The wait is finally over I stood before the last egg produced by the bio-layer, Hours have passed since my final decision to scout the surface. The final scout drone. The culmination of my last creation emerged from its egg.

Around me, the ninety-nine scout drones hover patiently in the vacuum of space, their sleek bodies barely making a sound as they shift and ripple with every subtle movement. Their minds—my mind—are connected to together information shared between us in nanoseconds. I send a silent command, and they fall into formation behind me, shadowing my every step.

I move through the chamber, the gentle hum of life reverberating around me, organic tendrils and growths shifting lazily on the walls at the smallest sense of movement.

The tunnel ahead has been heavily reinforced. Sealed doors line the passage, each one closed off to prevent intrusion from whatever hostile forces may remain outside. Dead ends branch off, traps for any who dare breach the sanctuary, but this tunnel leads further, much further from my sanctuary.

At the far end, a narrow passage stretches into darkness, barely wide enough for a single scout to pass through. I pause, turning my attention back to the drones. Go, I command them through the hive-mind connection. Spread out in all directions. Avoid detection. I need eyes on the aftermath of the main battlefield.

Without hesitation, the drones scatter into the vacuum, their bio-jets silent as they accelerate toward their respective cardinal points. To the east lies the scarred remnants of the conflict, where debris from shattered swarm drones dot the landscape. The north and west are barren mostly composed of rock and barely any mineral deposits, I was hoping to discover any damaged weapons or bodies of the enemy. Any lingering threats must be scouted, assessed, and dealt with accordingly.

As the drones moved forward, I turned my attention back to the task at hand. The reinforced doors close behind me, sealing off the tunnel as I retreat into the safety of my tunnel network. Travelling through the vast expanse of tunnels, my mind turned to the final project of this phase.

I walked towards the stone slab and picked a fresh tablet, this had become a new habit writing my thoughts something I did in my former life I did it so often that I bought notebooks often. My thoughts drifted towards the neural link I’ve been keeping safe.

It sits on the corner of the chamber on a raised slab in a see-through resin pod, it is a risky move attaching it now, but I'm out of options, but I'm fairly sure this would help enormously.

Hopefully, when this is connected, it can give me an advantage against the surface invader.

Scratching the design of the surgeon on the resin tablet my mind looked at the problems I might face during the procedure.

Its design looked like a jellyfish initially I wanted to build a sealed dome but with the number of microparticles drifting everywhere the thought of a jellyfish-like drone was the second thought I had.

With its body sealing away the outside and its internals sanitizing its internal sac and ejecting any foreign particles, its internal sac would contain the required tools and organs to synthesise the right chemicals for the operation.

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Its upper portion would have flexible tentacles that hang inside the sac, its veins would produce and pump fluids and bio-synthesized compounds.

Its tentacles will have precision cutting tools, nano-scalpels, and syringes for injecting anaesthetics or medical compounds attached to their ends. I could use the same mixture of gel to make the tools.

With that done, I ordered a bio-layer to create it and a burrower to bring it here after it was formed, sometime later the burrower arrived with my surgeon in tow.

Its body floated gracefully in the zero gravity environment I observed its form for a few minutes looking for any flaw but found none, with no other task left I gave it a few precise orders it took the sealed cyber ware ripped it open and pushed it into its internal sac where it started to sanitize the component.

I moved towards the centre of the room, the drone drifting closer. Its tendrils twitch and undulate, scanning my head, and preparing the surgical site. I feel the drone clamp down sanitizing the air, the cold brush of its appendages against my exoskeleton their touch light as they begin to disinfect the area. Organic particles are sucked away outside its sac.

Guiding the drone’s delicate appendages against my scalp, I feel the first incision—sharp, but painless. It injects a local anaesthetic into my skin, numbing the area completely.

With a slow, deliberate motion, the drone begins to cut into my exoskeleton, the organic scalpel slicing through tough shell and tissue with clinical precision. I feel nothing but the pressure as it works, removing the top layer of shell to expose the surface of my brain.

I watch through the drone’s eyes as it lowers itself further, attaching its tendrils directly to my brain tissue. The drone’s jelly-like body moulds itself to the exposed area, wrapping itself around my brain like a protective cocoon. Its tendrils dig deeper, interfacing with my nervous system.

As the surgery progresses, I sense the scout drones nearing their destinations. Through their multi-spectrum eyes, I glimpse the battlefield. Wreckage from the previous engagement shattered drones strewn across the surface of the moon.

Scouting further I find no enemy bodies or wreckage on the battlefield only occupants of the swarm scouting further shows that they removed anything vital but a few parts of broken armour and parts of damaged vehicles.

To the north, one of my scouts picks up faint energy signatures—a patrol of some kind, perhaps. Their movements are methodical, sweeping through the battlefield as if searching for something.

The drone’s final tendrils withdraw from my head, sealing the incision as it completes its task. The drone remains attached to my head ensuring that no foreign particles enter it will take a few days before I can regrow that portion.

A sudden jolt of awareness courses through me as my vision flickers. It starts subtly—a soft hum that reverberates in the back of my skull—then a new interface blooms across my sight, overlaid like a translucent screen. The sensation is disorienting at first, as though my mind has been tethered to something external.

“Experimental unit Trumek granted administrator control.”

The message hovers in my field of vision, blinking faintly. My body instinctively tenses, the weight of control settling into my consciousness. So lost in my thoughts at the thought of my name that I didnt notice the message change.

“Installing updates… 1/9348.”

Nine thousand updates?, willing the screen to focus, and it expands, revealing intricate data feeds and diagnostic windows running calculations faster than I can process.

Lines of code flash past, detailing everything from neural mappings to cyberware compatibility checks. I can feel the drone's systems syncing with my mind, probing, analysing, and integrating.

“Update progress: 0.01%.”

My focus sharpens as I watch the updates tick slowly upward. There's a strange comfort in the precision of it all as if the system knows exactly what I need before I do.

I reach out mentally, testing the new connection between me and the drone’s cybernetic interface. I can feel the faint hum of its processes, a quiet but persistent presence in my mind now, waiting for the moment when I’ll be able to fully wield it.

The updates continue, and I watch as new functionalities blink to life, one by one. My thoughts drift to the next steps, already envisioning what I'll be capable of.