The moment the ship exited hyperspace, the crew of four was met with silence.
They hovered in orbit over a dead planet—a cold, colorless sphere suspended in the black void of space. There was no tectonic movement, no magnetosphere, no signs of oceanic life. A world waiting to be molded into something more. Dr. Dew stood at the command terminal, eyes reflecting the harsh light of sensor displays. There was no name for this world due to the urgency of the current situation.So he decided to gave it one and after everything is settled then they can decide on a different if they wanted to.
"Eden," Dr. Dew said aloud.
Celeste Starfire Cassidy raised an eyebrow from the navigation seat. "Eden, huh?"
"Figured it fits. The plan is to tern this world into a perfect place to live, basically paradise."
Behind them, Artoria Pendragon stood with her arms folded, golden hair catching the light of a nearby star. She said nothing. Just watched. A knight out of time guarding a world not yet created.
Morgan le Fay leaned against the wall, tapping a strand of violet hair idly against her cheek. "If it's anything like your last garden, let's hope the snake doesn't show up early."
Dew ignored her.
The Ark Engine initiated orbital rotation as automated planetary scans confirmed the basics. Gravity—Earth-like. Axial tilt—stable. Atmospheric content—nonexistent. Core temperature—cold. No magnetosphere. No tectonic activity. A dead rock in every way possible.
But soon this dead world was going to be there new home.
Dew tapped the control surface, activating launch bays. "Cassidy, prep the Bore Cores."
Cassidy smirked, flipping switches with practiced ease. "Ready and running. Coordinates locked."
Six armored drilling units deployed from the ship's underside. The bots—modified from pre-war Fallout drilling platforms, enhanced with Metal Gear exosupport limbs and Punishing Gray Raven's adaptive toolsets—fired downward like spears of iron. They hit the surface hard, sending tremors across the barren crust. Their limbs deployed instantly, boring deep into the mantle in search of a core that hadn't burned in millions of years.
Dew walked to the secondary interface, watching heat readings rise in real-time. As the Bore Cores tunneled, they released accelerant packets—combinations of nanite-infused magma catalysts and geo-reactive compounds, designed to trigger convection where none existed. If Earth's magnetic field was born from a spinning, molten iron core, then Eden's would be too.
Three day's passed.
Then, it pulsed.
A seismic ripple cracked across Eden's surface. Deep beneath the crust, the core began to churn. Liquid iron ignited like a forgotten heart. Electromagnetic fields spiked, then stabilized. The planet had a pulse. And with it, a future.
Cassidy let out a low whistle. "Core's alive. Magnetic field's forming."
"Step one down," Dew said. "Now we shape the surface."
With the magnetic field active, they launched the second phase. Massive fabrication drones descended from orbit—each the size of a two-story building. Their construction code came from a Frankenstein library of sources: Fallout schematics, Broken Age logic cores, Metal Gear walker AI, and retrofitted Sierra Madre vending machine molecular synthesizers.
The drones broke into teams. Some crushed stone, some deposited soil. Others lifted terrain or compressed mountains. They began sculpting continents where there had been only flat, featureless rock. Artificial tectonics were simulated with underground explosive charges, carefully calculated to mimic plate movements. Valleys opened. Mountain ranges rose. Riverbeds carved themselves across newly pressed sediment.
The planet's face began to change.
Cassidy guided orbital sensors. "Landmass stability is optimal. Water table placement looks good. Everything's going smoothly."
Dr. Dew coordinated the topographical matrix himself, his mind operating across six neural threads at once. Every mountain range, coastline, and island chain had a place. He modeled the planet to be exactly like Earth to create a place familiar to himself and the heroic spirits that he summoned.
Behind them, Morgan watched the holographic planet rotate with faint curiosity. "Your capable of doing all of this with technology alone?"
Cassidy snorted. "Sugar, he could do this all by himself if he wanted to, although it might take him longer to complete such a large task."
Morgan blinked. "That is unexpected."
