Chapter 205
Daniel truly wanted to test the Leviathan's capabilities. It was the perfect opening act , in a land where fighting was considered second nature, and the primal urge to wage war was seen as a noble calling, entering battle with a thunderous roar was the best way to shake the foundations and mark their arrival. It was not just a test , it was a declaration.
Daniel's Omni-Resonance automatically activated the moment a threat neared. For an instant, his mind was filled with warning tones , until they slowly faded. What remained was not hostility, but fear.
"They're scared," he said under his breath, almost surprised. "The Ouroboros Serpent wasn't just a monster to them… it's tied to their legends. The moment it awakens again, they believe it will lay waste to every living being , and finally destroy their world."
His voice grew cold, steady."Siglorr, cancel the test. Cloak our presence. I don't want the locals panicking before we understand what we're dealing with."
Siglorr gave a low nod, metallic plates humming as the Leviathan's engines dimmed and the sound of its heart-like reactor quieted to a whisper.
From the upper deck, Duke Aereth Rothchester stood in silence, his gaze locked on his son — seeing, perhaps for the first time, the weight of command settle naturally upon him. Beside him, Duchess Elleena Laeanna Rothchester clasped her trembling hands together. Her eyes followed Daniel's every movement , pride and worry warring silently within her.
Melgil noticed the Duchess's unease. The spider-born queen approached quietly, her silken hair swaying as if moved by invisible threads. She stopped beside Elleena, lowering her head respectfully.
"Your Grace," Melgil said softly, "you raised him well. I've fought beside many , but few command both fear and loyalty the way he does."
Elleena's lips curved faintly, a mix of sadness and fondness. She turned toward Melgil and, to the arachnid queen's surprise, drew her into a gentle embrace.
"Take good care of each other," Elleena whispered. "He hides his fears behind reason. You'll see it in the way his voice hardens , that's when his heart is at war with his duty. Don't let him face that alone."
Melgil's eyes softened, the glow of her silk-born pupils dimming."I promise, Duchess," she replied quietly. "He won't walk that path alone , not while I still breathe."
Elleena smiled, brushing away a tear. "Then maybe… I can finally rest easy, even if this world trembles again."
Below them, the Leviathan's hull pulsed faintly , like a sleeping beast holding its breath, waiting for Daniel's next command.
Daniel stood at the observation platform, his eyes fixed on the faint signatures flickering below. Through the Omni-Resonance, the world unfolded in layers of sound and emotion — the heartbeat of soldiers, the faint crackle of anxiety, the uneven rhythm of hunger.
"They're not advancing," he murmured. "Just… standing there."
From the view scope, the army stretched along the forest's edge like a rusted blade — dull, weary, and chipped by time. Their armor was piecemeal, their weapons corroded by age. Some wore mismatched iron plates; others had only cloth and broken shields. Though towering at seven feet, their bodies carried the hollow frame of malnourishment.
Daniel's assessment readout flickered across the interface beside him , Strength: High. Endurance: Weak. Morale: Shaken. Nutrient Deficiency: Critical.
He frowned. "They're built like giants, but their bodies are starving. They can't sustain a long campaign."
A quiet hum of agreement came from Siglorr, his deep voice echoing through the Leviathan's inner halls. "They look like warriors from an age long past, my lord. Yet their eyes , they carry the same fear you mentioned earlier."
Daniel nodded, the faint reflection of the worn-out soldiers glimmering in his golden eyes. "Fear and duty — two chains that bind even the strongest."
Behind him, soft footsteps approached. Melgil stood by his side, her silk-lined cloak brushing gently against the metal floor. Her gaze followed his, but her focus lingered not on the army , but on him.
"The Duke and Duchess have departed," she said quietly. "They didn't wish to disturb you."
Daniel turned slightly, catching a glimpse of the Leviathan's aft gate closing in the reflection. For a moment, he thought of his parents' faces , his mother's trembling smile, his father's silent nod.
"Did they say anything?" he asked.
Melgil hesitated, then smiled faintly. "The Duke said you've truly matured , that your personality and character have finally blossomed. He saw the same fire he once carried when he led men into war."
Daniel's expression softened. He exhaled slowly, leaning against the railing. "He always said leadership wasn't inherited , it had to be earned through failure and resolve."
