Day 52nd, Year 8:

  Fortresses are made to hold as long as possible, be destroyed, and rise again stronger. Three years of construction, another two years to keep it hidden and set up defenses, and then be driven out of it in a matter of hours. The Schweiglands complex has served its purpose in becoming a relatively hidden venue for my experiments up to its destruction at the hands of the Empire. A considerable loss in resources and manpower. I would have to talk to Mister Norton about our fighting strength, given that all my lost combatants will significantly make me more vulnerable once rival groups find out. This conclusion leads to the fact that relying solely on fighting men for combat strength is far from optimal.

  My findings in creating the dimensional rift are correct, although there is a slight miscalculation on the tremendous energy requirements to keep a small tear open. The question now lies in what kind of entities I could attract if my best energy sources can afford me such dismal returns. Of course, a mere slit is no more than a pinprick in the fabric of realities, and as such could only permit lesser beings to pass through. I could not rely on probability and gamble for a being greater than the stony giant that died by the hand of one of my many hunters. The only direction I can follow in attracting more powerful creatures to control would be to acquire greater and constant energy sources. I am speculating that formidable organisms will be drawn to the energy a larger portal gathers.

  This cannot be done immediately. There will be a need to process large pieces of magical energy-housing crystals to create more cutters. But what if they can be merged into a larger variant? I'll have to do another consultation with the board once everything is settled.

  I have noticed that the control mechanism is more effective on a subject under strain or when its survival instincts push the organism to the brink of despair. This final characteristic of the survival dynamic sheds the target's senses... its awareness, in exchange for added strength and speed. It can be said that this state is where the mechanism can be deployed most efficiently. Whenever the brain is sending an alarm to the rest of the body under a life-threatening situation, or when it orders the rest of the body to destroy the object of its rage makes the manipulation process very easy. This remains effective as long as the subject feels it is under constant threat. The first subject proved to be a successful material for the simpler version of the device. Overriding a lesser being's survival dynamic is not much of a challenge. Now, the test will advance to another stage. The captured soldier shall gauge how effective the control mechanism will be on sentient creatures and to what extent that control can be exercised.

  ????

  The third day of seeing nothing but the ocean's blue darkness from a metal-rimmed window has begun. The Gray Fox occasionally chanced upon the sight of sunlight occupying the waters' upper reaches, but such novelties were too rare and too fleeting to be enjoyed. He felt the submersible ship dive deeper, probably to evade surface patrols that had grown more vigilant since the loss of the crime lord's Schweiglands facility. The Duchy of Alberta's fleet was out to get them or anyone who escaped the takeover of the vast island fortress. He placed his pen on a half-empty ink tub and closed the book he was writing on before he decided to leave his study and check on the crew. He passed by the long and narrow corridor that connected each of the underwater vehicle's sections; only the droning noises of the ship's engine room accompanied the sound of his footsteps. The Gray Fox reached his submersible ship's bridge, where the crew was busy with the vessel's controls. A tricorne-wearing man approached the scientist.

  "Sir, we managed to get past the Albertan cordon. We should be safe for the time being without having to conduct maneuvers."

  "Excellent, captain." The crime lord exhaled in relief. "How long before we get to the other facility?"

  The ship's commander approached a table with a sea chart of the Delitian Content occupying most of the space. "Sailing straight will bring us there in three hours if we encounter none of the Imperials. It looks like the Albertans are yet to seek assistance from the other regions."

  "Possibly double that if we encounter more patrols. In that case, more time waiting. Do we still have enough fuel?"

  "We have more than enough to travel to the forest base, even if we stay underwater for a month."

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  "Excellent." The Gray Fox's gaze lightened, but it was hardly noticeable given the sharp angles of his face. "I should leave you to your work, Captain."

  The master of the ship returned to his quarters and lay dreamless on his mattress. There were thoughts - stirring, relentless, and colorful visions that ran in his mind. Pictures of the fortress, the attacks, and the many cities of Kriemreich formed a collage that showed no meaning. More pictures formed in his mind until an unrecognizable wash of colors spiraled in the sleeping scientist.

  A slight force lifted the Gray Fox from his sleep, followed by weak, continuous knocks on the door. He got up, raked his hair, and sprang seated on his bed. He stood up and took slow steps before reaching the door's round handle; the crime lord removed dirt from his eyes before he attended to the one outside his room. There was one loud click before the door opened slowly.

  "Sir, we have arrived." It was one of the green coats. He stood aside and waited for the syndicate leader to come out of the chamber.

  The Gray Fox climbed up the already-opened hatch and found himself in another cave. This one was well-lit compared to the escape tunnel that housed the Ancamna and was more than four times as wide. There was a lack of the smell of slime and moss; only heavy steam traveled through the halls of the underground docks. The cavern ceiling had steel supports that spanned from one side of the dome to the other; they served no other purpose aside from holding the many downward-pointing lamps. A few men were standing on the wooden and steel dock, but the Gray Fox only took notice of the ones at the center. The leader of his welcoming body was a well-built man with a huge green crystal in his right eye.

  "Congratulations on your safe return, Master," the man said in an almost hissing tone.

  "Consider it a near-death for me. I have been too confident in the defenses," The syndicate leader said, shaking his right fist. "Underestimating the strength of the Empire's soldiers cost me dearly. We have much to talk about, Mister Norton."

  "Of course, Master. We have all the time now. I highly doubt the Navy could manage to follow you all the way here."

  Both men walked out of the docks and into the middle of a steel ceiling and smooth rock walls. The Gray Fox's voice wavered to almost a whisper, hinting to his aide to do the same when both resumed their talks while on the move.

  "You are aware how much in men, materiel, and facilities I have lost after the Empire drove me out of my island. I need you to address one of those issues. There will be... stricter requirements, though. I will not spend a pfennig on men who could not properly hold their weapons. Give me real warriors – those who could not be steamrolled so easily."

  "Hiring such a force will cost us, perhaps more than the value of this base. Our coffers will run out if we use old recruitment practices."

  "How do you suggest going around that?"

  "I have this idea, Master," Norton responded enthusiastically. "Our rivals surely house decent fighters. They could give us our needed men, but they might ask for impossible rates or, even worse, wrest control of the organization from you..."

  "Then what...?" The crime lord spoke in rising irritation.

  "We could hire skilled individuals and team them up to destroy the other syndicates. That will give us the prerogative in assimilating the remnants into our group. They won't be able to object or refuse our demands."

  "Do we even have the strength of arms to persuade or even coerce them into our group?"

  "I have heard your artificers have finished their work on... what's it called?" Norton took smaller steps while looking at the ceiling. "Those metal soldiers they've been rambling on about."

  "Of course. Those desert men at Yis'rallah drove a hard bargain for the knowledge. I will have to speak with the artisans about their progress."

  "Think of it, Master. The machines can be subjected to tests in actual battle conditions. If they prove to be more efficient than hiring fighters, all the better. This is cheaper in the sense that... it also poses fewer problems with acquiring suitable people. We can also deal with more manageable nuisances this way."

  "Where and how are you going to get these 'skilled individuals' you speak of?"

  The Gray Fox began showing interest, but his eyes cast a doubting gaze.

  "I have my sources, of course." Norton's eye glinted against the tunnel's light. "There are many means I can use to pick the best and most trustworthy ones from the rabble."

  "Very well, you decide on what approach you will devise to get this done. You can start working on it right away. Remember that I do not want the government picking up on a trail to us. Make sure your actions would not be noticeable."

  "Yes, Master. I should be on my way then." Norton bowed his head and smiled at the Gray Fox. He left the crime lord when they reached a staircase that led to the upper level of the complex.