CURRENT DATE CORRELATION: 1200 AD
LOCATION: SUBTERRANEAN CARPATHIAN SECTOR / DEEPFOUNDRY TWO
OPTIMIZATION STABILITY: 100%
The surface world was tearing itself apart in the name of divine righteousness. The Crusades were raging across the Levant, iron-clad kings were bleeding out in the desert sand, and feudal empires were rewriting their borders with blood and parchment.
But six miles beneath the European crust, the passage of nearly seven centuries had settled into a rhythm of absolute, clinical efficiency.
Inside the primary laboratory of Deepfoundry Two, the massive holographic globe spun in a slow, silent loop, its cyan lines glowing with perfect clarity. Standing before the master console, David remained unchanged. The midnight-violet alloy of his Vibranium-T-O armor matrix was flawless, completely absorbing the ambient light of the cleanroom.
Beside him, lounging with a completely unbothered, aristocratic grace on a sleek metallic console slab, was Selene.
She wore a gown of heavy, medieval silk the color of spun midnight, her long dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her porcelain skin practically radiated health, completely devoid of the faint, sickly purple veins that had threatened to consume her bone marrow centuries ago. She was lazily tracing her finger through the air, sending a tiny, perfectly contained ribbon of pitch-black telekinetic energy dancing between her knuckles.
"The diagnostic for Sector Four has completed," David stated, his level, digitized voice cutting through the hum of the servers. He didn't turn to look at her; his eyes were focused entirely on the streaming text of his spreadsheet. "The thermodynamic firewall around the Chthonic volume has reached absolute equilibrium. The data extraction is concluded."
"Seven hundred years to patch a single book," Selene purred, her crimson lips curving into an amused, deeply familiar smile. "You are terribly thorough, my silent god. Most men would have gone mad from the boredom. Or at least composed a poem to pass the centuries."
"Boredom is a neurological malfunction caused by an unoptimized cognitive baseline," David replied flatly, his fingers clicking against the interface with mechanical speed. "The Darkhold's core programming required systematic quarantine. The data logs indicate your psychic output has stabilized at an increased efficiency of thirty-four percent since the integration of the Optimization Catalyst. The genetic degradation has been entirely arrested."
Selene chuckled softly, a rich, melodic sound that echoed off the polished obsidian walls. Over the past seven centuries, she had spent more time with David than any other living entity in her two-thousand-year life. In the beginning, she had tried to seduce him, to frighten him, and to manipulate him, the standard tools of a queen. Every single attempt had crashed and burned against his absolute, towering wall of clinical indifference.
Eventually, the frustration had given way to a profound, quiet amusement. He wasn't being cruel; he was simply a machine trapped in the shape of a man. He treated the absolute pinnacle of dark magic like a messy piece of archaic engineering that needed proper tech support. She had learned to read the subtle shifts in his azure optics, finding a strange, comforting peace in his utter predictability. In a world of fleeting, chaotic mortals, David was the only constant that never lied.
"You are welcome," she murmured playfully, swinging her legs off the metal slab and stepping down onto the floor. She walked up to the edge of the terminal, the heavy skin-bound Darkhold floating silently in the air beside her shoulder, completely pacified by the silver nanite threads woven into its spine. "My magic is entirely at your disposal, Administrator. Where are we routing the network next?"
David tapped a keystroke, and the global holographic map shifted, expanding out to show the wider contours of the Fused Earth.
"The continental sub-relays are fully stabilized," David calculated out loud, his eyes scanning the glowing grid. "To achieve planetary coverage capable of resisting high-tier cosmic vectors, we must expand the network infrastructure into the oceanic sectors. The marine fault lines are critical geometric anchors."
Selene leaned against the console, her eyes scanning the glowing map. "Then you will have to contend with the hidden kingdoms. My spies on the surface have whispered of a hidden island in the North Atlantic, Attilan, the city of the genetic outcasts who call themselves Inhumans. And beneath the waves, the deep-sea tribes of Atlantis have begun rebuilding their ancient iron domes."
David didn't even pause his typing. His optics flickered twice as his internal Atlas executed a rapid risk-reward simulation on both factions.
"The Inhuman colony of Attilan is an irrelevant variable," David stated coldly, dismissing the entire race with a single sentence. "Their biology is a static, artificial dead-end engineered by Kree scientists twenty-five thousand years ago. Their evolutionary expression relies entirely on a finite, external resource, the Terrigen Mists. They do not possess a natural genetic trajectory. Introducing the Optimization Catalyst to their Kree-contaminated genetic baseline carries a forty-two percent probability of systemic cellular collapse. They are a failing startup with zero long-term macro utility. We will completely bypass them."
Selene raised an eyebrow, quietly fascinated by how ruthlessly his mind categorized whole civilizations. "And the deep-sea dwellers? The Atlanteans?"
David swept his hand across the terminal, dropping the holographic projection deep beneath the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, highlighting a massive, yawning tectonic trench that glowed with a violent red heat.
"Atlantis sits directly atop the primary geothermal vents of the mid-oceanic ridge," David explained, his voice carrying the absolute certainty of a corporate executive eyeing a prime piece of real estate. "They control advanced, pre-cataclysmic technological relics and a massive, highly disciplined military asset. Their biology is stable, but structurally limited by deep-sea pressure variables. If we offer their crown the Optimization Catalyst, we can streamline their respiratory and cellular density, granting them total dominance over the surface coastlines in exchange for administrative control over their geothermal arrays."
He turned his massive, violet-clad frame toward her, the azure glow of his eyes locking onto hers with absolute focus.
"The oceans are the next phase of the planetary grid," David concluded, his arm smoothly shifting as the symbiote coiled beneath his armor plates, preparing for deployment. "The Inhumans can rot in their isolation. We are going to the deep."
Selene's smile sharpened into a dangerous, predatory curve as she reached out and plucked the stabilized Darkhold from the air.
"Then let us go sink an empire, David," she whispered, her eyes flashing with a dark, matchless thrill. "I will prepare the containment wards."