Over the next week, I got to know my new Allies.

Melisathie described her people's culture, as a strict hierarchy. Brought about from turmoil and strife. Life under the earth had not been kind to them. But as all Alfar do, they adapted over a few short generations.

Well short to them, thousand upon thousand of years to everyone else. Where once their people lived in harmony with the forests and plains. Now they had learn to love rock and stone. As bizarre as it sounds, they seemed to be Alfar cosplaying as Dvergar.

She went on to describe the Svartálfar . Once they were Dökkálfar, who delved further into the depths and went mad. Something they found down there warped and twisted them into creatures truly cruel and depraved. They could no longer live thousands of years, merely hundreds, but they made up for it by gaining the fecundity of the mortals races. Eh, they bred like rabbits, comparatively. Soon they were yet another trial that the Dökkálfar had to face. Constantly attacking their kin, and taking slaves.

While we talked, I helped craft chambers to her liking. Including several workshops for her crafting. She became endlessly fascinated with 3D printer technology, once we moved on to designing her furniture. I ordered her a couple her her own projects.

She was interested in finding ways to enchant our weapons and even the bots at some point.

My conclusion, she was a pleasant person to be around, so long as you didn't try to push her into anything.

Halvithor on the other hand, was a bit of a Prima Donna.

Everything had to be just so. Especially his new Server Room. The housekeeping bots had to spend days rearraigning every little detail. Sharp angle seemed to offend him in certain places, while they were essential in others.

I had to make a special trip to Rita's office just to get him fitted with a ISLC and while we where there he also demanded several other bits of Metal.

Rita was happy to tinker him up and just about drooled over his augments once she scanned him. I got the impression his tech was ages ahead of the Metalpunk World's.

On the way back he explained that he was "absorbing" the ISLC into his own neural networking device. He found the Metal to be "quaint", but he did need to absorb some of it to adapt to the nature of information transfer here.

Outside of that first day, I hadn't seen him physically since. He just messaged me his progress concerning his infiltration of the ISL and his level of increasing knowledge of the denizens of the Layer. He seemed quite proficient in decoding the Data Smiths' culture, and soon enough was founding his own faction.

Honestly, I was thankful I didn't have to deal with him on a daily basis. His energy was somewhat draining, and his artificiality disturbed me. He had told me himself, that other than a few organic neural cells he was completely augmented. Some of the augment were organic in nature, but not like bioware. There was nothing of his original cells used to comprise these augments, this was pure splicing.

I didn't understand it and thus I found it freaky.

I tried to not show it or hold it against him. After all, I summoned him. I owed him at least that much.

He did help me design a new V.I.

I designated this new program Sen E. Shal. Why? Because I thought it was funny.

Sen was designed to run my base. She would handle needed expansions and logistics. Her avatar was a endlessly coiling serpent comprised of steel smoke. Her personality was no nonsense and direct.

That freed up so much of my time.

Meowser was happy to keep running the defenses. Watching for threats and using the Bots to keep the area secure. I thought about getting together with Halvithor and designing another V.I. just for defense, but I decided to hold off on that for now. At least until I had something else to occupy Meowser's attention.

Between her and Meowser, I could focus on starting a grove, and completing Daily Quests and "random" encounters. Situations which had fallen into a monotony. They had become simple and uninspiring. 114GC and 100,000 NBs a day for slaying new but unchallenging creatures and performing simple tasks.

Usually exercise or training with the Scouts.

Rathiel took over their command with an extremely regimented format. They were constantly running drills and performing patrols even though the Bots kept the nearby areas safe. He demanded discipline and they responded well to his stern nature.

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Training with them allowed me to get to know them. The Scouts were as far as I could tell complete individuals. I half expected cookie cutter personalities and simple NPC style behavior. I was very happy to see this wasn't the case. Their jokes and comradery where a welcome sight.

The Daily Training with them, finally started to help me get use to my new stats and begin to solidify a cohesive form of melee and hand to hand combat utilizing both my gigantic frame and my immense strength and speed.

Rathiel himself took great delight in educating me on the subtleties of swordsmanship. I often had to heal from his lessons, but once armed and properly armored these training sessions however embarrassing now, would make me a terror later.

When not training, or attending to my now reduced duties, I spent my time preparing the soil inside the wall for the first trees of my Grove. Saturating the land with casts of Perfect Soil. On the fourth day of this, I planted the first three tree seeds in a equilateral triangle 33' to a side. I knew that later the choice of tree specie would matter immensely for the purposes of the Grove and how I wanted to Manasculpt the surrounding Ley Lines. Yet for this first attempt it was not relevant, this was a learning experiment and any improvement of the land and its energies would be welcome.

