Five days. That's all it took.
Not because it was easy—far from it. Luthar didn't stop. He barely slept and barely spoke. The lower levels of the Crimson Church echoed constantly with the hum of machinery, the hiss of plasma welders, and the rhythmic clatter of servo arms. He had torn the place apart once already; now it was ti to rebuild it with purpose.
Most of the heavy lifting was done by servo-skulls and servitors. Luthar only had to direct them, coordinate efforts, and implent new designs. A few essential materials—particularly the specialized components for the stasis vaults—had to be purchased directly from the system. Expensive? Undeniably. Reckless? Perhaps. But with no other path forward, it was necessary.
Still, the investnt paid off. With the lab restored, Luthar could now fabricate advanced items, regain system points, and unlock new blueprints. His long-term ambition was clear: acquire the design for a chanical ark. Not to build one from scratch—that was impossible in this world—but to transform his battleship into a vessel worthy of a Tech-Priest.
This reconstruction was more than a repair—it was the birth of sothing greater. Three stasis vaults now stood locked in place, each with an independent security system. Reinforced walls concealed ergency caches. A long-overdue filtration network cycled air through dense micro-fiber purifiers.
By the end of day five, it was done.
The next two days were devoted to Freya's divine blood. The vial had been secured earlier, protected with redundant containnt asures. It now lays beneath an array of scanners—chemical, etheric, and dinsional. Even the system's raw data scanner was deployed, though it only returned fragnted readings.
The results were inconclusive but revealing. There was sothing beneath it—an ethereal code embedded in blood. It ignited questions Luthar wasn't ready to answer.
On the seventh evening, Luthar erged from the lower lab and called everyone together for a eting.
Upstairs, everything had changed. Freya had quietly refurbished one of the gathering rooms during the week. Gone were the rusted chairs and bleak iron decor. Now, a polished oak table stood at the center, surrounded by high-backed seats. Warm lanterns glowed in each corner, and a thick carpet softened the floor.
They were all there—Freya, Liliruca, Tsubaki, and Hephaestus, who had returned after helping Hestia search for a new ho. Freya had briefed her, but secondhand accounts could never match hearing the truth directly.
As Luthar entered, still wearing carbon-streaked gloves and a soot-smudged tunic, the others turned to him. He sat without a preamble.
Hephaestus broke the silence. "So, are you ready to talk now?"
Luthar gave a quiet nod. "Yes."
He looked around at each of them before beginning.
"I'm not from Gekai. I assu that much is obvious. I arrived in this world through a device similar to the platform you've already seen."
Tsubaki furrowed her brow. "A machine that lets you jump between worlds? Like a divine gate?"
"Similar in outco. Not in nature," Luthar replied. "It was a prototype—small, unstable, ant for a single jump. I used it. It worked. Barely."
Freya rested her chin on one hand, her eyes narrowed.
"My first objectives were survival and stability. I needed a base of operations and a way to return—or move forward."
He paused. "My mories were always fragnted when I was in the previous world. But after the breach, I understand The Warp found a crack in what I have abandoned."
Freya's voice ca soft but deliberate. "You speak of the Warp as if it's a willful thing. Is it sentient?"
"In a way," Luthar answered, his tone somber. "It feeds on chaos. It doesn't forget." Tsubaki leaned forward, intrigued. "And the world you ca from—what was it like?" He didn't respond at once. He let the silence gather weight.
"Ruined. There was once light—unity, faith, a grand purpose. But that was buried beneath the endless war. Mankind ruled the stars, but every planet beca a battlefield. The Empire endured, but only as a machine of survival."
Hephaestus narrowed her eyes. "So it was just war… and you ran from it."
Luthar t her gaze, unflinching. "I didn't flee from battle. I fled from futility. Endless bloodshed without aning."
Freya's voice broke the stillness again. "So what now?"
Luthar stared down at the stasis key in his hand. Cold. Heavy.
"I build," he said. "I build and study, just as I've always done."
Freya raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that dull? No thrill in fighting monsters, no stories of your own?"
Luthar didn't flinch. "Is there any benefit in fighting monsters that just respawn? I gain nothing from killing them—they offer no growth, no challenge to . As for creating stories…" He gestured toward Liliruca.
"Wouldn't it be more aningful to let others forge their own paths using the tools I create?"
Freya frowned. "That's her path, not yours. And you don't even sell your best work. In the future, people may admire you, but they'll never see your full potential."
Before the tension could grow, Hephaestus raised a hand. "Enough, Freya."
Freya blinked, surprised by the interruption.
Hephaestus's voice remained calm. "So weapons aren't for sale."
Freya leaned back with a sigh. "You're too careful."
"And you're too hopeful," Hephaestus replied, almost gently.
A mont passed in quiet.
Then Liliruca spoke. "So… what now?"
Luthar looked at the others. "Now, we decide. Do we work together, knowing this may last a lifeti—or part ways here?"
He left the consequences unsaid.
Hephaestus was the first to speak. "I'm staying. There's too much I can learn from you—and too much worth helping you build."
Tsubaki grinned. "Sa here. I'd kill to learn so of your tricks."
Liliruca gave a half-shrug, half-smile. "As long as you don't stop from hunting down Soma Familia, I'm not going anywhere."
Freya t Luthar's eyes. "I will join you—on two conditions. First, when you go to other worlds, take with you. Second, I want to know I'm not burning all my bridges behind ."
"You'll have the ans to return," Luthar promised. "That, I'll ensure."
Freya gave a small nod. "Then I stand with you."
Luthar lifted the key.
"Then it is decided. First I would build, and when I'm ready, we can go to other worlds to play around."
At this point, none of them understood that so-called playing around was just taking away resources from other worlds or fighting wars just to prove a point.
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