Melgil stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. "And yet, you've carried that burden since the day you were chosen. You may not see it, Daniel, but even your silence commands more than most generals' words."
He turned to meet her eyes, the faint blue glow of her silken pupils reflecting the storm clouds gathering outside.
"I don't lead for power," he said quietly. "I lead because no one else will take the risk."
Melgil's lips curved into a soft smile. "Then perhaps that's what makes you worthy of it."
Outside, thunder rumbled above Ormheim. The Leviathan's sensors continued to track the motionless army below , an army paralyzed by old legends and forgotten fears.
And amid the silence, Daniel stood , torn between the warmth of Melgil's presence and the cold weight of what he knew would come next.
Daniel kept his gaze fixed on the forest below. The army still hadn't moved , not an inch. The fog around Ormheim Cliff thickened, swallowing the treeline like a restless sea.
"We'll observe them for now," Daniel said finally, breaking the silence. "The information we got from the guilds is no longer reliable. Reports change, and so do allegiances. Until we know more, I won't act on old data."
Melgil tilted her head, the faint hum of her silk threads audible whenever she moved. "Agreed. Misinformation is a weapon sharper than any blade. We'll wait and watch."
Daniel nodded, then his voice softened. "Melgil… where are my parents?"
She smiled gently. "They've gone to their quarters. They didn't want to disturb you while you were working. Don't worry , Siglorr's staff already knew what to do. They're well-trained for this sort of matter."
Her tone warmed as she continued, "The Duchess was especially happy. She saw the change in you , the confidence, the calm. The Duke too. They both saw the man you've become."
Daniel's lips curved into a small, quiet smile. "Then I'm glad. I didn't want them to worry."
He turned toward the Leviathan's main console and spoke through the intercom."Siglorr, you have full control for now. Adjust our perimeter cloaking and keep the resonance field steady. The plan we created will change , slightly , based on what just happened."
"Acknowledged, my lord," came Siglorr's deep, mechanical reply. "We'll maintain silence until further orders."
Daniel turned to Melgil. "Come with me. I want to see them."
She nodded, falling into step beside him as they walked through the dimly lit corridors of the Leviathan. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the metallic hallways, accompanied by the low hum of the ship's living engine.
As they walked, Daniel's thoughts wandered. The people he had just called mother and father , they weren't truly his parents, not in the biological sense. Yet their faces, their voices, their gestures ,they mirrored the ones he once lost.
And for the first time, it didn't hurt.
His chest tightened, not from pain, but from something he had almost forgotten how to feel. Joy.
It wasn't guilt. It wasn't resentment. It was something deeper — the realization that he was allowed to feel.
In another life, he was Damon Lazarus, the prodigy , a genius game developer with prodigious savant syndrome. A mind that could memorize entire codebases and simulate entire systems , yet utterly incapable of distinguishing human emotion beyond logic.
He had once mirrored kindness as a calculated response.He smiled because it was socially correct, not because he felt happiness.He comforted others because he had learned that it was the right protocol , not because empathy moved him.
But now… it was different.
Every beat of his heart felt real. Every flicker of emotion , sadness, warmth, fear — was something he could understand.
Yet he could also feel something else , faint, mechanical cracking beneath his skin. A reminder that his body wasn't built with human DNA. Every movement whispered of strain, every emotion pressed against the limits of a vessel that was never meant to feel so deeply.
Still, Daniel smiled.
This time, he wasn't analyzing the world through a lens of logic or survival.He was living it.
As he and Melgil approached the quarters where the Duke and Duchess rested, Daniel whispered — almost to himself:
"This time… I'll embrace it. Every part of it. The life I've been given , the one I built myself."
Melgil glanced at him softly. "Then maybe," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "you're finally becoming what you were always meant to be , not a creation… but a person."
The corridors of the Leviathan were quiet , a rare peace within the storm of engines and ancient steel. The soft hum of its core echoed like a heartbeat, steady and deep, carrying Daniel and Melgil through the winding passage until they reached the Duke and Duchess's quarters.
A gentle chime sounded as Daniel pressed his hand to the door. The sensor recognized him immediately , the door parted with a low hiss.
Inside, the room was warm and softly lit. Duchess Elleena Laeanna Rothchester sat near the glass viewport, the faint light of the mist-wrapped mountains painting her silver hair in blue hues. Beside her, Duke Aereth Rothchester stood tall, his broad frame casting a steady shadow , one that spoke of the years he had spent carrying both sword and crown.
