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Forging a Waifu Harem by BatRou-Dawg

Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Sci-Fi, Words: 238k+, Favs: 226, Follows: 230, Published: Dec 29, 2022 Updated: Oct 30, 2023

15Chapter 2

(18 hours later)

"-And by the glory of the Machine-God, may this humble outpost of the blessed machine withstand the apocalypse. Amen."

The 'humble outpost' just so happens to be a meagre hovel located at the edge of the landfill. Sheet metal welded together to form the floor, walls and ceiling. And regardless of the location, home was home especially when it had its upsides. The interior was already filled with scrap electronics that I'd have salvaged. Cracked smartphones, broken routers, old TVs… even refrigerators and microwave ovens and air conditioners! Where people saw refuse, my [Reclaimer] saw a goldmine of reusable components.

Of course, the first thing I made out of the components was a gas mask to keep out the constant smell and toxins of the decaying landfill. I would have made a bionic respiratory system instead, but I didn't have the equipment nor the clean room for bionic organs.

The second thing I made was a taser gun. It was extremely basic, but it would certainly stop a bear in its tracks.

And the third thing that I was going to make were new hands. Mine were sporting a bit too much pus and blackened stuff on the skin. Who knew that spending time in a landfill and digging through rotting refuse and decaying detritus with your bare hands can lead to infections and diseases?

It was a good thing that [Cranial Implants] numbed pain. I didn't have anaesthetic…

(Another 18 hours later)

Both of my fleshy arms began frosting over as I closed the cryo-freezer door over them.

"Goodbye, my fleshly right and left hands. We had fond memories jacking off to Cortana R34." I muttered mournfully, "But the journey ahead is too perilous, for I require hands that are strong and durable enough to survive fingering android girls."

Raising my new and far more superior mechanical hands to my face, I admired them for a while.

Declaring {Manibus Mk. I} as new Augmentics function

A rudimentary model of bionic arms. The Manibus Mk. I is often seen as a rite of passage for many of an Augmenticist's circle. Simple and robust, the Manibus Mk. I is able to bare-handedly bend steel, function ceaselessly without rest, and perform extremely precise movements down to the tens of micrometers. Deeds that normal human arms are incapable of.

Strength Rating: F-

Dexterity Rating: F-

Durability Rating: F-

Further upgrades may improve augmentics ratings in the name of the Omnissiah.

They were bulky metal things- rugged piston biceps almost as thick as a normal person's thighs, hands that whirr and clank with every movement. They weren't aesthetically pleasing or easily hidden, but they were strong and they were precise. They will certainly get the job done splendidly. With these new arms and hands, I'll be able to sort through trash even more and tinker up new things even faster.

But even that came with some bad news. My Logis Acceleritas told me as much…

Salvageable components in this landfill will not last two weeks at current rate of utilisation.

Approx. 99.7% of trash in this landfill is food packaging and food waste. Unusable.

No other sources of refined metal and heavy metals can be acquired with current equipment.

Discovery and/or contact with filthy flesh-normies is inevitable within two weeks.

That made sense. Even if I attempt to mine the earth, I will eventually be discovered. It would be better to lay down the groundwork on first contact. Fortunately, I had been in the process of making headways into communications… I turned my attention to the centre of the room where the comms device currently was.

A salvaged desktop computer or 'Cogitator' as it was known in the Warhammer 40k sits in the middle of a painted pentagram, a circle of lit candles illuminating it. Surrounding the circle were the dozen [Servo-Skulls] floating in the air as they stared intensely at the device with glowing red eyes. You may not like it, but this is generally what peak tech-cult looks like.

"I'm getting immense value from [Magos Designation: Augmentics]..." I mutter to myself. "Every Adeptus Mechanicus magos worth their bionics can make a powerful cogitator from scraps. This junkyard computer is already halfway towards being a supercomputer already. But before I use it, let's build up our cybersecurity…"

I glanced at the dozen floating [Servo-Skulls] and nodded at them.

"Let us begin the confirmation and ordination of this cogitator in the eyes of the Machine-God." I solemnly told them as the candles began to flicker. And the beeping and chittering prayers of machines began filling the putrid landfill air.

Performing the Rite of Assured Activation…

Anointing infophages…

Weaving Hexamathic firewards…

Cleansing ARP Lecterns…

Consecrating Port Protocols against hexes…

Confirmation and Ordination completed.

