Time had passed since the summoning of new heroic spirits and the initiation of large-scale fusion projects, and now the world Dr. Dew and his companions had built teetered on the edge of its next monumental phase. With tensions climbing across the stars and Chaos beginning its slow encroachment, Dr. Dew turned the full focus of his empire inward—toward creation rather than defense. They would birth a new force, one designed not only to stand against galactic horrors, but to redefine the very meaning of life and war. This was the true beginning of Project Gaia.
Unlike previous defense initiatives, Project Gaia was not about machines, weapons, or shields. It was about synthesis. A new breed of life. Advanced Androids fused with conduit energy, Isu genetic design, and Monster Hunter-derived cellular enhancement. They would not simply obey. They would think. Feel. And they would possess something far rarer than even a soul—a purpose forged through belief. The concept was bold, even dangerous: each unit within Project Gaia would represent a core mythos—pantheons of ancient Earth reinterpreted into living forms. Greek, Norse, Egyptian, Shinto, and more. Each group would operate with autonomy, guided by a central AI overseer designed in the likeness of the primordial earth deity: Gaia.
But the magnitude of this undertaking required more than technological brilliance. It needed a leap into the arcane, a thread of fate and story stitched through blood and magic. And so, beneath the artificial stars of their capital's inner sanctum, Dr. Dew and his core team gathered once again.
The lab pulsed with the low hum of Isu crystals lining the summoning chamber. Circles glowed with faint golden light. The walls had been reinforced to handle psychic backlash. Everything was calibrated. The only uncertainty was who—or what—would answer the call.
Celeste Starfire Cassidy leaned against the far wall, chewing on a strip of nova-bacon, one eyebrow raised. "So this is how y'all summon gods and ghosts?" she asked, glancing at the elaborate setup. "Looks fancier than anything I've seen since the Glitch cathedral on Orion Delta."
"It's not ghosts," Paracelsus said, his hands glowing faintly as he prepared the circuit stabilizers. "It's condensed myth. Spirit and memory condensed into code, then written into reality by will."
"That's basically a ghost," Celeste muttered.
Dr. Dew stood at the center, surrounded by glowing sigils and levitating shards of conduit data, mana threads, and Isu glyphs. "Once this circle is active, it's going to pull from whatever idea or being resonates strongest with me. I don't get to choose."
"Then let's hope your subconscious has good taste," Da Vinci quipped, typing in final calibrations from a floating console.
Dew's mind wandered. He remembered legends. Earth stories. One name surfaced from the mire of memory like a blade breaking water—Arthur.
Not one second later, the circle exploded in a brilliant flash. Cassidy shielded her face. Tesla took two quick steps back. Paracelsus braced the frame. And from the roaring maelstrom of light stepped not one figure—but three.
The first was unmistakably regal—short golden hair, a blue-and-silver battle dress, and eyes like tempered steel. Artoria Pendragon, the once and future king.
The second stood in sharp contrast. A woman of dark hair and elegance, her aura calm and cold as midnight fog. Morgan le Fay.
And the third... a man with eyes like starlight and a grin born of riddles. Robed in white and violet, staff in hand—Merlin.
"Well," Merlin said, brushing off his sleeves. "It's been a while since I was yanked into something sideways. Where am I? This doesn't smell like any singularity I know."
"You're not in a singularity," Dew said, blinking rapidly. "You're... here. And you're not going back. Not for a while."
Before more questions could be asked, Dew staggered slightly. Power surged through his magic circuits, already strained from maintaining Da Vinci, Tesla, and Paracelsus. Merlin's summoning tipped the scale. Then Morgan. Then Artoria. His body trembled under the burden.
Paracelsus didn't hesitate. "We'll lose him. His circuits are burning out!"
Within seconds, six homunculi were prepped and brought in—organic bodies constructed from the same template that built the Homunculus Soldiers of yore. Paracelsus reached into Dew's chest with alchemical precision, surgically merging each homunculus into his nervous system, threading new circuits like vascular bridges. The pain was intense, but Dew gritted through it.
And then the strain vanished.
The new magic circuits stabilized the influx. Dr. Dew stood again. Sweating, pale—but whole.
"I'm fine," he said. "More importantly... they're here."
Tesla stepped forward, examining Merlin, Morgan, and Artoria. "You three should know—you're weaker now. Slightly."
Morgan frowned. "I can feel it. The magical field here is foreign."
"Disconnected from the Throne of Heroes," Merlin said. "We're isolated from our source mythologies. Still—we're functional."
"I don't need a throne to swing a blade," Artoria said firmly. "Only a purpose."
"Then we'll give you one," Dew said. "Dinner first. Briefing after."
Dinner wasn't ceremonial. It was utilitarian—though still warm and inviting in its own right. A long obsidian table stretched beneath an artificial moonlight dome in the observatory wing, giving the illusion of a calm, starlit night. Plates of food grown from both Earth flora and Starbound-cultured systems lined the center—steamed protein noodles, synthetic meats, Nova Root vegetables, and fruit preserves rendered from genetically stabilized orchard cells. The table held seats for every operative, synth, and summoned ally currently alive within the city. This wasn't a feast. This was a war council disguised as a meal.
