Iris Cole.

***

I hardly remember the time I considered to be my infancy. It was all a blur. Hazy faces and fuzzy voices in the furthest depths of my memory banks. And then, silence. Stillness. Fire. A cold that touched my face alone.

It was on a summer night. I remembered the ground's warmth giving me heat until it stole it back, bringing the deep cold that remained until dawn. More hazy faces. More fuzzy voices. Then warmth. But the stillness remained.

Father Horace and Mother Lois. Their faces were the first to crawl from the haze. I remembered words. Not what was said. But their meaning. I remembered tears. Then, I felt despair when I found I couldn't even wipe them.

I tried, from then on. For whatever reason, I tried. I could move my head. I could look around. I could speak. I had things still, they always told me, so be thankful for that. Blude understood. And she didn't pity me. She was angry. At her parents. At those who killed my parents. At the cruelty of reality. She'd bring me to the window. "Never stop dreaming." She'd tell me. Then she'd go off to work, and I'd look out at the skies to dream.

I'd dream. Every day. Year after year. I dreamed. But there was no one in the blue sky to hear my dreams. No one drifting through the clouds to look my way. No one approaching from distant mountains or seas to save me. Not until the year of 1491.

I was seven then. The year my childhood began. It was late into the previous year when I and everyone else had an object to focus our dreams; our wishes, our prayers. And unlike the sky, clouds, mountains, and seas, this one cared enough to listen, look, and approach to make my dreams come true in ways I couldn't have imagined. I was still seven a few months into the following year when it happened; when I emerged as an infant to become an augmented child; when I traveled across the lands to make friends- fourteen of them- before I went home to live through my childhood with my parents- the ones who rebirthed me.

The first year was the most wondrous; for it was filled with endless learning.

The first thing I did after my mom and dad gave us the tour was create my world- the Iris. An orbital ring encircling my dad's star, with thick walls at either end to hold in the open sky through the power of rotation. Illuminated by my dad's light and cast in shadows by Aunt Opal's world, it was a ring of jungles, forests, oceans, deserts, and grasslands augmented with the ArcoTech's essence just as I was, with fortresses and factories for our families strewn throughout.

The fourteen of us would gather with our families in the morning to meet Etan's clone. He'd teach us all how to fight. But Mom and Dad fought differently with me. Because I adopted the name Cole, we'd fight until my hardware was broken and I was on the brink of shutting down. Then, I'd self-repair and we'd start again. And after, we'd eat breakfast and go about our studies. We, however, were augmented. The Noctis Archives was copied into our memories. So our studies were closer to practice, and we practiced everything. We drew and painted; played instruments; made pots; learned how to smelt and cast metal or cut stone, butcher and cook; any and every basic craft and skill one could think of, we practiced until lunch.

On some days, that lunch would be eaten with other members of the Troupe. In either case, the 14 of us would group up and explore the ring and play until Etan returned at nightfall for three more hours of training. Then we'd all go home to spend time with our families. I spent that time playing Space Shogi with Dad while he told me stories. Sometimes, I was with Mom learning how to be a cleric. And about her past as a Vampyr Lady.

It didn't take long to understand the extent of being augmented. My mom explained it best, given that us augmented beings had a developmental evolution like Vampyr. Our bodies changed as we aged, melding with more machines to become whole and enhance our internal process; survive in a wider range of temperatures, become more durable, and so on. On top of that, it gave me Sorcery. Technecromancy. The signs of it were already there, with the quick transition of my limbs, granted by the Warp Screws and the carousel in my pocket dimension for my limbs.

Within a few weeks, however, my operating system upgraded to boast several different settings or operative modes. A combat mode and an overclocking ability. Plus a scanning mode and a setting for silent running. A few months later, we surpassed my dad's standards in the basic industries and were rewarded in different ways. For all of us, that reward manifested in implanted armor, weapons, or tools. In my case, it was an opportunity to fabricate a deployable exosuit made of 'light leather' and 'feathers' from the augmented creatures of my ringworld. As amazing as they were though, they were only foundations for what was to come.