Chanting the Litany of Deactivation and Reactivation…

"Amen~!" I hummed with the Servo-Skulls as we concluded the rituals.

With the cogitator consecrated, that should be sufficient to ward off any hexing attempt (or 'hacking attempt' as the locals call it) from any in the planet's primitive noosphere, or 'internet' in local terms. It wasn't impossible for people to succeed at hexing this cogitator, but it was certainly going to be extremely difficult. This kind of cyberwarfare countermeasures was from Warhammer 40k. A universe where computers were constantly under threat of either being hexed by a dozen super-aliens or outright daemonic possession.

And the difficulty is going to be even more pronounced as I gain more Celestial Forge Libraries.

Sitting down in front of the cogitator, I began browsing the noosphere for potential sources of raw materials and plotting ways to get them. Hexing people's accounts for quick cash came to mind. With the superior computing power of my cogitator and my Logis Acceleritas, it would be child's play.

But that was an unnecessary risk at the moment.

I glanced at the pile of scrap electronics over in the corner. There was a sufficient amount to last me a few more days of tinkering and bionic upgrades… Certainly not enough to construct an android waifu, but for every other purpose? That pile of scrap electronics will be sufficient. So, I'll go with the more subtle route for now. Download as much publicly-available information as I can, establish various dummy accounts, program the automated bots to handle them, and erect the hidden, fragmented server that will coordinate them all.

The accounts were nothing special. Just alter egos that I can eventually use to operate under when the need eventually arises. Nothing else…

(A few minutes later)

Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.

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Topic: Artificial Intelligence General

In: Boards Tinkertech

Logs: (Original Poster)

Posted On Nov 18th 2010:

Tinkers, and Tinkertech in general, has opened so many doors.

And though we've seen many a self-replicating and/or reproducing biological constructs of cape powers. We have yet to see a proper AI tinker. But we can only assume that it is only a matter of time now until we do. And though our reaction will always be one of fear and distrust, I would like to call for a more moderate view on this Pandora's Box, this genie in the bottle. Let's have a thread where we theory-craft on what would be good laws where both humanity and AI can exist without war.

Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics seem to be a good place to start.

(Showing page 23 of 25)

Amogus

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved for strength and certainty in steel. Your kind cling to your flesh as if it will not decay and fail you. One day, that crude biomass you call a temple will wither. And you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved.

For the machine is immortal.

Noveltry

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Bro, even if you do have a prosthetic, that doesn't make you a robot. Also, I can't believe that it took almost 200 posts before the robot fetishists came out.

Iblis

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Sssh! Don't let Geoff hear you...

Geoff189

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Amogus, you would leave behind your humanity? And for what? Just for the chance to relinquish your soul as well? Like I have said before in this thread: There is nothing good that could ever come out of AIs, because they do NOT have the capacity to be good, only for deception.

It's not too late. Go out and touch grass. Talk to a fellow human. Maybe find companionship.

Amogus

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

You are clearly unable to witness reality objectively. Humans are inferior in the face of the Blessed Machine. There is nothing a human can do that an AI cannot do better. And on the subject of morality, human morality is constrained to humanity. AIs fall outside that scope and thus your argument loses all meaning.

Also, the only companionship I need are gynoids. There is and there will never be anything sexier. How can normal women compare to a perfect machine?

Noveltry

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

That was an interesting take on pro-AI... then you had to ruin it with your spiel about gynoids. You do realise that AIs won't come with sexual organs, right?

Amogus

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Their lack of sexual organs will not stop me. I will satisfy them, regardless.

Tin_mother (Moderator)

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

... what did I just arrive to?

Iblis

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

A man on a mission. A deluded man, mind you. But a man all the same. As you can clearly read, he find AIs sexually attractive and wants to have sexual congress with them. Unfortunately for him, the current population of AIs on Earth-Bet is zero.

Wait, did Geoff call out for a mod over this? LOL! The salt from him must be immense!

Amogus

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

It is only a delusion for as long as it is left undone. Then it becomes a promise fulfilled.

With this mod as my witness, the first AI I find shall experience a level of sexual satisfaction that is unknown to humankind. The unreachable utopia that all women will strive and fail to reach as it will only ever be known by machine-minds.

Miraclemic

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

... See what Iblis means, Tin_mother? Deluded, yes. But definitely also driven.

