A plain of yellowish pulped vegetation was spread neatly in a tattered squared shape, ink and the odd paint blotted across the paper world. Areas marked with detailed icons began to shine, and soon, tiny balls of light were expelled from the parchment it originally came from. The light danced and converged until they formed simulations of hills, forests, and mountains which echoed their real counterparts. Once the entire plain was blanketed with holograms, the pictures deformed and twisted themselves once again, correcting and adjusting themselves to the right spots.
The ballet of light would have been fascinating to most people, alas, the only audience was an uncaring machine - the Daedelus type drone Weaver. He exchanged information with Custodian’s databank while depicting holograms on the flimsy map in his mind.
Flying scout drones had already scouted the areas which the map portrayed, allowing Weaver to double check on the accuracy of the map.
‘Weaver, operation was a success. New construction options available,’ Custodian called out to Weaver.
‘Then it’s time for me to do my part,’ Weaver replied.
“Lord Otto,” Weaver spoke out suddenly which startled the person standing across the table.
“Aye? Need something?” Otto asked.
“This map is…”
“Incredible isn’t it? It’s the most detailed map we could scrounge up, and my scouts reported that it should be mostly accurate,” Otto boasted.
Weaver didn’t look up from the table as he said, “I see. It is good that you brought this map. The last time we spoke, we couldn’t establish a clear route. However…”
“However?”
“By coincidence, my people had also acquired a map from a mysterious merchant. My superior is currently in possession of it, and I believe it would be better suited for our purpose,” Weaver continued.
“What? If you say so…” Otto grumbled quietly as he took the map off the table. “So you’re going to fetch your map now?”
“Yes,” Weaver answered as he turned to the person next to him. It was a rather large northman cloaked from head to toe, and only the mask on the person’s face served as proof that it wasn’t just an oversized coat hanger.
From a small opening in the cloak, a small piece of paper was produced and handed over to Weaver.
“Wait, that’s you’re superior?” Otto blurted.
The large northman mechanically turned to Otto, then turned and walked away.
No. It was more like the northman levitated away, but Otto couldn’t be sure so he decided that it was his fatigue catching up to him and dismissed the thought that the northmen could levitate.
Even with that one trivial thought gone, Otto still had questions.
Was the big man a lord? A king? A priest?
Why didn’t he speak to Otto? Was it a northman tradition for higher ranking members to not speak to outsiders?
More questions popped up the moment Weaver opened the map and placed it on the table.
“What in the name of Humanos…”
There were vibrant colors, artistically drawn pictures of forests, comprehensive borders of mountains, and layers of strange symbols all over the map. Was this map just a magical window which allowed people to view a place from the sky?
Otto wanted to touch the map, but he was afraid of breaking whatever magic which was allowing him to view the world from above.
“This is the southern border of Vyssium. And here is the southernmost city,” Weaver pointed out.
“By Saint Sallus’ beard, if it isn’t South’s Break,” Otto murmured as he looked at the picture of the city as seen from above.
“Is that what the city is called?”
“Aye. How did you… No, never mind me. Carry on, please,” Otto said.
Weaver pointed at a long pathway going southwards from the border, and explained, “We’ll be using this road before turning here. After that, it goes directly straight to…”
“The Kingdom of Hetten. Vyssium’s southern cousin,” Otto muttered. “Aye. That’s correct. This isn’t the first time my men had been to Hetten, but they’ve only been to Northern Hetten. You’ll still have to head straight to the capital of Hetten, which by the way, is also named Hetten.”
“Then please take note on the route we’ll be taking. Starting from this northern city, we’ll be heading this way,” Weaver started.
The drone and the Vyssian lord continued to discuss, going back and forth on their arguments. On one hand, the drones were looking for the fastest route. On the other hand, the Vyssians were looking for the safest and more logical route. After all, the humans didn’t want to cross rivers which didn’t bother the drones since they could just walk underwater.
“That settles it then. I estimate a month’s long journey to the capital. I hope you keep my men and my goods safe throughout the journey,” Otto said.