The Duke turned first, his stern face softening. "Daniel. I thought you'd still be working."
Daniel stepped inside, closing the door behind him. For once, his tone lacked the usual command or formality that his officers knew him for.
"I was," he admitted quietly, "but… I wanted to see both of you."
Elleena rose from her seat, eyes already glistening. "You should be resting, my dear. You've carried enough today."
Daniel smiled faintly , not the polite, distant smile he once wore, but a real one, fragile yet warm."No," he said. "Not yet. There's something I need to do first."
Before either of them could speak, Daniel stepped forward and to their surprise, he embraced his father.
It wasn't a soldier's greeting or a son's formality. It was real , a firm, unguarded hug that carried the weight of years he could never reclaim. The Duke stiffened for a second, unused to such gestures, then slowly returned the embrace, his massive hand resting on Daniel's shoulder.
"I never said this before," Daniel said, his voice low but steady, "but I'm proud to be your son. And I'm happy , truly grateful , that you're my father."
The Duke's composure cracked for the first time in years. His breath caught, and his usual iron tone melted into something gentler. "You've… grown more than I imagined," he murmured, pulling back slightly to look at his son. "You carry yourself like a man who understands what it means to lead , and what it costs."
Daniel nodded, eyes bright. "Because you taught me. Even when I didn't know how to feel, I remembered how you stood , unyielding, even when the world burned. That's what guided me."
Elleena pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to hold back her tears. Daniel turned to her next, crossing the room in two long strides before pulling her into a warm embrace.
Her body trembled against his chest as he whispered, "Mother… I never gave you the love you deserved. I was distant, cold , too afraid to show anything real. But not anymore. I love you, and I'll spend every day proving it."
Her sob broke the silence. She clung to him tightly, tears soaking through his uniform. "My son," she whispered, voice shaking, "I've waited so long to hear those words… so long."
Daniel kissed her gently on the cheek , a simple gesture, but one that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken apologies.
Melgil stood quietly by the door, her hands clasped together, her usually calm expression soft with emotion. She could feel it , the resonance of Daniel's awakening humanity filling the room like a warm current.
After a long moment, Daniel stepped back, still holding both of their hands."I can't ask you to stay here," he said softly. "It's dangerous. The situation outside is changing faster than we expected."
Aereth nodded solemnly. "Then it's time we return to the Merchant Kingdom of Solnara Cererindu. The court there still owes me favors , we can help from afar."
Elleena looked up at Daniel, her tears drying into a trembling smile. "We'll give you the freedom you seek, my son. Do what you must. We'll be waiting for the day you return."
Daniel swallowed, the emotion rising in his throat. "Thank you… both of you."
As they prepared to leave, he watched them with quiet pride. It wasn't just gratitude , it was peace. For the first time since his creation, Daniel felt whole.
The echo of Siglorr's warning still lingered in Daniel's mind as he and Melgil made their way back through the Leviathan's long, dim corridors. The low pulse of the ship's core grew stronger with every step, resonating with a rhythm like a living creature holding its breath.
When the doors to the main deck slid open, the great chamber flickered to life , illuminated by deep blue light and floating glyphs that moved like constellations across the air. The panoramic view of Ormheim Mountain stretched before them, wreathed in mist and moonlight.
Below, tens of thousands of Valdyrheim soldiers stood motionless in the forest clearing — their torches forming rivers of orange that coiled around the base of the cliffs.
Daniel stepped toward the command bridge, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the movement of the gathered masses. "We stay hidden," he said, his tone calm but resolute. "With this many eyes below, revealing ourselves now would only fuel their fear. We wait , until we understand what's happening in this realm."
Melgil stood beside him, her silken hair faintly glowing in the dim light. "You've changed your mind," she observed. "Earlier, you wanted to make a statement."
Daniel nodded slightly. "I did. But something's wrong here. The energy signature we detected — the Ouroboros resonance , shouldn't exist unless it's being triggered. Someone down there must be tampering with forces they don't understand."
He paused, glancing toward the hovering interface beside the console. "We need information — fast. The guild reports we received were unreliable, and this realm…" He exhaled slowly, tapping the edge of the table. "This realm might have rules, restrictions , something that limits how our powers work. We can't act blindly."