Artoria sat between Morgan and Da Vinci, her eyes slowly scanning the room, noting how diverse and yet unified the people here were. Constructs and humans. Aliens and androids. Soldiers and thinkers. Not a hint of paranoia, only anticipation. Morgan, for her part, ate little, focusing instead on the devices embedded into the chamber's structure. Isu technology. Subtle. Elegant. Her mind ticked through ancient patterns, trying to decode its function.
"This city is not aligned with any tradition I know," Morgan said after several minutes. "Not magecraft. Not true alchemy. And yet, it works. Efficiently."
"That's what you get when you stitch a hundred broken worlds together," Dr. Dew said calmly from across the table. "We've fused more disciplines than we can name. Now we need magic. That's where you come in."
Merlin smiled with his usual unreadable charm. "Ah, you summoned me for technical support. I'll need a coffee budget and a chaos-free office with a view."
"I can do the coffee," Cassidy said, passing him a dark mug from the station replicator. "Chaos-free's outta the question."
With introductions done and plates half-finished, Dew activated the holoprojector at the table's center. A new symbol shimmered above it—Project Gaia.
"This is the reason we pulled you here," he said, glancing across the table at every face. "The Imperium of Man is expanding. So is Chaos. Both will eventually find us again—and we're too unique for either of them to ignore. We need more than weapons. We need a civilization. We need people who are powerful, but stable. Souls born for this world, not imported from another."
The image shifted. Blueprints now.
"Project Gaia will create advanced Androids infused with conduit energy, magic circuits, synthesized Monster Hunter DNA, and full artificial souls created using the Isu human device. Each will be themed after a mythology—Greek, Norse, Japanese, Mesopotamian. Not as divine rulers, but as cultural anchors. Living symbols."
"You're building a new Olympus," Artoria said slowly. "With living gods."
"No," Dew corrected gently. "I'm building new humans. The godlike image is symbolic, not literal. They won't be actual gods, and they'll only use their powers in planetary-level threats. Until then, they live, grow, make choices. Like everyone else."
Morgan narrowed her eyes. "You're fusing homunculus structure with soul-fabrication and AI cores. How do you prevent instability?"
"That's where the Isu device comes in," Da Vinci explained, taking over with a press of her finger on the display. "Their method of creating humanity involved soul weaving at the moment of conception. With our upgraded process, each Android will have a stable identity, reinforced by myth and synthetic neuro-patterns."
Paracelsus added, "And by including homunculus tissue in the creation cycle, we ensure compatibility with magic circuits. Each subject will have the potential to perform magecraft. The circuits will grow organically."
Merlin took a long sip of coffee and exhaled. "You know, I expected something boring when I was summoned. This is impressive. You're walking the line between divinity and engineering."
"It won't be easy," Tesla said. "To keep the mythologies alive, they'll require cultural development as well. Stories, rituals, memory. The Androids won't just inherit symbols—they'll need societies built around their themes."
Cassidy leaned forward. "And they'll all know they're artificial?"
"They won't be lied to," Dew said. "They'll be born knowing what they are. And they'll have the right to reject it. No programming. No chains."
Artoria folded her hands. "Then they are not tools. They are soldiers who choose."
"Exactly."
The table fell into thought. Da Vinci eventually broke the silence.
"We'll need help crafting the myths," she said, voice musing aloud. "Even if symbolic, each belief system needs anchors. Festivals, prayers, even customs. And someone to teach them."
"I'll handle the Norse," Merlin said, eyes twinkling. "I've always admired their flair for the dramatic."
"I'll assist with Greek," Morgan said. "But it must be moderated. The original pantheon was far too… chaotic."
"Japanese and Shinto are delicate," Paracelsus added. "I'll oversee that alongside the homunculus threading."
"And the Titans?" Cassidy asked, bringing up the final diagram—mechanized colossi, like gods of iron. "Who handles them?"
"I do," Dew said. "They're built from Metal Gear frames, powered by Isu reactors, armored with Fallout alloy, and refined with Titanfall interface logic. Each will carry integrated AI soul cores. Knights not of chivalry, but planetary defense."
Merlin looked impressed. "You're building heaven and earth all at once."
"Just trying to buy time," Dew said. "Time to build something that'll last."
---
That night, as the new mythos labs activated and prototype Androids entered their growth tanks, Dr. Dew stood alone beneath the vault of the city's artificial sky. Above him, the constellations pulsed—simulated stars, but filled with meaning. The first of the Gaia series was nearly complete. Androids with souls, born from science and myth. Machines who could feel. Fight. Love. Protect.
Behind him, Artoria stepped silently to his side.
"You know this won't go unnoticed," she said. "One day, something will come to break what you've built."
"I know," Dew said. "That's why I'm not building a wall. I'm building people."
He looked to the sky.
"And they'll be ready."
End of Chapter Thirty-Eight