The darkness was familiar, but not in a way that Luthar found comforting. His breath echoed in the suffocating hush.
He was standing in the center of a sprawling, warped cityscape, its towering spires broken and jagged, like shards of reality itself. The sky above was a roiling expanse of unnatural colors — bleeding reds, sickly yellows, and sickening greens. Shadows twisted unnaturally, flickering and stretching with an unsettling life of their own.
And then he felt it. A presence.
From the shifting, fractured cityscape emerged a figure — its form a blur, a nightmare of alien geometry. It moved gracefully, defying the laws of space and time. Its voice slithered through the air like a serpent, distant and mocking.
"Ah, you are still here," it said, its voice hollow yet resonant. "This reality, this plane, it is not your place."
Luthar's synthetic eye narrowed, a sign of his familiarity with manipulation.
A rift in the sky tore open, a jagged wound in the fabric of the universe. Through the tear, Luthar glimpsed the familiar horrors of barren, endless zones. The shrieks of dying men, the roar of engines, and the crackling energy of twisted, corrupted souls.
"You belong to the cold stars, the metal and fire," the entity continued, its voice growing colder, sharper. "You are nothing but a puppet. You can't resist fate."
Luthar's hand twitched, his fingers curling into a fist, the mechanical servos of his augmentations grinding softly.
The ground trembled as the Lord's voice filled the air, its mocking tone thick with the promise of endless manipulation.
"You cannot escape, broken thing," it purred. "I see all. We will find you and drag you back. We will let you understand — running away is your mistake."
A wave of cold dread surged through Luthar, but he resisted it — forced it down, analyzing every pulse, every breath.
Luthar's chest heaved. A split second of panic flared in his mind, only to be quashed by the cold. His vision blurred as the world around him collapsed, and then he jolted awake.
He gasped, sitting upright in his bed, sweat beading under his augmented skin. His heart seemed to race as the nightmare clung to him, like a weight pressing down on his chest. His mind quickly ran through the nightmare.
It was a nightmare, but could he be sent back? He had escaped once, but who could say for certain that he wouldn't find himself again in that world he wanted no part of?
Luthar's mechanical fingers curled into fists, the claws of his implants digging into the skin beneath his gloves.
With silent precision, he slipped into his dark crimson coat, the mechanical contours of his body purposefully aligning. There would be no more uncertainty. He would fortify his existence. He had no interest in being caught by another power, dragged through the void like his wishes didn't matter.
He moved to his lab, the glow of the machinery casting sharp shadows across the walls.
Hours passed as Luthar stood before his workbench, analyzing the data and scanning notes. The machinery of his mind hummed in time with the faint whirring of the mechanical devices around him.
Luthar's eyes gleamed as he scrolled through the schematics: a new dimensional traveling machine, based on a blueprint he already possessed. This would ensure he could always find a way to escape and provide him with a means to travel across the multiverse.
Next, he turned his gaze toward the larger plan. Taking out the blueprint for a Titan and the Power Armor of the Battle Sisters, Luthar looked over the list of resources. There was no way he could build a Titan with what he had. But then he pulled out another blueprint for a Dreadnought—completely useless for him. Or so it seemed. After a moment of contemplation, his thoughts began to turn. What if he could combine elements from both the Titan and the Dreadnought? It might be considered blasphemous, but they could act as a medical chamber and a war machine, a perfect extra armor.
Luthar paused, his mind momentarily pulling away from the schematics as he considered the next step. The machine was critical, but so were the materials.
He retrieved the note with the merchant's address from his coat pocket. It was time to visit him.
The streets were quiet as Luthar made his way to the merchant's shop, a small, unassuming building tucked away in a less busy part of town. Inside, the shop was cluttered with shelves of various goods. Behind the counter sat an older man, his gray hair and tired face betraying his age. He glanced up as Luthar entered.
"What can I do for you?" the merchant asked, his voice rough from years of use.
Luthar got straight to the point. "I need a large amount of rare alloys." He placed the list of the material and the amount.
The merchant's brow furrowed as he checked the list. "That much? I can get you some, but not in those quantities. Even if I want to buy from outside, there is a limit on the number."
Luthar raised an eyebrow. "You can't get it?"
The merchant shook his head. "Not in that quantity..."
Luthar paused for a moment, considering the merchant's words. "Where can I find what I need?"
The merchant sighed. "I can get you some, but you'll have to look elsewhere or try to look for the countries that have large mines."
Luthar nodded. "Just try to purchase as many materials as possible and send them to my location. I am ready to pay a premium."
Without another word, Luthar turned and left the shop, his mind already considering his next move. The merchant could not provide the Enough materials he required; he would need to find another way.