Melgil's many-threaded senses hummed softly. "Then what's our next step?"
Daniel turned toward the towering figure of Siglorr, who emerged from the inner chamber. His massive frame gleamed with golden engravings , ancient dwarven runes mixed with mechanical veins that pulsed like veins of molten silver.
"Siglorr," Daniel began, "is the War Golem Spider blueprint still open for reconfiguration?"
The war-forge master tilted his head, heavy gears turning within his armor. "Yes, my lord. The design matrix remains unlocked. What changes are you considering?"
Daniel's gaze dropped to the central command table, where a large, aged map of the Valdyrheim Realm was unfurled. Its parchment edges shimmered with faint magical etchings , the legacy of an old civilization that had recorded the geography of mountains, forests, and rivers in meticulous detail.
The markings were old , even ancient , yet still accurate. The Leviathan's current position glowed faintly as a red dot pulsing near Ormheim Mountain, the heart of the northern reaches.
Daniel rested both hands on the table. "Our location gives us a height advantage, but not information. I want to deploy smaller autonomous scouts , prototypes based on the War Golem Spider frame. Reconfigure them for stealth, recon, and atmospheric sampling."
Siglorr's eyes flickered with internal light. "A reconfiguration of that scale will require a full recalibration of the core matrix. We'll need elemental material to forge adaptive armor plates."
Daniel reached into his coat and pulled out a thin metallic bracelet , one that gleamed faintly with shifting light. "Use this," he said, tossing it onto the table.
Siglorr caught it with one hand, examining the intricate runes and embedded nano-filaments woven into its structure. His brows furrowed as he recognized the faint pulse of enchantment.
"This is the communication bracelet you gave me," Daniel said. "I embedded a formless armor element into it , a fragment of what we salvaged from the Null Core project. If you can extract its reactive components and decode the magical encryption I placed, you'll have what you need."
The war-forge master's eyes widened slightly. "My lord… you used enchantment runes written in the celestial language. I was never able to fully decipher it."
Daniel's lips curved faintly. "I know. But I did , just now. The Leviathan's core read the pattern and translated the inner syntax. It's not just language, Siglorr , it's a logic circuit written in spell form."
Melgil raised a brow, intrigued. "You're rewriting enchantments as algorithms?"
"Exactly," Daniel replied. "Once we synchronize the rune flow with the Leviathan's neural architecture, it can replicate and evolve enchantments automatically — no need for a mage to sustain them."
Siglorr stared at the bracelet a moment longer, then nodded deeply. "Understood. I'll begin reconfiguration immediately."
Daniel turned his gaze back to the map, tracing his finger along the faded inked ridges that marked the northern passes. "Start with the lower regions , near the rivers of Jorvak and the ruins of Verdalin. If the Ouroboros resonance originated nearby, we'll detect its echo there."
Melgil crossed her arms, watching him closely. "You're planning for more than reconnaissance, aren't you?"
Daniel looked at her , his eyes sharp, determined. "Always. Every plan has a hidden path. And this time, we'll be the ones watching from the shadows."
The Leviathan's lights dimmed, engines whispering to a lower hum. The ship itself seemed to crouch, like a beast hiding in the mountains, its vast frame concealed beneath swirling clouds and ancient stone.
Below, the Valdyrheim armies still stood , silent and unmoving , unaware that above them, a mind once known in another life , now reborn as Daniel Rothchester, was preparing the next evolution of war.
Soon the blueprints were unrolled across the metal table with a clack as the dwarven staff stepped back, their faces half-lit by the amber forge lamps. Siglorr's broad hands smoothed the parchment, his eyes glimmering like molten ore. Daniel leaned closer, tracing one of the spider golem's joint diagrams with his finger. The threads on the schematic were drawn like veins , pulsing with etched runes.
"By the Void…" Daniel murmured. "You've outdone yourself again, Siglorr. The silk strands—these aren't ordinary fibers, are they?"
Siglorr's beard shifted as he smirked, pride evident in his gravel-deep voice."Aye. Them threads were spun from the remains of the Calamity Centipede, remember that beast ye slayed by the twin peaks of Obrelin ? When it died, the threads crystallized with mana. Nearly unbreakable by mortal means. It's alive in a way , breathin' mana through every strand."
Daniel's eyes narrowed, intrigued. "So they respond to command?"