"It was," Artoria said dryly. "Just not the one you wanted."
The land took form in silence.
After confirming structural integrity, Dew gave the drones their next directive: water. The same orbital machines began pumping synthesized seawater across the basins. It poured across artificial coasts, filled fabricated trenches, lapped against gravel and sand created days ago. The oceans formed slowly, but by nightfall—if there had been a night—waves were crashing against engineered shorelines.
Cassidy leaned back, whistling again. "Looks like Earth. If Earth had all form's of life and signs of civilizations wiped clean off of Earth."
Dew smiled. "Good. That means where almost done."
But it wasn't alive. Not yet.
With terrain and water finished, Dew moved to the atmospheric systems. Eden had no air, no ozone. They needed both. Atmospheric processors dropped from orbit, scattering across every major region. Each one launched skyward towers—mechanical "lungs" to exhale oxygen, nitrogen, and trace gases. Nano-reactors in their bases converted ambient particles and soil chemistry into breathable air.
The ozone would take longer.
Even with accelerated algorithms, the layer protecting the planet from solar radiation couldn't form instantly. "Thirty standard days," Cassidy confirmed after cross-checking. "Thirty here. About a month. Gonna be a wait."
Dr. Dew nodded slowly. "We'll use the time."
The next two weeks unfolded in long, tireless cycles. Dew didn't sleep or eat. His synth-modified body operated at peak efficiency, moving between consoles, supervising land stabilization, testing atmosphere composition, managing drone upkeep, recalibrating ocean salinity and temperature curves.
Cassidy kept pace—not as fast, but never far behind. She piloted dropships to relay fresh equipment, helped direct orbital scans, adjusted magnetic field modulation when polarity spikes threatened instability. Together, they laid the foundation for civilization.
Artoria and Morgan, meanwhile, found themselves redundant. There were no threats, no monsters, no shadows creeping from beyond the stars. Only the slow rise of a world, layer by layer.
Artoria would walk around the ship sometimes, silent, sword sheathed.
Morgan would lie on the ship's deck under artificial stars, conjuring flickers of light to amuse herself.
Neither interfered. That had been the agreement.
And then, on the twenty-fourth day, the ozone sealed.
Sky turned blue.
Clouds began to form naturally. Dew adjusted rainfall generators to match the new humidity. Cassidy released the first wave of engineered flora—Earth-derived plants modified for survival in unknown ecosystems. Grasses swept across plains. Trees took root in pre-designed groves. Vines wrapped rocks. Shrubs colonized the banks of every river.
Two days later, birds filled the air.
Paracelsus had designed them, but Dew had refined them—genetic hybrids of natural species and lab-grown durability. They sang through the skies with bright colors and resilient feathers.
Morgan whispered to herself, "It's starting to feel like home."
Then came the animals.
Nothing large—just small mammals, amphibians, and genetically balanced pollinators. Designed to populate carefully monitored zones. All programmed for adaptive evolution.
Within days, the planet looked not just ready to be colonized—but looked exactly like the real Earth.
The final phase was to create shelters for the citizens of Pangea.
Drones created modular structures: compact homes, medical stations, agriculture domes, educational cores, and data towers. Powered by self-sustaining reactors and Isu technology, each module could support a community for years if needed.
Standing at the central hub of the capital site, Dew watched the sun rise over Eden. His eyes scanned a world he had shaped from dust and code. He took a slow breath. It was ready.
He opened a direct comm line back to Pangea.
"This is Dew," he said. "Eden is complete. Phase two begins now. Prepare to migrate."
From across the stars, Da Vinci's voice echoed faintly through static. "Acknowledged. They'll be ready."
Behind him, Cassidy adjusted her belt and cracked her knuckles. "Guess we built a damn world."
Morgan tilted her head. "Not bad for what use to be a dead rock."
Artoria simply smiled.
Dr. Dew looked once more at the blue sky overhead.
Not bad.
But there was still so much left to do.
End of Chapter Forty-Seven