I spent that evening casting Plant Growth over and over. By morning of the fifth day the trees were in the early stages of adult hood.

That afternoon, I planted six more trees creating a circle of nine trees. I took my time to make sure there was a balance to the placement of the new seeds. I repeated the Plant Growth spell until I nearly passed out.

I had to spend the sixth day, replenishing the soil. It had been stripped of resources by the rapid growth of the trees. Thankfully we had plenty of water available, and Perfect Soil took care of the rest.

Scraggly grasses had started growing in the area. They were sad looking but obviously tough plants. I decided to leave them be. Anything that tough deserved a shot as far as I was concerned.

While it wasn't much, this project felt like a small victory. Bringing a touch of life to these Wastes. I quite enjoyed the feelings the sight of these plants invoked in me.

Even the weak and sickly Ley Line under the base had shown an ever so slight improvement. Progress.

On the dawn of the seventh day, I got a message. I found it to be troubling.

[ A World Boss has continued formation. 4%

Defeat the World Boss for increased Authority. ]

So it increased 2% a week? That was good news, or at least better news than it could have been.

I had 46 weeks to get ready for a World Boss. Not looking forward to that. But at least it wasn't tied to the Incursions and the Integration level.

Speaking of, the random encounters over the week had brought my Integration up by 12% now sitting at 38% total. If the pattern held it would go up another 20% after the incursion was repelled.

As noon rolled around, I found myself not the least bit nervous.

Rathiel and the Scouts were ready, the Bots were always ready, and I was ready.

We were still going to start with the same plan as last time. Let the Bots defend the Wall, and let the turrets punish anything approaching our position. Only throwing ourselves at anything that survives all of that.

I whispered, "Bring it on!" while staring out at the Wastes from the roof of the Main Building.

[ Incursion is being rolled. 24. ]

A single large red portal torn itself open. Once again at the edge of the land I owned, and almost before it finished something was throwing itself at it.

A head barely smaller than the portal, crossed into this world. Horned, Spiked and Scaled. It roared. An odd guttural bellow

"Holy Trees is that a Dragon?" Rathiel exclaimed.

The creature squirmed it's way through. Dull green scales. Two enormous wings it started to unfurl. Two rather stumpy hind legs. A long whip-like tail ending in a venom dripping spike. Burning red eyes containing nothing but rage and hunger. It roared again, a higher pitched sound this time. I wondered what that meant?

"Wyvern." I intoned fascinated. I always used to hate the Dragon/Wyvern debate in games books and films. It was so unproductive. There were almost always clear distinctions between Draconids. "Likely no breath attack, But that tail's venom is incredibly lethal. No where near as intelligent as a Dragon. Look at how it's barely looking around, no curiosity." I shook my head in disappointment.

It launched itself into the air. Those huge wings fapping furiously.

I chuckled. "Bad move, dummy."

Rathiel stared at me a moment. His look screaming, "Are you serious?"

I returned his stare, "Yes, I have a thing about Dragons. When we kill this creature I probably going to spend a few days studying it. And no, I'm not worried because it lacks both the armor and magic of a true Dragon. The turrets will kill it. Easily"

He could feel my confidence, but in the world he's form even Dracoforms smaller than this beast were absolute terrors. So I understood his trepidation.

It circled several times, gaining altitude and speed. Looking for a good approach or just instinct?

Hmmm. Faster than I'd thought it would be, but not fast enough.

It dived and almost immediately crossed into the range of the turrets.

1.

Meowser had to adjust the aim, but soon enough the beast was being pelted by heavy fire.

2

It was tanking bullets better than I thought it would.

3

Then two smart rockets hit the creature. Blowing it wings to smithereens.

4

It was still alive when it crashed into the wall, which caused a ton of damage to the structure. It had hit with the force of a bomb, dust erupted forth and obscured everything.

The turrets and bot were unaffected my the blinding dust and opened up on the creature pouring bullets into it at a frightening rate.

5 seconds to bring it down.

Everyone heard the beast cough, and the wyvern breathed its last.

Everything went quiet. Smoke and dust from it's crash still clotting the air.

I was already jumping off the roof to the ground, and running to get a look at the specimen.

A childish level of glee filled my thoughts.

I had a dead Draconid to examine.