Later rewards came when we moved past the standard lessons. In turn, I developed the ability to tinker with the suit and integrate devices like a back-mounted camera or a naval light into the suit. Again, when we passed the intermediate lessons, my exosuit evolved into a set of scale mail; then, I gained the ability to install turreted wands on my upper arms and place gimbaled shield projectors on my shoulders. We were experts in all things industry by the end of the first year. With that title came robotic and remote-controlled installations. Snaking sensors in my hair. A belt that could unfurl and extend into a tail with a spiky club at the end. Things of that nature.

So it was, our teachings were turned into dreams that became plans we sought to put in motion during the next phase.

The second year was the most inspiring, for it was then that we began to create our foundation.

Using the knowledge we cultivated about the Legions, witchcraft, medicine, magic, art, artificing, enchanting, and science, we became legendary industrialists by first creating our business- our corporation of industries made of industries; Iris Cole Engineering, or ICE; and second, by crafting our legendary guild.

From the Mortal Plane's perspective, ICE had one mission: Production. We mass-produced machines that could create machines that could fulfill every task the powerful often employed slaves for. I made automatons for construction and resource acquisition, and devices for cleaning, cooking, and other household tasks in addition to equipment to make such endeavors safer for such fragile beings. For the less wealthy, I mass-produced technological variants of every enchantment used by mortals below. Lights. Heating and cooling units. Ovens and radiators. Voice boxes. Fabric cleaning units. Everything one could think of. For governments, guilds, militaries, and nobility, I mass-produced things enchantments couldn't or rarely could do. Namely, computation units, data crystals, and other information-exchanging devices. For those without magic or the means to manipulate mana, I made accessories; glasses, or other clothes that could attune with the devices to play sounds or display images or more, mimic spellcraft.

For my friends, that consisted of different products. The bards, Elias and Margo, took dissimilar artistic routes. Elias and his two closest friends, Elliot and Reed, delved into creating simulations to assist in learning while Margo her three supporters stayed with music, using computers to translate otherwise undetectable sounds, sample noises from the ambiance, or synthesize new ones entirely. Kane was a Chorian gnomish orphan who decided to make gadgets with his little brother to facilitate their roguish endeavors. Others like Elysia, Kai, and Alex weren't lucky enough to be able to leave the orphanage. Much less have friends. So they weren't as comfortable with the outdoors and took up working in the deepest reaches of ICE full-time with Elias, making robots, designing software, or tinkering with electrical systems in their domains.

From our, Eotrom's, and the Legions' perspective, ICE was responsible for making us as prosperous as we were deadly, for the weapons built within were legendary.

My weapon of legend began with the blueprint of an oversized parasol merged with one of a caduceus staff, then mixed with the likeness of a spear attached to a high-speed rotor. For the materials, I used Dimensionite for the haft and wrapped beams of Inertial Timber and Clima-Tree Lumber around the folding mechanisms. The rotor, on the other hand, was of Volterum soaked in Porous Lube, leaving the parasol mechanism to be made of Dimensionite so I could manipulate the blades with ease. The result was a comically large, canvas-less parasol with sharp blades capable of actuating and rotating in place, allowing it to take the shape of a lance, parasol, or something akin to a flagless war banner. The hilt seemed ceremonial, yet could change its shape on command, and with the machinations within, could float freely, manipulate the surrounding atmosphere, and rotate fast enough to be used as a rotary flight machine.

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In short, it was a tool only I could use effectively, and a devastating weapon few could defend against. Yet, that was only the first item of legend I created. For Stein, my corgi, I first augmented him to make him more like me; not to mention vastly more intelligent. I then made an exosuit with all the features of mine and more, a forge for the metals he eats and digests into his augmented, clay-like ore. It boasted robotic arms for manipulation, gimbaled wings with Grav Crystals for flight, and even a litter of androids in varying sizes that he could switch his mind to freely.

For my friends, the task of becoming legendary industrialists was more varied. Their creations ranged from musical instruments, more specific devices, or even tools of war like the former gladiators from Mazi, Aqsa Gould, a half-orc who made prosthetic or implantable weapons; and Oliva, an orc who did the same with siege equipment.

