The chain-cleaver in Andy's hand roared. Without a moment's hesitation, the serrated teeth bit directly into the pulsing red power conduit.
Squish!
Thick green sap erupted, splashing across Andy's chest plate and hissing as it corroded the metal. The golden "Eden Progenitor Seed" instantly stopped pulsing, its radiance dimming slightly. Andy reached in, snatched the basketball-sized seed, and stuffed it into a makeshift bag sewn from discarded canvas.
The surrounding jungle of vines went ballistic. With the core removed, the defense mechanisms that had been in a semi-dormant state were fully triggered. Countless thick vines lashed out from the darkness, and the massive man-eating flowers emitted ear-piercing shrieks.
But it was too late.
Andy didn't even look back. He turned toward the metal control pillar with its outer shell already sliced open. His STC vision locked onto the internal structure in a tenth of a second. Andy extended his mechanical arm, driving his five fingers directly into the gaps of the metal casing.
Snap! Crack! Rip!
With the sharp sound of tearing metal, Andy forcefully ripped a black rectangular module out of the control pillar. This was, without a doubt, the "Black Box."
In the distant Golden Age, the design philosophy of the STC system was absolute simplification. To ensure that colonists with zero scientific background could survive in alien wildernesses, designers encapsulated all complex logic, genetic maps, and safety protocols into these sealed boxes. Users didn't need to know the equations for photosynthesis or understand the principles of gene splicing; they only needed to input their requirements, and the black box would take over everything.
Yet, it was this very design—focused on excessive convenience—that led to the total collapse of human technology. Because no one knew exactly how the box functioned, when those who knew how to operate them died and the boxes broke, the technology was lost forever. This particular black box contained the core control programs and genetic database for the hydroponic farm. Without it, taking the seed alone would have been useless.
Items secured. Time to go!
Andy tucked the black box under his arm and activated the overload mode for his leg hydraulics. He transformed into a grey blur, weaving through the madly lashing green hell. Any vines attempting to obstruct him were sliced through by his casually swung chain-cleaver.
Five minutes later, Andy burst out of the shaft and leaped onto the half-track truck. He floored the accelerator, and the truck roared across the wasteland, leaving the plant-infested mine far behind.
Two hours later.
The heavy gate of the refuge, which had been blown off earlier, had been propped back up with scrap metal plates by the refugees during Andy's absence. Andy parked the truck at the entrance and jumped down. The blood of the Skinner corpses hadn't been fully cleaned yet, and the smell of iron remained heavy in the air.
Gamma-9 was clutching an autogun, standing next to the bodies and excitedly lecturing a few newly promoted guards. Seeing Andy return, Gamma-9 trotted forward to meet him.
"Archmagos! Your miracle has manifested again!" Gamma-9 raised the gun, pointing at a corpse on the ground whose head had been obliterated, spreading gore across the floor.
"Just now, a few more fools tried to cause trouble," Gamma-9's voice trembled with excitement. "I simply followed your teachings, raised this holy weapon, and pulled the trigger. I didn't even aim! I felt the Machine Spirit take over my arm, and the bullets sought out the enemies' sinful skulls on their own!"
Andy glanced at the corpse, then at the dense cluster of bullet holes on the surrounding walls. Roughly thirty shots fired, one lucky hit.
"Well done," Andy offered a casual remark, choosing not to expose him. Sometimes, giving subordinates a sense of illusory confidence was more effective than teaching them ballistics.
"Find me a large container," Andy ordered as he walked inside. "Metal, capable of holding two hundred liters of water. And find me some cables to connect to the generator."
Though Gamma-9 had no idea what Andy was up to, his compliance was now at an all-time high.
Ten minutes later, a rusted iron drum originally used for industrial waste oil was moved to the center of the hall. Andy had them scrub the inside clean and fill it with pre-filtered groundwater. The surrounding refugees gathered in a circle, watching the strange metal man with curiosity. They didn't know what this metal monster—who had just killed without blinking—was planning now.
Andy pulled the black rectangular module from his pouch—the black box stolen from the farm. He cleaned the interfaces on the module and plugged in several cables pulled from the generator. The indicator lights on the surface of the box flickered to life, turning a standby yellow.