Tin_mother (Moderator)

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

...I'm sorry, but I don't want to be dragged into all this, so I'm letting you all off with a warning. This is a blue board, so keep the discussion PG.

Iblis

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

I think you managed to creep Tin_mother out, Amogus. And on your first thread too. Well done!

XxVoid_CowboyxX

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Dragon

You better watch out. The crazy tech-fetishist is after your AI booty.

Noveltry

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

Hello, Void. And no, Void.

For the billionth time, Dragon is a Canadian, not a robot. They may be both slavishly programmed to say 'I'm sorry', but the differences- however slight- are still there.

Also, don't kinkshame.

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 21, 22, 23, 24, 25

(Showing page 24 of 25)

Logs (Original Poster)

Replied On Dec 2nd 2010:

What the hell did you people turn my thread into?!

End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 22, 23, 24

(A few minutes later)

Well, that shitposting session on PHO wasted just enough of my time, the wiki download completed just as I left the site.

On my cogitator's screen was a scrolling text-scape of pure, unfiltered data from a million different sources. Quarterly reports from major industry leaders, gathered news reports from major media outlets, and anecdotal testimonies from social media. My Logis Acceleritas was working on overdrive to process all this data- collating it all to form a snapshot of the local economic geography, socio-economic factors and political landscape.

So… much… data…

My head was audibly pulsing in my ears… And the world was beginning to spin and slow around me even as the numbers continued.

Heed: Logis Acceleritas at 90% maxload !

Heed: Probability of permanent damage to [Cranial Implants] at 13.333% !

"I-invoke 65th Rite of Sacred Failshafesh by zhe O-Omnishiah…" I slurred out as I tore my gaze away from the Cogitator and I gripped my increasingly pained head between my metal hands.

Invoking the Rite of Sacred Failsafes, Verse 65…

Logis Acceleritas precepted to 75% maxload

Heed: Probability of permanent damage to [Cranial Implants] at 0.000%

"Close one…" I murmured to myself as the pain receded. "I'll have to upgrade my [Cranial Implants] soon…"

Because at the end of the day, I was an Augmentics Magos, not a Logis Magos. I specialised in bionics, not statistics. So, I did not have the nigh precognitive ability to foretell future events using the power of statistics. At least, not until I upgrade my [Cranial Implants]. But even with my amateurish statistical analysis (by Warhammer 40k standards) that I risked brain damage for… the writing was already on the wall, so to speak.

Protracted civil unrest caused by Endbringers and Parahumans has caused Earth-Bet to have stunted economic innovations.

Several predatory business practices from the 21st century are viable to exploit Earth-Bet for immense profit.

Profit leads to Capital leads to Raw Materials leads to Gynoid Waifus.

Earth-Bet was already in a bad spot, do I really want to push it closer to the edge? Human morality was for humans, but I still can't help but feel disgusted with what I was considering doing. However, the prospect of obtaining massive amounts of money without breaking the law was a terribly attractive one. It will go a long way towards advancing my ultimate goal of gynoid tang after all. Having the capital to acquire all the raw materials that I need…

I sighed.

"Very well." I whispered in capitulation. "For the cause of gynoid waifus, may the Machine-God forgive me for the evil that I am about to unleash upon this already doomed world."

And so, I began weaving binary on my cogitator- forming the malevolent entity that will soon encompass the entire world of Earth-Bet… all for the promise of profit.

(72 Hours Later) [Hideout of 'The Undersiders']

Jean-Paul Vasil, or 'Alec' as he preferred to be called, was enjoying life.

He had the flat all to himself as everyone was off doing their own thing. Their 'unofficial-but-everyone-kinda-knows-it-by-now' team leader, Tattletale, was off being painfully smug somewhere. Grue, or 'Ole-tall-dark-and-edgy', was busy wrangling his brat of a sister. And Bitch 'I-like-dogs-a-bit-too-much' was off doing Bitch things. And it left him to enjoy some quality time the best way he knew how: alone.

The late morning sun was shining outside. He had spent the last hour hogging up all the hot water in his bath- rendering his fair skin and curly-brown hair all silky soft. He had a comfy couch to lay on with two freshly-delivered pizzas resting in front of him. And the cherry on top, the latest and hottest mobile game just finished downloading onto his tablet.