“Once the caravan reaches the capital, half of the Varangians will break off and continue south as agreed. You will only pay for the mercenaries that will go with you the entire journey,” Weaver added.
“Aye, of course. Half a mercenary company for free? I wouldn’t say no to extra free protection, especially since the war with the Rhanks could make traveling a bit feisty.” Otto nodded with satisfaction.
Otto was looking for cheap mercenaries to escort his goods to Hetten, and since most of his levies were still under control by the warbands ravaging West Rhankia, he turned to seek help from the drones.
Weaver, on the other end, was finding a way to send a small party of drones to establish a base at Hetten without alarming the natives too much, so this was a good opportunity to do so.
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“Is it possible if you could give us a week to prepare?” Weaver asked.
“If possible, I’d like it if-”
Otto was interrupted when a Vyssian messenger arrived with a pair of warrior drones in tow. “Lord Otto. I regret to inform you that the Vyssians sieging Castle Kilothar has been defeated, and that Lord Hambleot has been captured.”
“What?! Hambleot’s my cousin! Prepare my horse!” Otto panicked the moment he received the message. Just before he left, he turned to ask, “Ahem. Sir Weaver, we’ll have to delay this discussion for some other time.”
“Of course. Take as much time as you need.” Weaver waved.
“Ah, also, is it possible if I could buy that magic map?” Otto asked.
“Come back and we could also discuss that.”
“A’right, lad. I’ll be back in a few,” Otto gave his farewells and left.
Weaver raised the map from the table then asked to himself, “Humans also buy these kinds of useless things?”
‘How are things on your end? Did the organic agree?’ Custodian asked.
‘Yes. This will certainly not alarm the humans in Hetten. The Hettenian drones could set up in a mountain or cave, and create a forward base there,’ Weaver replied. ‘However, there is a slight delay as the human Otto’s cousin was captured when fighting the Rhanks. Should we do something about this?’
‘Not right now. With the completion of the Protocol 6, I could start moving units to the surface to prepare the attack on Rhankia,’ Custodian replied. ‘I need to find out what the humans are doing with my disabled drones, and take them back if possible.’
‘What? You’re not going to continue attacking the troglodytes?’ Weaver asked.
‘Negative. I have no qualms with the organics, and I have gained many farms from them. I am sealing them off for now,’ Custodian declared.
‘Seal them off?’ Weaver asked.
‘It is as I said. Niner, do it now,’ Custodian ordered.
Deep below Mount Varangia, Niner watched as worker drones prepared to block off tunnels and holes across the lower levels. Thanks to the Incursions system, Custodian could tell if there were still openings to the troglodyte territories since the system would only point out available targets if the A.I.’s drones could reach them.
“Cover them up! Only one gate is to be made! If I see you putting the gate in the wrong spot, I’m sending you to the recycling centers!” Niner shouted, and the worker drones got to work.
The number of potential troglodyte territory incursions slowly decreased as tunnels were closed, until only the path through the gate remained.
“Welp. Bye bye froggy organics! And hellooooo froggy servants,” Niner exclaimed as he turned around to hold up a baby high troglodyte sitting on the floor. The baby cooed and poked Niner with its tiny horn, but it wasn’t showing any hostile intent to the drone. “Let’s go, little buddy!”
Niner navigated through the busy dungeon complex until he reached Custodian’s core room section which was reserved for the A.I.’s Daedeli drones.
As usual, Niner noisily announced his entrance, “It’s meee! Niner! Hey, Master Custodian! Some of the turrets are still firing at our organic slaves! Could you do something about that?”
In front of the giant red glass ball, there was a minotaur-like statue bowing down. It held its weapons down, and its horns were digging through the metal floor.
“That will be all, Drone 11. Or should I say Minos?” Custodian called out.
“Thank you, Master Custodian. I will prove myself to be a faithful servant,” Minos replied then left the room.
Custodian turned to Niner then said, “Did you know that Minos still has memories of being a scout drone?”
“Oooh really? What does he remember?” Niner asked.
“Being beaten into a pulp by troglodytes, of course. Beaten by the likes of you, organic,” Custodian’s eye stared at the baby high troglodyte that was cradled around Niner’s arms.