Next, Andy produced the golden "Eden Progenitor Seed." The crowd gasped. Although the seed had been removed from its parent body, it still emitted an alluring luster. In this world of ash and rust, such pure gold was nothing short of a miracle.
"What is this?" Gamma-9 couldn't help but ask. "Some kind of powerful bomb?"
"Wrong answer. It's food," Andy replied succinctly. He tossed the seed directly into the water-filled iron drum.
Plop.
The seed sank to the bottom. Andy's fingers moved rapidly across the black box's simple input panel. The STC database began overwriting the original genetic code. The seed's original setting was for "rapid ecosystem construction"—the aggressive, overgrowth mode. What Andy needed to do now was to neuter all its aggressive traits and reproductive capabilities, leaving only one function: starch accumulation. Or, in common terms, "growing meat."
[Input Command: Aggressive Traits - Remove.]
[Input Command: Fiber Hardness - Reduce.]
[Input Command: Growth Cycle - Instant.]
[Input Command: Nutrient Conversion Rate - Maximize.]
As Andy pressed the confirmation key, the water in the iron drum suddenly began to boil. The previously clear water turned turbid as the black box released highly concentrated nutrient catalysts stored within. Following that, the water turned an eerie fluorescent green. Gurgling sounds came from the bottom of the drum, as if a pot of water was being boiled.
Gamma-9 took two steps back in fright. "Archmagos, is... is this some form of alchemy?"
"It's agriculture," Andy said without looking back, focused on the changes in the drum. "Scientific breeding."
Five minutes passed. The originally calm surface of the water suddenly bulged. The bulge grew larger and larger until it broke the surface. It wasn't a terrifying tentacle or a man-eating flower. It was a white, rounded, smooth object that looked like a giant steamed bun. It continued to expand at a visible rate, squeezing into every bit of space in the iron drum.
Ten minutes later.
Ding.
The black box emitted a crisp notification sound, and the green light turned on. The growth program was complete. The iron drum was packed full. A massive white sphere weighing at least a hundred kilograms was wedged in the opening, steaming with heat. A strange aroma wafted out—not the rancid, greasy smell of corpse starch, but a pure plant fragrance with a hint of earthiness and sweetness.
Dead silence filled the hall. The Adam's apples of hundreds of refugees moved in unison as they swallowed hard. In an underhive where people grew up eating the flesh of the dead, this scent was a total shock to their olfactory systems.
Gamma-9's single eye stared fixedly at the massive white sphere. "This... this is..."
"A high-yield starch aggregate," Andy walked forward and drew a tactical dagger from his waist. He made a cut into the white sphere. No green sap leaked out; the cross-section was pure white, with a texture somewhere between a firm pear and a raw sweet potato.
Andy sliced off a small piece and put it in his mouth. Although he lacked taste sensors, his composition analyzer provided immediate results.
[Composition Analysis: Starch 85%, Water 12%, Cellulose 2%, Trace Elements 1%.]
[Toxicity Test: None.]
[Evaluation: Raw taste; cooking recommended.]
Andy chewed twice and swallowed. His simulated ingestion system converted the starch into bio-electric energy. "It's edible," Andy gave his final verdict. He handed another slice to the dumbfounded Gamma-9. "Here, try it."
Gamma-9's hand trembled as he took the white piece. He could hardly believe it was real. He took a cautious bite. The crisp texture and the faint sweetness that melted in his mouth... Gamma-9 had never tasted anything like this in his life. The best thing he had ever eaten was expired nutrient paste filtered down from the upper spires, which tasted like toothpaste. But this... this was living, fresh.
Two streams of murky tears ran down Gamma-9's old face, dripping past his cybernetics onto the floor. "Uuuhhh..."
The priest, who hadn't blinked while killing people earlier, was now crying like a child. "Praise the Omnissiah! This is nectar from the heavens! This is a sacred meal that only the High Lords of the Senatorum Imperialis on Terra could enjoy!"
The surrounding refugees could no longer restrain themselves. Without waiting for Andy's command, the primal biological hunger drove them to crowd forward.
Andy stabbed his dagger into the massive starch ball. "Gamma-9, stop crying for a moment." Andy patted the priest on the shoulder, the metal-on-metal impact ringing out.
"Cut this up and boil it into porridge. One bowl for everyone. Once you're full, get to work."