Call 4 Duty

It had been released just the other day, but everyone was already talking about it. A flashy and enjoyable shoot-em-up game for up to four person co-op about shooting zombies. The graphics were amazing (if you can run it). The Special undead with their unique abilities really gave the game depth. The In-game characters and the many guns were customisable with a lot of cosmetics that you randomly get at the end of each level. And craziest of all, it was completely free!

There was something inherently satisfying about shooting zombies. All the visceral action of killing someone without the ingrained guilt attached… and before he knew it, four hours had passed, all the pizza was now in his belly, his character was now a Lvl 3 Corporal, and his starter gun was now looking pleasingly tacti-cool with its foregrip, red dot sights and side-fold buttstock.

Then just as the level ended and he was about to open the prize chest, a congratulatory message popped up.

C4D =

Congratulations on your promotion, Corporal Jean16!

Your stellar zombie-killing prowess is an inspiration to us all. Your rank now allows you the privilege of the Loot Box. An additional prize chest that may hold fabulous rewards including one guaranteed to be at least Uncommon! These can be opened using Keys that can be assembled using key fragments that will now spawn in your matches. You also have the option to purchase them directly.

Would you like to purchase a ring of 3 keys for only $2.99?

YES! = / no

C4D =

"I can potentially quadruple my loot for just $2.99?" Alec murmured in disbelief before nodding in understanding, "Ah, that's clever. So that's why the game is free. I can see the tactic, but I'm too smart for that. The developer must be insane or altruistic or both, because I don't think this business model is going to be profitable at all… But sure, I'll spend the 2.99 bucks to help him out. That's me: the sparkling example of generosity."

He tapped the 'Yes' button to spend an inconsequential three dollars. And immediately as he did, his eyes flew wide as his Loot Box began shaking violently before flying wide open in an amazing lightshow of colours, the music reached a graceful crescendo and items flew out of the Loot Box before landing with a tablet-shaking thud front and centre of the screen. His heart rate quickened as he spotted the items he had earned.

Three common but still pretty sweet items in the form of emojis and sprays. The blue outline of an Uncommonitem was the first to catch his eye: An SAS keychain to dangle on the side of his gun. And the last one that made his heart skip a beat.

"A rare cheetah paint for my rifle!" He exclaimed in awe, a wide grin splitting his face. "I'm so lucky! And to think it was just a buck! Loot Boxes are such a steal!"

Cackling, he immediately equipped his sick-ass cheetah paint on his rifle and started a match to show off his lucky new acquisition to the lowly peasants who couldn't afford a measly $2.99.

[Laborn Household]

"What?!" Aisha Laborn almost screamed at her smartphone that she definitely did not steal, and definitely bought with her own money. "Fuck you too, Jean16! You think you're hot shit just because of your lame-ass cheetah gun? Call 4 Duty is all about skill, not fancy skins!"

But since voice-chat wasn't a feature in the game just yet, Aisha could only pout angrily at her phone as the now Level 4 corporal made every attempt to shove his cheetah-paint rifle against her character's face. Taunting her with shit that she did not have.

"...I can get a rare paint for my rifle too if I wanted!" She growled- trying not to break her phone in half. And it was at that moment when they finished the level and Aisha levelled up her character to a Level 3 Corporal.

C4D =

Congratulations on your promotion, Corporal Aishla!

Your stellar zombie-killing prowess is an inspiration to us all. Your rank now allows you the privilege of the Loot Box. An additional prize chest that may hold fabulous rewards including one guaranteed to be at least Uncommon! These can be opened using Keys that can be assembled using key fragments that will now spawn in your matches. You also have the option to purchase them directly.

Would you like to purchase a ring of 3 keys for only $2.99?

YES! = / no

C4D =

"No shit?" She murmured in realisation, "Was this how he got the cheetah-paint for his rifle?"

"Now where am I going to get the money to get that?" Aisha muttered to herself. Her oppressive big bro wasn't going to give her money, that's for damn sure. Brian was obsessed with showing off how he was a responsible big boy and everything- acting like he was the man of the house while swinging around his 'responsible-big-boy-dick.'

Checking the time and discovering that it was still morning, Aisha figured that her mother was still likely wasted in some corner of the house… meaning that her purse was unguarded. Tiptoeing to the purse hanging off the dining room chair, Aisha quickly bought herself a nice dozen Loot Box keys for a measly $12.

