship did to its victims, Nolan felt nothing but extreme wariness toward the technology and origins of this alien vessel!
Twenty-five years trapped in armor that wouldn't release. Decades fused to a chair, body slowly consumed for energy. The ship was a predator that fed on whoever touched it.
Therefore, Nolan planned to leave here first. Escape before the ship found new ways to trap him.
Later, he'd send Raditus and others to explore and recover whatever could be safely salvaged. Let the servo-skull risk fusion. Not him.
However, as Nolan traveled through the spacecraft wearing his Terminator armor, moving through corridor after corridor, a problem emerged.
In addition to finding the equipment room used to store the specialized alien armor that Cancer had worn, and discovering the engine room that had failed due to missing critical components, he found no exit.
No airlocks. No docking ports. No emergency evacuation systems. The ship seemed designed to trap anyone inside.
This put Nolan, who had relied on the alien spacecraft's teleportation technology to board, into a complete dilemma.
Option one: teleport Doom or Raditus inside and have them figure out the teleportation technology from within. Risk more people to save himself.
Option two: be completely reckless and use the Necron Warscythe to break through the ship's bulkhead and escape into the seabed beyond. Trust in Terminator armor's pressure sealing and hope he could swim up before drowning.
Neither option was ideal.
Nolan smoothly drew the Blood Scythe, which was surrounded by green light. The weapon hummed eagerly, sensing his intent.
He struck a nearby metal bulkhead forcefully, testing structural integrity.
And the sharp edge inserted easily, exactly as he'd expected! The Necron weapon cut through alien alloys like they were butter. No resistance. Just smooth penetration.
"Phew! It can be destroyed. Now I feel at ease."
Nolan shook his diamond-shaped helmet slightly, relief flooding through him. The words emerged as a muttered reassurance to himself.
Knowing he could cut his way out if necessary transformed the situation from trapped to merely inconvenient.
At this moment, David's voice emerged from the automatic servo robot, mechanical tones carrying across the hall.
"My lord, why don't you let me take a gamble with the automatic servo robot? See if I can gain partial control of the alien spacecraft. In this way, you will be free from the worry of destroying the loot."
The Man of Iron paused, then added practical assessment. "Even if my attempt fails in the end, you'll still need to destroy the hull to leave regardless, and it's nothing more than the cost of one automatic servo robot."
Hearing David's suggestion, Nolan lowered his head in thought. The proposal had merit. Limited risk. Potential significant reward.
Finally, after weighing probabilities and outcomes, he decided to let David attempt it.
Soon after, the two returned to the dimly lit Metal Hall where Gemini had died. The space felt different now. Emptier. More threatening without the distraction of an enemy to fight.
And that tall chair still stood in the center of the metal hall, waiting. Patient. Hungry.
David, who had obtained Nolan's permission, carefully controlled the automatic servo robot forward. Each movement was cautious, measured.
It first used its metal tentacles to touch the metal surface of the tall seat gently. Testing. Probing.
After discovering that no subsequent reaction was triggered by simple contact, no violent seizure occurred, David made his decision.
He controlled the automatic servo robot to climb onto the tall seat without further hesitation. The machine positioned itself where Gemini had sat for decades.
In an instant, everything changed. Purple metal pipes erupted like living metal, moving with terrible speed!
They wound quickly around the automatic servo robot's body, wrapping tentacles and limbs. Binding. Connecting. Fusing.
Immediately afterward, a sound of surprise from David instantly reached Nolan's ears through the communication channel.
The exclamation made him more alert, not less. Surprise could mean success or catastrophe.
However, just when Nolan prepared for the worst, just when he was driving four servo robotic arms upward and raising weapons to fire, David's mechanical voice came quickly through the channel again.
This time carrying different tone entirely.
"My lord, I succeeded!"
Three words. Simple declaration. Profound implications.
According to David's subsequent explanation, delivered with characteristic precision, the situation was both better and worse than expected.
All that remained of this alien technology spaceship was essentially a metal shell. The structure was intact. The systems were not.
The most important core program, or perhaps the core component required to start the engine, had been missing for many years. Possibly millions of years if Cancer's estimate was accurate.
