The soft hiss of the chamber doors drew Miach's attention as Luthar stepped into the upper corridor. The tech-priest gave a brief nod—more habit than greeting—and moved to the main terminal without a word.
Miach didn't speak, merely waited for Naaza's arrival.
Moments later, the door below slid open again.
Naaza emerged slowly, one arm wrapped around her front, the other moving with cautious grace. She had changed into fresh robes—a clean tunic drawn snug around her shoulders. Her gait was a little stiff, but that was expected.
It wasn't the stiffness that caught Miach's attention.
It was how her right hand moved.
Fluid. Balanced. Natural.
He rose quietly from his seat.
Naaza stood near one of the outer tables, flexing her fingers. Her eyes were half-lidded, lost in the sensation of motion. She tapped her fingertips against the wood. Lifted a small metal stylus. Turned it in her palm. Dropped it. Picked it up again—this time with more confidence.
Miach stepped closer, slowly enough not to startle her.
"That arm," he said softly, "looks nothing like what I expected."
Naaza blinked at him, then smiled faintly. "Yeah. I thought it'd at least look ugly."
Miach gently took her hand, examining it with practiced care. The synthetic skin was smooth, with minute texture—nearly indistinguishable from real dermis. The warmth wasn't perfect, but it was there.
"It's... warm," he murmured.
"Luthar said it's a synthetic thermal mesh."
"It's almost like your real arm," Miach said, releasing her hand slowly.
Naaza flexed it again. "It's not just looks. I can feel the sensations. Almost like my genuine arm."
Miach stepped back, his expression softening as he saw the light in her eyes.
"Thank you," he said quietly, turning toward Luthar.
The tech-priest remained focused on the terminal, fingers tapping away until he glanced over his shoulder with typical calm.
"No need to thank me. I only did what I needed to—for your information."
Miach gave a faint smile. "My knowledge isn't as important as you think."
Luthar offered only a shallow nod and turned back to the display.
"I've written down the detailed notes on the medicine compatibility and post-graft treatments," Miach added.
Luthar looked over. "You're not carrying them."
"I left them at the shop," Miach admitted. "Didn't expect you to finish this in a day."
Luthar wasn't annoyed—merely calculating. "I'll send Liliruca tomorrow morning to pick it up."
"Good. I'll be waiting for her."
Naaza flexed her new arm again, still testing its range. "You're not coming yourself?"
"No," Luthar replied. "I'll be busy for the next two days."
With that, the moment passed. Naaza and Miach exchanged farewells and made their way toward the gate, the quiet hum of the church swallowing their footsteps.
Liliruca stood a few paces from the terminal, arms folded, eyes lingering on the now-closed doors. She let the silence settle before finally speaking.
"… Were you planning to recruit her?" she asked, her voice calm but curious.
Luthar didn't answer immediately. He adjusted one final setting before leaning back, hands slipping into his coat pockets.
"I was," he admitted. "Talent like that is always useful. But..."
Liliruca raised an eyebrow. "But?"
"She's too attached to her god. Loyal in a way that makes recruitment pointless."
"She would've followed you if Miach had asked," Liliruca noted.
"Exactly," Luthar said. "Which is why it wouldn't last."
He tapped the terminal off with a quiet click.
"So, I dropped the plan. Better to find someone whose choice can only be me."
Liliruca held his gaze. "You already have me."
Luthar regarded her for a moment before giving a faint nod. "I do. But I need someone who can be sealed inside a dreadnought for the rest of their life—without complaint."
Liliruca blinked, visibly thrown off. "Wait... you mean permanently?"
"But that's ridiculous," she said, frowning. "You designed the capsule-type dreadnoughts so someone could enter and exit. Why force permanence?"
"To save time," Luthar replied without hesitation.
Liliruca looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "That's the dumbest thing I've heard today."
She stepped in front of him, arms tight across her chest. "Why does everything have to be about efficiency with you? You made something brilliant—safe and reusable. And now you want to turn it into a tomb?"
Luthar looked at her calmly. "Sometimes efficiency outweighs freedom. And some people would choose that if it meant lasting power."
"Well, I'm not going to be one of those people."
"I didn't ask you to be."
"I know," she snapped. "But I thought I'd be the one to pilot it."
"Good," she muttered. "But I'm not getting stuffed into anything that I can't get out of."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but he didn't argue.
Silence settled again.
Then, softer this time, Liliruca asked, "Are you still thinking of building another one?"
Luthar's eyes narrowed faintly. "No. Not right now."
She tilted her head. "Are you planning to do something else?"
He turned back toward the interface, inputting a new sequence.
"Restarting the dimensional machine," he said. "I need resources—to begin modifying the battleship into a mechanical ark."
Luthar nodded once. "A self-sustaining mobile forge and stronghold. Something that can explore the space and other planets. A vessel worthy of my ambition."
Liliruca's eyes narrowed, but she didn't object—though she was still worried, as the last accident was still fresh in her mind.
(Author's note: now let's pray I can write the six chapter so I will be able to upload 4 to 5 chapters on Sunday by the way you can still support me on /Silvervir?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator
it's a place where you can read up to 20 chapters advance and if you do it now, you read 21.