The troglodyte gulped then tried to touch the giant ball of glass, but its stubby arms were too short. It could only cry in failure, still trying to grasp the giant big ball of red floating in the middle of the room.
“Master Custodian, I-... I still think we need to capture some adult troglodytes and pacify them. The new troglodyte allies cannot grow properly just by feeding them,” a nervous female voice called out from a corner of the room.
“I do not fully understand, Red. I thought that the only requirement for the organics to grow is to give them lots of meat?” Custodian pointed out.
“Please trust me in this one, Master!” Red bowed as she begged.
Custodian remained quiet for a while, then turned to Niner. “What do you think, Niner?”
“What do you mean ‘What do you think’? Does this squishy meatbag look like a rock to you? I’m a mineral expert! Not a walking biomatter expert!” Niner scoffed as he raised the baby troglodyte, exciting it.
“I see. Very well, Red. As you are the only other drone who is… at an acceptable level when dealing with the humans, you will temporarily replace Weaver as diplomat. Weaver is strangely capable at learning languages at a fast pace, so I’ll need to recall him so he could learn how to communicate with the troglodytes,” Custodian declared.
“As you wish, Master Custodian, and thank you!” Red bowed once more then left.
“You hear that, little guy? We’ll learn how to understand you soon!” Niner pinched the baby troglodyte’s horn playfully.
“Finally, you. What do you think of the organic auxiliaries?” Custodian asked.
“Minos loves the squishy meatbags, and I could see why. These things make for amazing worker drones in a way!” Niner exclaimed.
“Explain.”
“It took me some time, but I got a small group of troglodytes to start hacking away at some ores at the iron mine. Sure, they might pick a fight with the spider drones, but they’re so simple to maintain! Just remember to toss some foodstuffs from time to time or they lose interest,” Niner answered.
Obviously Custodian didn’t want to rely on non-drones for its work, but it wanted to save up resources to create. Besides, the cost to complete Protocols 1D (Memory Protocol) and 4F (Blueprint Protocol) were both 5000 units of anti-mana in weight each so by saving up for a Mk1 Forward Outpost Mind, it would also unlock a new memory and blueprints.
“Keep looking for more ways to exploit the organics to our advantage. I want to save costs,” Custodian ordered.
“Of course, of course! Come on, buddy. Let’s go find new ways to enslave your fellow organics!” Niner exclaimed as he carried the baby troglodyte with him.
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On the other side of the dungeon, the ground shook as hundreds of froggy feet stomped the rocky floor. Unlike the last army, this troglodyte army was much grander and much more bloodthirsty, and at its lead was the biggest among the warrior troglodytes - Huatotle.
He carried a rage-filled face, and his bloodlust was gradually getting stronger as he got closer and closer to his target. He ran through various ways to rip the iron demons apart in his mind, and his hands clutched his large mace harder.
His brother, the ‘Crowned One’ Sahototle died in battle defending against the iron demons, and that was the last straw for Huatotle. The idea of letting the iron demons roam around Tilapolan land was no longer tolerable to him and his kin.
But his train of thought was cut short when he was faced with a wall...
A wall that shouldn’t be there.
“What?” Huatotle croaked out loud.
He placed his hand against the rock wall. Something was strange. The scent of the forward scouts were here, and he could also smell the air of death, so why was there a wall here?
Huatotle raised his mace, then smashed it against the rock wall. Beneath the layer of rock was a thick metal wall. No matter how many times he tried, the metal wall stood. It was going to take more than just a slab of bronze to break through the steel wall.
“Send scouts around! Find the other tunnels!” Huatotle ordered furiously.
The scouts scrambled from the army and all reported back hours later with the same answer. The demons blocked them off, and there was no way through. If there was a way in or out, the demons had cleverly disguised them well.
“What now, Huatotle?” a warrior asked.
“Get a lot of polans and tools, and start digging through this metal wall,” Huatotle ordered with a sigh. As his army dispersed to prepare for the long haul, Huatotle sat in front of the obstructing wall, placed his hand against it, then meditated quietly.