Lighting equipment powered by the Ark Reactor had been installed between the uneven rock walls of Nolan's private cave. The fixtures cast steady, clean illumination that banished shadows to the furthest corners.
But maybe it was for atmosphere and warmth, or perhaps simple preference, the huge fire pit in the middle of the cave remained completely preserved. David had offered to remove it. Nolan had refused.
Fire was primal. Comforting in ways artificial light could never match.
As flames flickered and danced, wisps of orange and yellow light painted the cave walls in shifting patterns. The fire crackled, consuming wood with steady hunger. Heat radiated outward in waves, pushing back the mountain's chill.
Strong flames licked at Glox steak positioned on a metal grill pan above the coals. The meat sizzled loudly, fat rendering and dripping onto hot metal. Each drop created small flares, brief explosions of brightness.
The aroma was intoxicating. Oil and char and protein. Extremely attractive, filling the cave with scent that made saliva flow automatically.
Next to the fire pit, Nolan sat cross-legged on the stone floor. He wore his power armor still, ceramite plates reflecting firelight. The armor's weight meant nothing to him, as natural as skin.
He ate with bold movements, like a wild wolf that had been hungry for too long. No pretense. No delicacy. Just pure consumption, devouring the meat David had cooked with single-minded focus.
His hands tore at the steak, teeth ripping through seared exterior to reach the tender flesh beneath. Juices ran down his chin, ignored. This was sustenance. Fuel. Pleasure.
David stood nearby, tending the fire and additional meat still cooking. His metal form caught the flames' glow, bronze surfaces warm with reflected light. Blue optics tracked Nolan's consumption with what might have been satisfaction.
"My Lord, the operation system of the Twin Islands Base is gradually on the right track." David's mechanical voice carried clearly over the fire's crackle. "The existence of the machine spirit Procellas has greatly reduced the processing speed of many chores. If there are no unexpected situations in a short period of time, we can consider using Procellas as the center, with countless Scyllax Guardian-automata, to build the central control core system of the entire base."
He paused, considering implications. "In this way, the efficiency of both production tasks and execution operations will be greatly improved."
The Man of Iron handed Nolan another plate of steaming steaks, the meat still radiating heat that distorted the air above it.
Nolan, face full of grease and completely unbothered by it, took the plate casually. He didn't even look up from his current piece of meat, words emerging between bites.
"If various defense systems can be built inside the base, I have no problem with that." He swallowed, reaching for the fresh steak. "By the way, in order to prevent possible unexpected situations, David, when the time comes, you will personally cast a metal statue of the Emperor and place it in the core of Procellas's base."
Another bite. Chew. Swallow. Continue speaking. "Also select some useful seals from the prayer scriptures about the Omnissiah that you remember and engrave them at some key node locations."
At this moment, David's movements stilled. The blue lights in his eyes seemed to flicker with something approaching discomfort. Perhaps memory. Perhaps old pain.
The ancient machine quickly shook its metal head vigorously, the motion carrying more emotion than such a gesture should. It looked at Nolan directly.
"Uh... my Lord, why did you choose such a cumbersome method? Perhaps, the Emperor is always watching you."
The words carried weight. Uncertainty wrapped in statement.
Nolan's hands didn't stop their work. He tore another chunk of meat free, chewed thoughtfully, then responded with his mouth still half-full.
"Although our current approach is to adapt to local conditions, I remember that the Emperor doesn't like artificial intelligence very much. It's hard to say whether it will protect you when encountering a real situation. I just want to seek psychological comfort."
He swallowed, expression growing more serious. "In addition, there may not be any Chaos electronic demons in the country, but there may be nanoviruses or other weird things that can produce similar effects. This is something we need to consider in advance."
His cyan eyes lifted, meeting David's optical sensors. "I don't want to have to face an omnic crisis or a Man of Iron rebellion one day..."
Nolan paused, recognizing how that might sound. "I'm sorry, David, this is not for you personally, but a necessary worry."
Before he could continue, something changed. Nolan suddenly stopped eating mid-motion, hand frozen with meat halfway to his mouth.
He frowned slightly, gaze losing focus. His eyes stared at the firelight constantly dancing before him, but they weren't seeing flames. They saw something else. Something distant and troubling.
His voice emerged as a murmur, words directed at himself more than David. "Moreover, just when I performed the 'Miracle' last time, the Emperor also gave me a psychic prophecy of impending disaster..."
The admission came reluctantly, as if speaking it aloud made it more real. "During this time, I always subconsciously thought of this matter. Maybe, I mean maybe... If the prophecy has nothing to do with the local area, then the forces of Chaos may not be as far away from this universe as I think."
The words hung heavy in the cave. Firelight continued its dance, indifferent to the implications.
"The Chaos Demons of the Warp..."
David's voice carried new weight. The speed of the blue light flashing in his optical sensors seemed to increase noticeably, processing implications and probabilities.
The Man of Iron moved with deliberate care, shifting the sizzling barbecue on top of the fire aside to let it cool. The action bought time to formulate response.
When David spoke again, its mechanical voice seemed to carry relief rather than fear. Almost... hope?
"My Lord, if your worries are correct, the worst we can do is to face the normal wars that the Imperium of Man encounters every day again."