And because the alien spacecraft had long lacked necessary energy supply, had been sitting dead on the Black Sea floor for geological ages, it had developed a residual instinct that was almost predatory toward any external energy source.
Anything that could provide power got consumed. Gemini. The servo robot's reactor. Whatever touched the chair.
The long-term lack of energy had also caused the navigation log inside the bridge to fail updating or recording properly in real-time. Data corruption was extensive.
More ancient information had almost completely disappeared, files degraded beyond recovery.
At present, David could only access limited information. Fragments. Pieces.
It was mostly things that Leviathan's Gemini had recorded over the years through half-guessing and half-deduction. Imperfect translations. Assumptions based on incomplete data.
For example, Gemini had reluctantly used text search functions, painfully piecing together enough understanding to figure out the spaceship's name: the 'Crimson Centurion'.
A warship, David suspected. Though its original purpose remained unclear.
Nolan didn't care too much about ancient history or ship classifications. Practical matters took priority.
He asked David if the alien spacecraft's teleportation technology could be activated. Could they leave?
When Nolan received a positive answer, when David confirmed functional teleportation systems, he immediately requested corresponding preparations.
Tens of seconds later, purple energy halos like encoded light gradually enveloped the tall Terminator armor. The familiar sensation of space warping began.
An autonomous servo robot remained tightly strapped into the tall seat, David's consciousness spread through alien systems.
The reactor energy in the servo robot's body immediately dropped by more than one-third, drained by the teleportation process.
At the same time, the scenery before Nolan changed rapidly. Reality twisted. Distance compressed.
Wearing Terminator armor, he successfully left the uncomfortable alien spacecraft, emerging into open air and blessed normalcy.
Nolan glanced left and right through his helmet's eyepiece, getting his bearings. He quickly realized something unexpected.
He hadn't returned directly to Hassenstadt as intended. Instead, he stood near a port outside the city. Wooden docks. Fishing boats. Wrong location entirely.
"Sorry, my Lord, this is the first time I've used the teleportation technology, and there is a slight error in the coordinates..." David's mechanical voice carried something approaching sheepishness.
The admission was honest. Refreshing, really.
"David, just solve the problem..." Nolan's response was mild, unconcerned with minor navigation errors. "Remember to ask Raditus to see if the teleportation technology can be extracted. To be honest, my instinct is very repulsive to the internal environment of this alien spaceship. If it's not necessary, after extracting the teleportation technology, find a way to seal it up."
His gut told him the ship was dangerous. Experience had taught him to trust such instincts.
"Understood, my Lord. If you are not too sure about this, I will let Raditus try to destroy this alien spaceship after completing the task."
David offered escalation. Total destruction if recovery proved too risky.
"Well, David, you can handle it however you judge best."
Nolan ended the communication with David, trusting the ancient artificial intelligence's judgment on technical matters.
He drove the Terminator power armor toward Hassenstadt, each heavy step carrying him closer to the city whose atmosphere was completely different from before.
The change was visible from distance. Smoke no longer rose from fires. Sounds of combat had been replaced by sounds of construction.
Along the way, evidence of recent battle remained everywhere. Corpses and dilapidated buildings marked where violence had occurred.
But now they had been basically cleaned up through everyone working together. Bodies buried or burned. Rubble cleared. Streets becoming passable again.
Since Latveria was currently implementing a food rationing system under Doom's provisional government, efficient organization prevailed.
So except for young children and the elderly who were unable to contribute physically, most people obeyed the commands of the resistance and began building new homes to the best of their ability.
The work was hard. Progress slow. But spirits were high. Freedom tasted sweet after generations of oppression.
At present, all foreign threats to Latveria had been eradicated by Nolan and his forces. The Fortunov family was gone. Leviathan was destroyed. The Zodiac were dead.
The rest was to recuperate and develop rapidly. Heal wounds. Build infrastructure. Create prosperity from ruins.
Until one day, when the people here had grown strong and proud, they would need to be loyal to Nolan himself and the Emperor he served.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Writing takes time, coffee, and a lot of love.If you'd like to support my work, join me at [email protected]/GoldenGaruda
You'll get early access to over 50 chapters, selection on new series, and the satisfaction of knowing your support directly fuels more stories.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~