Beneath the desert, deep in the ruins of the original "Little Dipper Project" Seventh Outpost, renovation work roared day and night.
With Maine's crew hauling in massive construction materials at nearly any cost, Cairo's mechanical creations—those silent combat servitors and preliminarily intelligence-upgraded imitation servo-skulls—worked with astonishing efficiency.
Massive industrial cutters spat scorching ion streams, melting through corroded partition walls. Heavy hauling units cleared collapsed concrete blocks, opening main corridors. New composite armor plates were riveted at critical structural points, replacing originally fragile interior walls.
An underground base meeting Tech-Priest standards—integrating security, power, and research functions—was taking shape.
Central reactor chamber, main laboratory, hangar, defensive array control center... zone divisions clear and efficient.
At this busy scene's core—a temporarily designated shielded experimental zone—was different.
Unusually quiet here, only energy conduits' low hum and equipment heat exchangers' faint airflow sounds.
Cairo's tall, dark-red figure stood at the zone's center. On the workbench before him, the dimensional transport device—that dark-gold Dark Age creation—slowly hovered within complex force field restraints, surface patterns flickering like breathing.
New, more stable energy supply let his research into this ancient relic deepen.
However, as research progressed, Cairo increasingly realized the enormous risks and instability of direct biological cross-dimensional transport.
Random transmission was tantamount to suicide, while precise coordinate positioning control far exceeded current conditions.
"Directly transmitting energy or information pulses, under dimensional barrier interference, signal attenuation and distortion rates might exceed ninety-five percent—nearly impossible to convey effective information." Cairo analyzed to the hovering servo-skull "old friend" beside him, crimson optical lenses scanning the transport device. "We need a more reliable messenger—a physical carrier capable of bearing information and autonomously executing missions in target environments."
His gaze turned to the workbench's corner.
There sat a just-completed custom servo-skull.
Unlike crude imitations elsewhere in the workshop, this skull used high-purity alloys carefully selected from Maine's supplied materials plus a freshly cultured brain, structure more precise, internally integrated with a small but efficient energy core Cairo hand-crafted and enhanced data storage/transmission modules.
High-quality optical sensors embedded in its eye sockets currently flickered with standby glow.
"Logic core loaded with most basic survival and mission protocols. Upon arrival in the Warhammer world, priority hide itself, then attempt sending my preset encrypted message." Cairo conducted final checks while muttering to the servo-skull beside him. "According to my calculations, its arrival coordinates should be that ancient ruin I previously entered.
If all goes smoothly and the message is received by servitors and Skitarii left behind, I can proceed with subsequent plans."
The message he mentioned wasn't a simple status report but an encrypted data packet containing specific high-level Mechanicum identification codes, his personal security verification symbols, plus an extremely brief command sequence.
This command sequence was an activation key for certain hidden contingencies he'd left in the Warhammer universe.
Once receiving correct keys, his servitors and Skitarii left at the ancient ruin would execute commands packaged in this encrypted message according to preset programs, facilitating his subsequent plans.
"This will be one-way communication. A blind shot." Cairo's mechanical tentacles carefully positioned the custom servo-skull at a specific focal point above the dimensional transport device. "We can't confirm endpoint environment, can't confirm messenger survival, much less confirm whether information will be correctly received and executed. Success rate... impossible to calculate precisely."
But without trying, he'd never know the result.
"Old friend, monitor all sensors. Record every quantum-level fluctuation during transport process."
"Command confirmed. All systems monitoring."
Cairo took a deep breath. Mechanical fingers input final commands on the control interface.
Energy surged from the underground base's newly laid main lines into the dimensional transport device. Dark-gold surface patterns suddenly blazed, emitting low resonance sounds seemingly from antiquity.
Visible spatial distortion radiated outward from the transport device. Even light in the experimental zone bent around it.
The custom servo-skull was wrapped in brilliant white light, outline becoming blurred, trembling.
"Energy output stable... Coordinate Beta locked... Dimensional channel constructing..." Cairo calmly reported data, optical lenses locked tight on that glowing mass.
Suddenly, the light violently contracted to a point, then explosively burst with silent shockwave!
Small equipment in the experimental zone shook violently. Energy readings instantly spiked to peak then rapidly dropped.
Light faded.
On the workbench, the dimensional transport device resumed slow rotation, surface glow somewhat dimmed, seemingly greatly depleted.
And that custom servo-skull had vanished without trace.
"Transmission complete. Energy consumption matches high-mass transport model expectations." The servo-skull quickly reported. "Detected brief, directionally clear dimensional rift generation and closure signals."
Cairo stood there silently, sensing faint lingering ozone and strange radiation scents in the air.
Success? At least the transport process itself didn't lose control.
Had that messenger carrying his slim hope now reached the Warhammer universe? Could it activate somewhere and send the encrypted message?
All unknown to him.
"Dice cast into the abyss." He muttered quietly, turning to leave the experimental zone, redirecting attention to vigorous base construction. "Now all we can do is wait and continue fortifying our stronghold."
Meanwhile in Night City, "Edgerunners" crew's reputation rose with several clean jobs.
But that reputation also drew unwanted attention.
Fixer Faraday's probing grew more frequent. Black market bounties appeared seeking their "antique-grade" but devastatingly powerful weapons. Vaguer rumors suggested Arasaka or Militech security departments had developed preliminary interest in members' recently abnormal physiological enhancement signals and equipment upgrades.
Cairo knew well that technological display inevitably attracted covetousness.
Though to him, Night City's corporations could hardly constitute real threats, his ambition—establishing cross-dimensional resource and technology circulation—had quietly planted seeds. And this steel graveyard being reborn beneath his feet was the foundation of all grand designs.
He didn't want experiments and research disturbed. To avoid disturbance, he must strengthen himself, making those flies afraid to harass him.
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