With a thought, I sent both drones to move throughout the tunnels to see how they performed, I gave a few hundred burrowers orders to have ore and stone placed at random positions.

Observing their performance at engaging moving targets their aim and rate of fire was adequate, but I needed a couple hundred more to see how they would engage each other.

The sniper drone was next on my list. Its design was clear in my mind even as I stepped back to watch the fabricator pulse and churn.

I envisioned the sniper's role as a silent calculating presence on the battlefield waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It began with a faint squelching sound as the form within started to take shape. The fabricator’s organic fluids bubbled, and slowly, a tall bipedal figure emerged.

I couldn’t help the surge of anticipation, a silent thrill at seeing each detail come to life. Piece by piece, the sniper tore through the membrane that held it in place, shedding the cocoon that had birthed it, until it stood before me in all its cold efficiency.

Its body was different from the others—lean yet powerful, with dense muscle fibres wrapped in a hardened exoskeleton that seemed to ripple as it moved, adapting to every shift in light around it. The camouflaging abilities had already begun, its armour taking on the muted tones of the dimly lit workshop.

I stepped forward, running a hand over the exoskeleton, feeling the resilience beneath my fingertips. The abdominal core was thicker and weighted to create a perfect centre of balance, enhancing stability for steady shots even under fire.

Its legs were long and powerful, each joint layered with shock-absorbing tissue to silence its movements. I tested them with a mental command, watching as it stepped, its segmented joints bending smoothly, each motion as quiet as a breath. The retractable claws on its feet spread wide, gripping the floor with enough force to anchor it firmly, ready for stability in uneven terrain.

With a thought, I directed its gaze to the targets set up along the far wall. Its right arm extended, smooth and deliberate, and the long-range bio-projectile launcher emerged, gleaming faintly as it stretched forward into a cannon-like barrel.

I leaned in to inspect it more closely, noting how the shock-absorbent cartilage lining the barrel would suppress sound even as it fired with lethal precision.

The drone’s eyes atop its head started rotating, adapting seamlessly as it honed in on the targets. I linked briefly with it, allowing myself to see through its perspective—a view of the world that was sharp and focused, stripping away distractions until only the target remained.

Fire, I ordered.

The drone responded instantly. The bio-projectile fired a blur through the air and struck the stone target with a quiet, yet deadly impact. It was perfect—silent, deadly, and precise.

With another command, I ordered a secondary shot and this time I observed as the projectile launcher’s cartilage absorbed the recoil, allowing the drone to remain perfectly still, unshaken by the discharge.

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Satisfied, I moved to the left arm, where the medium-range resin shooter waited. This launcher was engineered for situations where close-quarters combat was necessary.

I ran a hand along the barrel, feeling the cool, smooth surface. At my command, it fired a cluster of hardened resin shards toward the target. Each shard struck true, embedding itself deeply within the surface of the stone.

I could almost see it in action, creating deadly zones of resin cover for retreat or slowing advancing enemies, forcing them into carefully laid traps.

I shifted my focus to the two additional arms designed solely for close combat. The right auxiliary arm extended a blade that glinted under the light, coated in a toxin residue. The toxin had a paralysing agent, one that would leave an enemy immobilized long enough for an escape or a follow-up strike.

I watched it retract with ease, then examined the left auxiliary arm, its claws tapering into lethal points capable of tearing through armour.

The bio-jets along its shoulders and back were essential for the sniper’s role. I tested them, watching each jet pulse and activate, lifting the drone in short, controlled bursts. It moved effortlessly, a seamless flow as it hovered, then repositioned silently.

Every burst was carefully calibrated to minimize noise, allowing it to shift locations rapidly without drawing attention. I ordered a small jump to higher ground within the workshop the drone’s legs tensed, bio-jets fired, and it landed with hardly a sound.

Next, I turned to its stabilization system. With no thorax to support its upper body, I’d embedded a gyro-stabilizing organ deep within its abdomen. It worked harmonizing with a micro-lattice of bio-tendons to absorb even the slightest tremor, allowing the sniper to remain motionless, undeterred by vibrations or shifts in the terrain.

I gave it another command, instructing it to raise its bio-projectile launcher and hold the position without moving. It obeyed, standing firm, the gyro keeping it balanced as if rooted to the ground.

Finally, I examined its head, each multi-spectrum eye embedded with adaptive layers for thermal, night vision, and zoom functions. The eyes cycled smoothly as I tested them, their rotations soundless as they adjusted to various light levels. Through the visual link, I scanned the room in different spectrums, each layer revealing hidden details invisible to the naked eye.

The world appeared vivid, every heat signature and shadow stark against the background. This sniper would see it all—from a body’s faint thermal signature to the smallest twitch in low light, its senses unmatched.

With a final test, I instructed it to engage in a mock stealth manoeuvre. The bio-jets pulsed gently as it shifted, gliding across the floor in near silence. Each step was calculated, and muffled by the shock-absorbent tissue. Its eyes flickered as it scanned the room, adapting as it moved to maintain camouflage. It was nearly invisible, blending seamlessly with the dark, each limb moving and harmonizing with the rest.

With a final command, I ordered it to stand down. It straightened, its multi-spectrum eyes dimming.

I turned back to the fabricator. Now, with the assault, scout, and sniper ready, I issued a command for mass production of the sniper it was time to create the heavy.

With a thought, I ordered my neural implant to play the next audio logs.

Entry 187: Council Orders – 923 A.R.

The Council has officially ordered the cessation of all work on Imreth. They insist that our resources must be returned to Valur, focusing on sustaining our current state rather than expansion. Their blindness to the future astounds me. The terraforming process has already begun, and our work will not stop, despite their demands. I will see to Imreth’s transformation, regardless of the Council’s authority.

Entry 188: 923 A.R. – Escalating Tensions

Despite the Council’s directives, our work continues in secrecy. Imreth's atmosphere begins to thicken, and early microbes introduced to the soil are showing promising adaptation. I reported our findings to the Council, hoping their stance might soften upon witnessing the planet’s progress. Instead, they rebuked us further, calling it ‘a corruption of nature.’ How can they refuse a future that will inevitably support us all?