The ancient machine's words built momentum, philosophy emerging from vast experience. "And by then, those native humans who have never faced terrifying demons will still need you to lead them to continue fighting. There will be unbearable casualties, but the native humans who have been tempered by war are no longer babies."
David shifted position, firelight playing across metal limbs. "Sacrifice. The foundation of the Imperium of Man has always been built on sacrifice. This is a perfect motto that has been proven by countless lives. As a loyal Man of Iron, I can tell you with certainty that in fact, even if the most glorious Golden Age of mankind is fleeting, some things in human bones have never changed."
The blue optics blazed brighter. "This is the fundamental reason why today's Imperium of Man can continue to fight against countless xenos, heretics and even Chaos demons."
Philosophy became conviction. "This doesn't even matter which universe or world... it is an important factor that allows the human species to stand out from countless competitors. The vast majority of human beings may be ignorant, reckless and aggressive, but at the same time they are also brave and fearless, possessing a strong spiritual will to sacrifice."
David's metal head tilted slightly, the gesture almost wistful. "I personally believe that even native humans will shine with the same brilliance as long as they are given appropriate time and many experiences..."
At this moment, David's words pulled Nolan from his dark contemplation. The philosophy settled over him like a blanket, warm and reassuring.
He fell into deep thought, processing wisdom delivered by a machine older than nations. Weighing possibilities. Considering futures.
Then, suddenly, he shook his head. The motion was sharp, decisive, breaking free from circular worries.
A faint smile appeared between the corners of his grease-stained mouth. Oil caught firelight, gleaming.
"David, you are right. Perhaps I am too worried about some issues."
His voice strengthened, conviction replacing anxiety. "No matter what, we should make the preparations we should. If the development of everything gradually exceeds the original expectations, then it is nothing more than a sentence..."
Nolan's smile widened, becoming something fierce and determined. "The soldiers will stop it, and the water will come to earth!"
He gestured broadly with the half-eaten steak still in his hand. "Moreover, I am not fighting alone. I have you guys in the team to help me!"
Energy returned fully. Appetite reasserted itself. He pointed at the cooling meat with enthusiasm.
"Come on, David, get on with the meat!"
At this moment, Nolan's hunger that had briefly subsided returned to his body with renewed force. In high spirits, he continued to devour the food before him, attacking it with savage joy.
And David shook its metal head slightly, the motion carrying fondness despite lacking biological capacity for such emotion.
The ancient machine returned to the grill, preparing more steaks. It worked with the quiet satisfaction of a wise man who had retired after success, having said what needed saying.
The fire crackled. Meat sizzled. And in a cave beneath a mountain in Latveria, a man and a machine shared a moment of peace before the storms to come.
Early the next morning, sunlight just beginning to filter through cave entrances, Doom arrived.
He'd come more than ten hours earlier than the twenty-four Nolan had allocated. Full of energy despite everything he'd endured. Purpose drove him forward.
Doom found Nolan outside his private cave, the commander already awake despite the early hour. Sleep was a luxury Nolan rarely indulged fully.
The sorcerer carried a large bucket, steam rising from its contents. Sweet soup made from the roots and stems of various plants mixed with starch. A traditional Latverian breakfast, humble but nourishing.
The two shared the simple meal that tasted neither particularly good nor particularly bad. Function over flavor. Sustenance to fuel planning.
While they ate, bowls balanced on rocks, they discussed the next action plan.
Doom spoke first, expressing his difficulties to Nolan with the honesty of someone who'd learned that false optimism served no one.
The number of rebels today was far less than before in terms of combat effectiveness and personnel quality. The failed rescue attempts had bled them. The best had died trying to save him.
Even if equipped with more advanced weapons and equipment, superior technology couldn't replace lost experience and numbers. It was unlikely they could regain their previous revolutionary splendor through force alone.
Moreover, it was difficult to gain the support of the local people again. Trust, once broken, healed slowly. The resistance had promised victory too many times. Delivered failure instead.
Doom acknowledged another limitation. He was proficient in witchcraft, possessed individual strength that made him formidable in personal combat.
But facing the shielding technology controlled by Leviathan, magic often became useless. Those containment devices negated his greatest advantage. It was difficult to play a big role against prepared enemies.
However, Nolan already had ideas about this situation. His mind had been working through possibilities during the long night.
He asked the critical question: If they wanted to re-mobilize the Latverian people, what would be the success rate?
Doom frowned, thinking carefully. His newly restored eyes tracked across memories, assessing sentiment and wounds that ran deeper than any torture.
When he spoke, his voice carried caution but also certainty. "According to my past understanding, the people here just want to eat the flesh and bones of every member of the Fortunov family! Almost every Latverian has a blood feud with the ruling class!"
He met Nolan's gaze directly. "I can't guarantee one hundred percent success, but the probability is not low. It's worth a try."
Nolan nodded slightly, eyes narrowed in calculation. Pieces falling into place. A plan forming.
He took a deep breath, decision crystallizing. His voice emerged calm, controlled, carrying the weight of command.
"In that case, let's test the waters with some public opinion offensives first, and then respond according to subsequent developments..."
He turned toward the cave entrance, raising his voice to carry.
"David, come in!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~