"Not just respond," Siglorr said, tapping the blueprint. "They listen. Each strand's got a memory rune linked to a mana circuit. The more ye feed it mana, the more it learns , like a bloody living muscle, but smarter."
Daniel leaned back slightly, impressed. "You learned all this from my subconscious library, didn't you?"
Siglorr chuckled, scratching his beard. "Aye. When ye opened that library in yer void space, I thought I'd gone mad. Thousands o' blueprints, mechanisms, and runic structures — things no dwarf or god's ever dreamt of. I spent days wanderin' that place, drinkin' knowledge till my head felt like it'd burst. Yer old castle library's gone, but that new place ye made... cozy little thing, eh? Suits ye and Lady Melgil just fine."
Daniel's tone turned thoughtful. "I've been thinking of combining the golem's sensory link with something else , something that transmits thought and image instantly. Like those transmittal insects the elves and your kind created, that became the main visual medium of the Region, Maybe I could fuse that into the enchanted mirror…"
Siglorr burst into laughter , a deep, rolling sound. "Hah! I knew ye'd say that!" He reached under the table and pulled out a sealed steel case, unlocking it with a rune key. "That's why I didn't wait for ye to ask."
Inside, a strange, shifting armor pulsed , formless and yet solid, like shadow caught in liquid glass. It seemed to breathe.
Daniel stepped closer, the air thickening around it. "What is this…?"
Siglorr's eyes gleamed with reverence. "Behold , the Void Hive. Built from the same formless armor ye once wore, but evolved. It's still part of the Void, only reshaped. The material's made from Ether itself , that rarefied, elastic essence once thought to fill the space between all matter. It bends light, mana, and even sound through its structure. Ye could walk through flame or shadow, and the armor would adapt instantly."
Daniel whispered, "Ether… the ancient medium of creation. You've made it real?"
Siglorr grinned like a mad genius. "Aye. The Void Hive is alive, lad. It feeds on ambient Ether, linkin' itself to the Hive Mind through the enchanted mirrors. Ye think a thought , it acts. Ye see through one mirror , the others see too. The Hive listens, learns, and grows. It's a perfect fusion o' dwarven knowledge calamity class silk , and the main host and material yer void armor."
Daniel smirked, eyes glowing faintly violet. "Perfect indeed. With this… the Leviathan will not just move , it will breathe."
Siglorr folded his arms, nodding. "Aye. And for the first time, lad… we're buildin' somethin' that even the gods might fear."
" that's the point my dear master forger,"
The forge-lamps dimmed as Daniel stepped toward the pulsing mass of the Void Hive. Siglorr pulled a lever on the wall, and a low metallic hum filled the Leviathan's belly. The floor panels opened with a hiss, revealing a vast chamber beneath , the experimental hull chamber meant for field integration.
"Ready the ether conduits," Siglorr ordered, his voice echoing like thunder.The dwarves obeyed, turning valves and inscribing runes that began to glow blue-white. From the far end, a mechanical arm lifted a large cylinder marked with countless tiny sigils. Siglorr grunted, motioning for Daniel to stand back.
"This'll be loud."
The cylinder split open, releasing what looked like a cascade of silver dust , a ton of it, fine as ash, glittering like stars. The dust swirled in the air before dispersing through the Leviathan's vents, escaping into the open sky above Valdyrheim.
Moments later, the world itself seemed to breathe.
The huge map spread across the war table began to move. Lines shifted, hills reshaped, rivers gleamed as if alive. New markers appeared — small moving lights representing beasts, soldiers, and unseen energies across the land.
Siglorr's eyes widened. "By the Deep Forge…"
Daniel smiled faintly, watching the ether dust synchronize. "It's responding… perfectly."
The table's ether veins pulsed in rhythm with the Void Hive. Then, with a quiet hum, strands of light rose from the table's surface , forming floating symbols, data streams, and faint three-dimensional illusions of the terrain.
Information flowed like water through glass. The unfinished map of Valdyrheim was completing itself in real-time. Every tree, settlement, and leyline flickered into view as the Void Hive's particles linked together like a living network.
Siglorr muttered under his breath, half in awe, half in disbelief. "A bloody thinkin' machine…"
Daniel's gaze was locked on the table. "This is it… The first step toward what I've always imagined." His hand trembled slightly as he touched the glowing ether projection. "A system that learns, records, reacts , without divine interference. A thinking forge. A living archive. A… computer."