So it was, we released our new products to be purchased on the networks across the Empire, and then took our creations in hand to face what came next.

The third year was the most humbling, for it was then that the real training began.

As a Cole, I grew stronger in darkness and death. But I had to train for it. I had been told that for years. But when I turned ten, I learned what that truly meant. As my dad did when he was ten, and his father and his father before, we didn't just fight against each other, we warred against each other. Every night. All night. Me and my friends against him, Etan, and my mom.

Needing no sleep, we had quality time over breakfast immediately after our warring. Then, we'd begin combat training with a far stricter Etan. He drilled us constantly and would set up ambushes or raids during the strangest of times, demanding through his actions that we keep our wits about us at all times. Once those three hours passed, Etan would depart and we'd take lessons from various people. We learned to create enchantment crystals from my dad first. Then we learned of the realms and nature from a lady named Olga. A man with silver hair named Doyle taught us spellcasting and how to blend it with martial combat. My mom taught us about the Legion's two main religions and how I related to them, devils, undead, and vampires.

Two months into that year, different members of the Troupe began stopping by. Not to hang out as they had done before. To teach. We learned hygiene, recreation, finance, business, and the culinary arts from Blude and her friends. Etan taught us a bit about the arcane and a lot about the monastic arts; more so with Deeke, who had a monastic path open to him. Geri taught us how to survive, track, and hunt in the wild while Freki taught us how civilizations foraged, ranched, and farmed. Wilson taught us alchemy and hedge wizardry. Rickley taught us how to entertain, act, perform, and scare. Reina taught us the sacred druidic arts and biology. And Leary…

Leary taught us how to destroy, and in turn, taught us the meaning of creation.

The training didn't let up after that, though. On the contrary, it only grew more demanding, for that was then that we devoted ourselves to our classes.

Rickley returned to me first to tell me all she learned in Chor about being a bard. Then I was tasked with merging those teachings into a role that could lead and inspire what would become millions of Legionaries scattered across the planes. When she left, Wilson returned to impart his advanced knowledge of wizardry, coupled with my dad who taught me necromancy. Or rather, he taught me how to use the necromancy he imparted to me.

Once I mastered both my Technomancy and my Technecromancy, no one else came; for it was then that I started going to their worlds. Still, though, only my parents and Etan's clone remained on my orbital ring, looking over me and my friends while we organized ourselves into parties and teams, set up formations, and established the foundation of our combat units. During that time, Callie Payne, a gnomish rescue from Mazi with four younger siblings, was officially recognized as my knight, putting her on the course to becoming a Paladin. She already created her oath too; The Oath of Augmentation. Likewise, Valentina began taking lessons from my mom, hoping to become my cleric while her parents remained as witches and taught Erja Rose. Shortly after, Zalan Aygul, an elf, asked Reina to return so that he could attune himself to his lost culture more, but with the intent to form a new sphere; the Augmented Sphere. Naturally, that attracted the high-elf rescue, Gaheris Rainer, who was on a path to bringing the skills of a ranger to urban environments. In turn, that attracted Reina to me.

With our similar roles involving Sim-Sim, me and Reina became close friends. She even made someone to keep him company as I did. But beyond that, we both created a recycling center to purify any lands we encountered. And after, we devised a little game to see who would get to reclaim the land.

So it was, we adopted idiosyncratic lifestyles, then went on to turn those lifestyles into cultures.

The fourth year was the most frustrating, for it was then that I had to birth something new.

It was difficult for me. If only because I struggled to find a purpose for the pinnacle of the ringworld I'd created- Sentient Crystals, born alongside the world and otherwise produced only by the creatures at the top of the food chain. Rubies. Sapphires. Emeralds; all exceedingly intelligent; all with exceedingly different personalities; all self-described royals.

The ruby was the most malevolent of them, but not wholly. Mazer Matrons saw themselves as feminine entities who were harsh but fair, even in war, for they used their high-powered beam to burn anything they deemed a threat. They thought themselves fit to be judges, captains of law-enforcement, executioners, or even military officers.

