Nolan's secret base. Inside one of the completed living quarters.
The lounge was completely lined with polished metal panels that reflected the bright overhead lighting. A metal cot sat pushed into one corner. In the center of the room, an induction cooktop hummed quietly.
In the pan above the cooktop, a freshly thawed Grox steak sizzled under a generous coating of butter. The rich, savory aroma filled the small space.
Nolan squatted beside the bed, concentrating intently on his cooking. He sipped from a can of Steger milk—the bluish liquid surprisingly refreshing despite its alien origin—and waited patiently for the steak to reach proper doneness.
Perhaps it was a side effect of his dramatically enhanced metabolism. Ordinary Earth food no longer satisfied his daily caloric requirements. His body burned through nutrients at an alarming rate.
So he'd gradually started experimenting with harmless Warhammer foodstuffs salvaged from the simulator. Items that wouldn't contaminate the environment or pose biohazard risks.
This decision had opened an entirely new world for Nolan.
Basically, aside from the various "corpse-starch" products—which he filed under "jokes I will never attempt"—most Warhammer cuisine qualified as exotic but edible food.
Not long ago, after lengthy hesitation, Nolan had gritted his teeth and tried his first salvaged meal.
He'd fallen in love with these alien provisions completely out of control.
Perhaps there was no such thing as waste in the salvage function after all. Maybe Nolan simply hadn't found reasonable applications for everything yet.
Ten minutes later, Nolan finished his midnight snack. His face shone with grease, lips glistening. He stood up contentedly and began walking slow laps around the lounge to aid digestion.
While pacing, he opened the simulator interface. After brief consideration, he navigated to his inventory and found the long-awaited Solar Auxilia pattern void combat armor.
He extracted it without ceremony.
The heavy armor materialized in midair and crashed onto the metal floor with a resounding clang. The impact dented the deck plating slightly.
Nolan's face split into a delighted grin. He dropped into a crouch immediately and ran his hands over the armor plating, feeling the hard texture through his fingertips. The ceramite was cool to the touch, smooth yet textured with reinforcement striations.
Then, without consulting any manual or instruction guide, Nolan began donning the combat armor. His body seemed to know the process instinctively—muscle memory from the simulation guiding each movement.
Several minutes later, fully armored, he picked up his chainsword casually. He felt powerful. Invincible. The armor's weight distributed perfectly across his enhanced frame.
He charged out of the lounge with fierce momentum, boots hammering against metal floors. He leaped down into the training ground and began moving through combat drills with manic energy.
The behavior seemed purely to burn off excess energy—a combination of post-meal restlessness and the sheer joy of finally wearing proper armor.
This continued until UR-025 returned to the base hall hauling large quantities of building materials, interrupting Nolan's session.
Shortly afterward, UR-025 —standing a full two meters tall—positioned itself beside the training ground. Its metal arms folded in front of its torso in an oddly elegant gesture, like a gentleman butler awaiting orders.
The blue light in its optical sensors pulsed gently.
"Respected Omnissiah, good evening."
"Good evening, UR-025." Nolan stopped mid-swing with his chainsword. He raised one hand and removed the sealed helmet of his combat armor, tucking it under his arm. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the climate control.
Nolan approached Iron Man with a slight smile.
"Uh... UR-025, shouldn't you give yourself a proper name? It feels impolite to just call you by your designation number."
In response to Nolan's inquiry, UR-025 bowed slightly. Even its mechanical voice seemed to carry a hint of desire—something approaching emotion.
"My lord, names are merely identifiers, especially for mechanical life forms. However, if you wish it... I believe you could call me 'David.'"
Nolan paused, momentarily surprised. Then he nodded in agreement.
"Alright. From today forward, you're David." He shifted topics smoothly, his tone becoming more serious. "By the way, how's the situation I asked you to investigate?"
After confirming UR-025's new designation, the relaxed atmosphere evaporated completely.
David lowered its head slightly, as if searching through information stored in its metal skull. Processors hummed quietly.
Then it spoke concisely, delivering its intelligence report with clinical precision.
"Hydra maintains secret bases across the globe. One in Antarctica, one in the Arctic. European countries host the highest concentration of contact points, with substantial presence in the Americas as well. However, with Kingpin's death and the New York underworld's change in leadership gradually becoming known, Hydra has grown vigilant. Their digital footprints have almost completely vanished from networks I can access."
David's optical sensors flashed brighter.
"Nevertheless, I've determined the true identities of several operatives through historical contact information. The closest assets to our location include multiple federal government officials, mid-level military officers, and several high-ranking generals."
The AI continued, "Regarding S.H.I.E.L.D—the organization you mentioned—they maintain a separate internal communications network with significantly enhanced security protocols. I cannot access much intelligence. However, using the names you provided, I've identified several hidden Hydra members within S.H.I.E.L.D's ranks. Most are low-level operatives with limited clearance."
"Currently, this represents all available intelligence on Hydra."
After listening to David's report, Nolan's eyes narrowed. A cold smile crossed his face.
"'Cut off one head, two more shall take its place.' Let's see how many heads these heretics actually have for me to remove."
He paused, thinking strategically.
"Don't tip our hand yet. Wait until we understand their complete organizational structure. We can't treat Hydra like Ork warbands—simple decapitation strikes won't suffice here. They're more like genestealer cults. Kill one cell, ten more remain dormant."
Then Nolan shifted focus.
"What about Roxxon Industries? What's their situation?"
"According to my analysis, Roxxon Industries and Hydra don't appear to be true allies. They maintain some business overlap, but their fundamental goals differ substantially."
David's head tilted slightly, optical sensors pulsing as it processed data.
"Roxxon Industries seems primarily motivated by profit extraction from Earth's resources and markets. Their influence penetrates the entertainment industry, media corporations, and political spheres. Completely different from Hydra's goal of global domination. They may cooperate opportunistically, but their ultimate objectives are incompatible."
David paused.
"There are also unverified rumors. Sources suggest that Dario Agger—current CEO of Roxxon Industries—may not be human."
Hearing those final words, Nolan's patient expression shifted. His brow furrowed as he whispered under his breath.
"Xenos..."
Then his eyes narrowed into slits. He fell into deep thought, mind working through tactical calculations.
David recognized the contemplative silence and waited patiently without further comment.
Several minutes passed before Nolan spoke again, his decision made.
"Then we'll deal with Roxxon Industries first. Heretical human forces can be patient—we'll gather intelligence and eliminate them comprehensively when the time comes. But xenos?"
His voice hardened into something cold and final.
"I don't want to wait even one more minute."
David bowed slowly, its metal head catching the light.
"Understood, my lord. I will ensure Roxxon Industries pays a heavy price as expeditiously as possible."
Hearing David's affirmative response, Nolan nodded with satisfaction. He turned and walked back toward the lounge without looking back.
His voice carried clearly to David's auditory sensors.
"Every profession has its specialty, David. This next phase falls within your operational parameters. Don't disappoint me."
Nolan's tone remained casual but carried unmistakable authority.
"I just need to know where to go and who to kill. Understand?"
The blue light in David's optical sensors suddenly blazed much brighter, pulsing with what might have been pride or determination.
"I obey your will... Omnissiah!"