Upon arrival, the team convened in the central command chamber, a nexus of advanced technology and strategic planning. Dr. Dew stood at the center, flanked by Leonardo da Vinci, Paracelsus, Celeste Starfire Cassidy, and Tesla. The room pulsed with activity—holograms flickering, energy readings scrolling, and projections of defense protocols flashing along the curved walls. Their home base had changed over the past few years into a fortified arcology powered by both old-world innovation and newly adapted alien technologies.
Tesla, regal in posture and sharp in voice, stood slightly apart, eyes scanning the chamber's energy displays and data projections with focused intensity. His presence alone shifted the atmosphere—where others saw obstacles, he saw raw formulas to be solved.
"Before we speak of hope," Tesla began, adjusting one of the holographic projections, "we must first speak of containment. What we witnessed wasn't natural. It was engineered entropy." He tapped through layers of data, highlighting areas of the solar system now consumed by the unknown energy. "This spread follows no organic pattern. This is corruption acting with intent."
Celeste let out a low whistle. "And y'all think we can stop that?"
"With preparation and preemptive design," Leonardo replied, already interfacing with the city's defense schematics, "we may not need to stop it all at once. Just survive long enough to build a counter."
Paracelsus nodded, glancing at Dew. "And if it's tied to any form of metaphysical contamination, we must begin soul-layer filtration protocols immediately."
Dr. Dew leaned forward. "We'll do both. Engineering, spiritual isolation, weaponry—everything. And we begin now."
Tesla didn't smile, but the faint flicker of voltage around his temple betrayed something close to satisfaction. "Then we make war with precision."
The city transformed. Using designs derived from Metal Gear schematics, they began mass-manufacturing fully autonomous bipedal weapons—some for direct confrontation, others as mobile repair and defense platforms. Alongside these, Constructs modeled after Punishing Gray Raven blueprints were synthesized, combining speed, agility, and integrated AI for fast-response skirmishing. For longer campaigns, they produced Nikkes—fully armed, artificially crafted battle-humanoids capable of extraordinary firepower and tactical autonomy.
All of this would be meaningless, though, if they didn't address the spiritual and metaphysical gaps. With knowledge from Assassin's Creed artifacts, particularly the device once used by the Isu to create humanity, Dr. Dew and his team worked to decode its structure. The machine didn't just replicate DNA—it created souls. Consciousness.
That insight changed everything.
Inside the digital world, Dr. Dew manipulated simulations like clay in the hands of a sculptor. His video conduit power let him design creatures from memory and merge mechanics from other universes. He recreated the biology and structure of humans from the Monster Hunter world—tough, resilient, adapted to a world dominated by apex predators. Using the Isu device, he crafted new humans with powerful baseline genetics, souls forged through digital synthesis, and minds born fully aware.
They didn't stop there. Dr. Dew generated digital templates of Zorah Magdaros, Arkveld, and others. These creatures could not be made real—not yet—but the templates were converted into raw materials, armor components, and fallback designs. If a day came where unleashing digital titans became the only option, they would be ready.
Five years passed in a blur of work. Cities were expanded downward and fortified outward. Old fallout bunkers became crystal-threaded arcane vaults. The Erchius force fields were replaced with Isu-designed barriers that could hold back not just force, but unknown spiritual pressures.
And still, the corruption spread. The solar system where the hive city had once stood was now infested. Nothing returned from its planets. Energy pulses grew stranger, more intense. Life signatures vanished.
Then came the signal—an object entering their solar system. Alarms flashed. Drones deployed. Celeste adjusted orbit.
"It's a ship," she said. "Imperial-looking… but not hostile."
Dr. Dew activated the long-range scanner. "No signs of aggression. This is a Rogue Trader ship."
A long silence passed. Leonardo narrowed her eyes. "Friend or foe?"
Paracelsus grinned faintly. "Let's hope for the former."
The ship adjusted trajectory, heading directly toward their world.
End of Chapter Thirty-Two