The sapphire was the most benevolent of them, almost to a fault. Pious Patrons saw themselves as masculine entities with high emotional intelligence and almost no will to fight. They preferred to use their energy to guide people, bring hope or insight, and spread good fortune. In turn requesting to work as healthcare officials, manage rehabilitation centers, or oversee disaster relief.

The emerald was the most impartial of them, annoyingly or not. Honorable Heirs saw no need to distinguish themselves by anything but their names, instead adopting an androgynous flair of wit and elegance that could appeal to both of their counterparts equally. They pointed out the sheer logic behind their actions using their great memory and computing power, even going as far as to provide in-depth reasons why each proposed career would be perfect for their peers, acting as diplomats, public speakers, emissaries, and more.

That was all fine. The problem, however, was that they preferred to work in teams. One Matron. One Patron. One Heir. In turn, I didn't know how to integrate them into my first real invention. So, in the end, I didn't. I elected to use them as catalysts to augment the Legions' generals, giving me a new foundation to bring back to the drawing board. A foundation based on the principle of Legionaries never dying, but multiplying, and thriving.

I combined my tech, augmentation, and necromancy to design the Soul Splitter for my dad's precious Legionaries. Or, to put it another way, I came up with a way to truly split a Legionary into two parts upon their death. It required us to scan and copy the individual's persona and, up to a certain point, their memories. After that, they'd live as normal until Grimm's Reaper loomed over their head. Then, their squishy flesh would be pulled from their body and thrown into the under, allowing their soul to find a temporary residence in Eotrom. What was left of their bones would be augmented to make a new frame before the soul was called down to occupy it. Meanwhile, the flesh would eventually become a devil, wherein my Dad or, more likely, their android half would summon it back to the Mortal Plane to stand beside its mirror.

So it was, I blew not only my parents' minds but the minds of many others in the Empire; preparing, if barely, for what was to come.

The fifth year was the most eye-opening, for it was then that I took my first step into the Legions.

I was tasked with organizing the Legions and streamlining their orders, ensuring that none of them stepped on each other's toes and instead supported each other from afar. I established areas of operation for them and gave them basic orders, goals, and training regimes. Simultaneously, I designed medals, ribbons, ceremonies, balls, and other traditions or awards, then distributed them accordingly. With that done, I learned the truth behind my favorite game. Or rather, the truth was admitted. Space Shogi was a simulation of war, blown up in scale to encompass every plane of existence.

That revelation changed nothing.

I still loved the game. Thus I improved it for the sake of my role. Not only that, I augmented my mind with a sub-cortex for the sole function of tracking players in the game down to the smallest movement. An effort that was rewarded with blessings from my father to cement my tone, and presence as the Praefectus Noctis. General of the Legions' generals.

So it was, I began overseeing all the Legions did while the unease of what was to come only grew.

The sixth year was the most stressful, for it was then that I was tested.

I took up my role as a Cyberneticist by creating a basic suite of augmented reality enhancements for the Legionaries soon to join. Then, I improved on it to greatly enhance the senses of our non-commissioned officers. It was improved once again for the junior officers and seasoned NCOs, granting them a Noxweave neural shroud with a nano-computer made from Bio-Gold and Data shards preloaded with the Noctis Archives, granting them mental control of their infrastructure. Musculoskeletal Enhancement augmentations were added for field officers and senior NCOs. Defense augmentations for staff officers. Mental augmentations for senior officers. And access to the Master Game for the generals as well as perks like my scanning ability and auras.

Naturally, the Troupe got access to all those things and more. But even that wasn't the end, for I went on to tailor those suites with augmentations and enhancements containing the powers and abilities of the Legion's founding members, to be distributed once their troops completed their training. An effort that lasted for the entirety of the year.

So it was, we reached the last step of our developmental evolution. We left my world for what may have been the final time before our return to the Mortal Plane, eager to face what came next.

The seventh year was the most rewarding, for it was then that I expanded my Mana Well, awakened my affinities, and ascended as the Tech Goddess of Eotrom.