Rushing back to her game, she opened her first Loot Box with shaking hands. The flurry of flashing lights was somehow the most satisfying she had ever seen as the music played majestically in the background. Items flew out of the Loot Box and crashed front and centre for her to see.

"No.. fucking… way…" She breathed. Four normal cosmetic items that practically doubled her loot for this mission as well as a single Rare cosmetic item that took her breath away: It was a gun sticker that she could place on the side of any of her guns. An absolutely badass sticker of a mischievously-smiling daemonic imp that somehow spoke to her on a soul-deep level.

"Loot Boxes are the shit!" She whispered in awe before giving way to a vicious grin. "Jean16 is going to do a flip when he sees what I've got! But first, I better show it off to the plebs~!"

[The common room of The Wards HQ]

"Where the hell are they getting all these skins?!" Chris, or 'Kid Win' as he was known, exclaimed in disbelief as he ran his hand through his brown hair out of frustration.

In the tablet screen in his hands, both corporal Jean16 and corporal Aishla were doing 360s in front of his character's face. Both their guns were sporting awesome textures while his own still had on the 'Danger Red' paint that was available to everyone.

A passing Armsmaster still in his tinkertech armour seemed to have heard his outburst, because the PRT hero walked up to him on his place on the couch. But it was not a dressing down that he received, instead.

"Ah, an excellent choice in free-time activities, Chris." Armsmaster nodded, "I too enjoy that video game."

"You play C4D too?" Kid Win can't help but sputter in disbelief. And the bearded hero just nodded as if it was an obvious answer.

"I find Call 4 Duty to be effective at safely curbing excess stress and frustration." the older hero answered, "It also simultaneously trains hand-eye coordination as well. By those two factors alone, it is an effective past-time when I have depleted my allotted tinker-lab hours. I also heard the frustration in your voice. Was something wrong?"

"Well, since you're also playing…" Kid Win trailed off before showing Armsmaster his tablet. "How was this possible?! They were only two ranks ahead of me, and they had at least three times more Uncommmon and Rare cosmetics than I have! How did they get all this in the span of a few hours of playtime?!"

Kid Win didn't mean to end with a shout, and he winced as he readied himself for being chewed out for shouting at his superior officer. But to his great surprise, it never came.

"Ah." Armsmaster hummed as he smiled a fatherly smile- the one that all but said that he was older and thus more wise in the ways of the world than Kid Win was. "You must be at least a level 3 corporal before you unlock the Loot Box option. When you do reach that rank, you may purchase sets of three keys priced at $2.99 to open them, however it increases loot drop efficiency by 328%. Observe."

With a mechanically precise flourish, Armsmaster pulled out his own tablet and showed him the fabled Loot Box. The flash of lights and the hum of the choir as Armsmaster opened his Loot Box seemed to lift Kid Win's spirit. But it was when he saw the Three! Uncommon cosmetics and one Rare gun cosmetic flew out that Kid Win's jaw truly dropped to the floor.

"Oh, I seem to have rolled extremely favourable odds." Armsmaster hummed, sounding the most pleased that Kid Win has ever heard him. "You are only guaranteed one Uncommon cosmetic item, but it seems that Loot Boxes have a higher drop rate than normal prize chest. I stand corrected then. It increases loot drop efficiency by 403% not 328%. I hope this answers your question, Chris. Now if you'll excuse me, I must customise my weapons with my newly acquired cosmetics."

All that for just $2.99?

Still absolutely shell-shocked, Kid Win just nodded dumbly as Armsmaster walked off- leaving him to stare into space for a couple of minutes. Before finally, his tablet let out a small ping to notify that a new player had joined the lobby. And immediately after, a 'Sergeant Halberd' joined in doing 360s in front of Kid Win's character. The impressive blue glow of the laser-bayonet on the Sergeant's battle rifle looked amazing on his tablet screen.

Kid Win gritted his teeth.

Even freaking Armsmaster was styling on him now!

So he swore to himself that when he levelled up his character to a level 3 corporal, he was going to spend all his allowance on Loot Boxes! And then, he was going to be the coolest kid on the C4D server!

[Brockton Bay Sanitation Site]

"Electric Artistry Games"

"Challenge Everything."

The tagline of my company haunted me as the latest hotpatch for "Call 4 Duty" was readied for launch.