Siglorr tilted his head. "Com-pu-ter?"
Daniel smiled, the word foreign yet full of promise. "A machine that thinks like a mind, but faster , one that never forgets."
The dwarf let out a short laugh. "Heh, if ye can dream it, I can hammer it." He reached into his belt pouch and brought out a small metallic device shaped like a bracelet — etched with glowing runes and flexible segments.
"This, lad," Siglorr said proudly, "is a smaller version o' yer fancy wrist gear. Links directly to the Hive. Ye can talk through it, send commands, even mark targets. Ye'll see what it sees. Ye could guide a golem army from yer bed if ye wanted."
Daniel examined it, sliding it onto his arm beside his own ancient band. The two synchronized instantly, glowing in harmony.
Siglorr continued, "Mental telepathy's fine an' all, but it drains mana faster than a drunk dwarf drains ale. This gear uses the Hive's flow , no mana cost to the user. And " He tapped a small rune on the side. " it doubles as a portable arm blaster. Five charged shots before ye need to refill."
The bracelet's panels shifted, revealing a small, shimmering barrel that extended like a blooming petal. Daniel tested it, pointing at a nearby iron dummy. A silent pulse fired , thoom! , and the dummy's chest melted inward, its core turned to glass.
Daniel stared at the smoke curling upward. "Efficient."
Siglorr chuckled darkly. "Aye. I call it the V-5 Communicator. The gears, the Hive, the dust… they'll change how this land works. When the dwarves of Valdyrheim start seein' maps that move and machines that think , history'll split in two. Before the Hive… and after it."
Daniel smiled faintly, eyes fixed on the swirling holographic ether-map. "Then let it happen. Progress doesn't wait for history's approval."
Siglorr folded his arms, watching the Void Hive shimmer like a heartbeat across the Leviathan's hull. "Just remember, lad , every forge's flame can warm a home… or burn a kingdom."
Daniel nodded slowly. "Then we'll make sure it burns only those who try to chain it."
The hum of the Leviathan deepened. Outside, across Valdyrheim, the silver ether dust glowed faintly , like stars falling in slow motion , as the world itself began to connect.
The first dawn of the Void Age had begun.
The three of them stood around the living table as the ether shimmered and re-formed at Daniel's gestures. The map wasn't a map anymore so much as a captured moment of the world — a three-dimensional painting that breathed. The Valdyrheim army at the foot of Ormheim was rendered in blocks of light: ranks, banners, clusters of torches; every movement, however small, translated into a shape and heartbeat on the table.
Daniel swept his hand through the air and the projection tilted. The holographic soldiers rose and fell with the wind; their armor showed gaps where it was patched, their shoulders hollow where hunger had hollowed them out. The detail was basic, but its import was enormous. For the first time, anyone aboard the Leviathan could see what his Omni-Resonance saw. Information , raw and honest , lay across the table like a battlefield drawn in living ink.
He drew a slow line with his fingertip toward the clustered torches. "We cannot simply land and feed them or hand out weapons," he began, voice low. "If we do that, Valdyrheim will see it as charity , as condescension. Their culture is forged by blood and bravery. They'll recoil. We must make them choose to rise. We must give them a mirror in which they see themselves as warriors again."
Melgil watched him, silk threads whispering. "You mean inspire them... through fear?" she asked. The word came soft, not judgmental , simply curious.
Daniel nodded. "Not fear without purpose. A catalyst. A chance for them to reclaim their honor. I propose we stage an event convincing enough to rekindle their warrior spirit — something that plays into their myths and forces a single clear response: fight or be consumed. We will then be waiting to answer their prayer, to join them as allies they asked for."
Siglorr's brows knitted into an iron scowl. "You're not talkin' 'bout theatrics, boy. You want to use their weakness , their hunger and fear , as bait?" He crossed his arms, voice rough. "That's a hard pill to swallow. It's somewhat harsh and cruel, using' their weariness so we gain the upper hand."