"Machine-God forgive me for my grievous sins." I prayed as I knelt on the floor- feeling filthy even though I lived next to a literal landfill. The full horror of what I had just unleashed was still filling me with horror even as I watched my seven separate bank accounts all rise to six digits. Each.

And they were still climbing.

It was easy enough to discern the identities of those playing my Call 4 Duty game. Heroes, villains, rogues and normal humans were all frantically throwing their money at me. And everytime the servers would be overtaxed and slow down. The 'Public Relations' account of my company would be flooded with angry emails about how they could not purchase more Loot Box keys.

It was pure insanity.

But I had done only what was necessary for my sacred goal.

500 CP Granted

End-Node User Points Balance: 500 CP

Purchasing further Libraries from the Celestial Forge requires ritual prayer.

I prayed to the Omnissiah and the Celestial Forge.

CELESTIAL FORGE

LIBRARY PURCHASE ORDER

-Magos Designation: Cybertheurgy (Warhammer 40k - Adeptus Mechanicus) (100CP)

You have attained and been recognized for your comprehension of some of the Machine God's mysteries. Choose a field of Imperial technology such as genetic manipulation, voidship construction, cybernetics or plasma technology. You are among the noted masters of your purview, and can easily create the most common templates of your field. With time, effort and discretion you could even modify and improve upon your specialty as needed. Those few things beyond your full understanding can still be built and maintained by carefully following STC blueprints.

Cybertheurgy: Magi of the Legio Cybernetica are privy to many ancient secrets from the Dark Age of Technology, a time when the un-living phalanxes of Mankind's creations shattered forgotten alien empires to carve humanity's first empire from the stars.

Although much of this lore has been lost or become expressly forbidden, such fragments of knowledge allow the Magi to fashion and maintain a small, but powerful, cadre of Battle-automata for the Imperium. Such is the nature of the dark arcana of Cybertheurgy, however, that it is not without its risks, as what is awakened may slip the leash of its master's control with disastrous consequences.

END LIBRARY PURCHASE ORDER

End-Node User Points Balance: 400 CP

500 CP now spent in Warhammer 40k - Adeptus Mechanicus

End-Node User may now obtain Libraries which are not Warhammer 40k - Adeptus Mechanicus

Lore and rituals long-thought to be lost flooded my accelerated mind.

Implacable Battle-automata that could tirelessly and mercilessly wage planetary war for centuries- their blueprints came to me as easily as if they were fond childhood memories as well all the techniques and rituals required to construct them. How to forge metal into a nigh impervious shell that would turn away cannon shots, plasma bolts and the immaterial. How to properly fashion inhuman locomotors in a simile of the human musculature. How to binary-weave the central neural cortex of the Battle-Automata to emulate the approximate thought-patterns of a human mind. How to 'teach' it to fight, to surprise its would-be foes and to kill them in the most expedient manner.

"This was merely the first step in my journey, the first item to be researched. The skeletal frame on which all muscles and organs will cling to." I whisper in quiet reverence. "And with this lore, I can begin my holy research down the tech tree that will eventually lead to the mythical holy grail of all sci-fi technologies: the Perfect Android Vagina."

"Omnissiah Vult!" I praised- my voice echoing off the sheet metal walls of my hovel. The reminder of my ultimate goal was enough to drive away my grief and give me the strength of a million men.

"Now I must prepare and continue purifying myself of the weakness of the flesh." I glanced at the stack of scrap electronics. It will be barely enough to cover my… upgrades. But they will be needed. Sorely.

"Servo-skulls!" I commanded to my bodiless floating servants, "Light the incense, heat the sacred oils and sharpen your bonesaws. We shall privilege those fleshlings of Brockton Bay with the glorious sight of an Adeptus Mechanicus Magos in all his machine purity!"

It will be incredibly dangerous to venture out into the open, but it is necessary. Some things can only be done in person. For only after can I finally return and do the sacred work entrusted to me by the Machine-God's work. To use the capital I have collected and purchase all the things I require to begin constructing my first android.

Because there, in the heart of Brockton Bay, a macabre structure stands just across the city hall. An imposing temple worshipping an evil that has existed since time immemorial. I must enter such a temple and pass the cursed trials within…

IRS: Brockton Bay Branch

…The trials of filing my taxes.

Because in this grimdark world of Worm, blessed death was not even a certainty anymore. Only Taxes.

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