Daniel didn't flinch. "It's not cruelty to make someone remember who they were, Siglorr. It's a risky push toward dignity." He tapped the projection; a line of light arced, showing where the Leviathan could release a controlled threat down the eastern ravine. "We'll send Nyx in a form they understand — a massive serpent-shape, not the lithe fox they know. Nyx will be big enough to terrify: a living echo of their Ouroboros legends. But I give the order , Nyx must calculate exactly how much power to expend. Enough to maim and break formations, to take banners and topple trees, but not enough to slaughter. Wounded bodies, not corpses."
Siglorr let out a long breath. "A beast that breaks them but does not kill them… you're askin' the creature to be a surgeon, not a butcher. That takes precision and restraint. And a will that obeys "
Melgil stepped between them. Her voice was soft, but it carried the silk-honed authority of someone who could read the subtle contours of emotion. "We'll present ourselves as answer , not masters. When Nyx appears, one of them will inevitably fall to prayer. Their myths speak of messengers and heralds. We will seize that moment. We do not march in as conquerors. We appear as the very thing their faith invoked. 'You called,' we say. 'We come to test you , to stand with those who will fight for their world.' That preserves their pride."
Daniel's fingers hovered over the army's projection. "Nyx will simulate the serpent's awakening in the north face, strike localized points , supply the illusion of a disaster that must be fought. The Hive will feed Nyx sight and calculation. The bracelet Siglorr made will broadcast the 'herald' signal through the mirrors; it will look and sound like a reply to their prayers. We must choreograph this so their elders interpret it as a sacred trial. Afterward, we offer tools and training , not to enslave them, but to show them how to become true warriors again."
Siglorr's jaw worked. "And the moral line? What if the trial breaks more than you intend? What if our… inspiration becomes their extinction?"
Daniel met his gaze steadily. "Manipulation is a double-edged sword. We will engineer the edge. Nyx's strike vectors will be limited to non-fatal kinetic pulses and controlled mana burns — wounds we can predict and treat. We will station med teams under the guise of 'healers sent by the gods' so the wounded survive and return stronger. If, at any moment, the balance tips toward slaughter, I will call Nyx back and reveal nothing. We stop the play and withdraw. That is the rule: measure, test, and stop."
Melgil added, "We also give them agency. We will seed parts of the plan through their own channels , rumors, signs, the mimicry of local prophets , so when the storm comes they won't feel purely puppeted. They will feel provoked into action by their own choices."
Siglorr rubbed his temples, the ancient lines of his face softening into a reluctant respect. "Yer asking a lot of a machine's conscience , and a lot of my forges. But if ye swear the line and the stop, I'll craft Nyx's serpent frames to obey precisely that constraint. I'll hardcode safe-breakers into the Hive's directives. If Nyx tries to step beyond the command, the armor collapses into inert dust."
Daniel allowed himself a small, steadying smile. "That's why I asked for your best, Siglorr. Build it to be beautiful and brutal, but shackled by failsafes. Nyx must be convincing , terrifying in the right measure , and then immediately retractable."
Siglorr's grin was thin, but there: "Fine. I'll make the serpent. It'll hiss like the old gods and bite like iron. But remember my words: a forge's flame can warm a home , or burn one. You steer that flame."
Daniel turned back to the map, pinching a small floating mesa into a spire to better visualize the strike zone. "We steer it. We will not take their lives. We will restore their will. That is the plan."
Melgil's eyes found Daniel's, steady and soft. "Then let us prepare. We will rehearse Nyx's vectors in the voidspace and simulate all contingencies. We will keep the Leviathan hidden until the moment the 'heralding' must be undeniable."
Siglorr stamped his boot once, a clang that seemed to echo through the ship. "I'll have the first prototype ready for feed trials within the day. The Hive will hum for it tonight. If you're set on this course, then choose the moment, Commander , and may the forges favor us."
Daniel looked down at the living army on the table, then up at the misted peaks of Ormheim beyond the viewport. He felt the old logical inclinations , the calculations, the cold probabilities — and behind them, the new thing that had grown inside him: moral weight.
"I choose the moment," he said. "But we stop at the first sign it becomes more than a trial. We make them strong, not broken. Prepare Nyx. Prepare the failsafes. And Melgil , make sure our 'herald' is one they will trust to give them choice, not chains."
She inclined her head. "I'll weave the signal into their myths and language. They will hear what they need to hear to choose to stand."
The map shimmered as if in approval, and the three leaned over it — a strategist, a poet of silk, and a master forger plotting a dangerous kindness that would test a people and, they hoped, restore them.