Dr. Dew leaned against the central console, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the reinforced steel. The blue glow of the schematics cast sharp shadows across his face, reflecting the intricate details of their most ambitious endeavor yet. Across from him, Leonardo da Vinci and Paracelsus stood in quiet contemplation, eyes scanning the projected display of their Starbound-class vessel. The problem was no longer construction or infrastructure—the ship was built, the city thrived, and Synths had begun creating a society that blended science, art, and industry. The issue, however, remained Erchius.
"We'll deal with the Erchius issue," Dr. Dew said at last, pushing away from the console and stretching his arms. "But not now."
Leonardo's brow furrowed. "Not now? Dew, you do realize that without Erchius, all of this"—he gestured toward the blueprint of their spacecraft—"is nothing but a beautifully engineered coffin."
Paracelsus adjusted his gloves, his mind already dissecting Dew's statement. "You have a plan. I can hear it in your voice."
"I do," Dew admitted, shutting down the projection. "But right now, there's something else we need to focus on."
Leonardo crossed his arms. "And that would be?"
Dew smirked. "Relaxing."
Silence followed.
Paracelsus blinked. "You're joking."
"Not at all," Dew replied, stepping away from the console. "We've buried ourselves in work for too long. If we keep running ourselves into the ground, we'll burn out before we even take off."
Leonardo scoffed. "Dew, we are on the precipice of something that will rewrite history. And you want to take a vacation?"
"Exactly." Dew's tone was unwavering. "We need to step back. See what we've built. Not as scientists or engineers, but as people."
Leonardo and Paracelsus exchanged glances, their expressions uncertain. But the logic was undeniable. They had been so focused on the mechanics, the schematics, the long nights spent refining metal and recalibrating the ship's systems, that they had barely set foot outside their workshop in months. The city had grown beyond their original vision, and they hadn't even taken the time to witness it.
And so, they left the lab.
The city was alive. Synths walked the cobbled streets, their voices forming a steady hum of conversation. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from handcrafted goods to advanced technological components. The architecture was an eclectic mix—Leonardo's Renaissance influence shaped the grand facades, Paracelsus's alchemical flourishes adorned the streets with ornamental designs, and Dew's practical efficiency ensured every structure stood with both purpose and beauty.
They moved through the bustling avenues, visiting shops filled with creations inspired by their combined knowledge. A tailor showcased garments woven with modern synthetic fibers, yet draped like the finest Italian silks. A smith demonstrated a forge that operated on a hybrid of traditional coal and thermoelectric energy. The blend of past, present, and future had created something unique—something that wasn't just a colony but a civilization.
They sat in a café, one of the newer establishments run by a Synth that had taken an interest in leisure. The proprietor, recognizing them immediately, refused their payment. Dr. Dew, Leonardo, and Paracelsus had become more than creators—they were seen as mentors, the foundation of this society. Though they hadn't intended it, the Synths viewed them as family.
A week passed in a blink. They visited libraries filled with knowledge from lost civilizations, watched performances crafted by Synths who had discovered the joy of storytelling, and even took part in painting sessions. Leonardo led the lesson, amused by Dew's functional yet uninspired brushwork, while Paracelsus, much to everyone's surprise, displayed a delicate precision for detail. For the first time in a long while, they weren't thinking of survival, technology, or advancement—they were simply existing.
But all things came to an end.
On the seventh day, they stood once more in the lab, the moment of peace behind them. Dew sat at the terminal, his hands clasped together as Leonardo and Paracelsus took their seats across from him.
"You gave us a week off for a reason," Leonardo said, watching Dew carefully. "So now that we're here, let's hear it. What's the real reason you wanted us rested before this meeting?"
Dew exhaled. "Because what I'm about to tell you is going to be exhausting, and there's a good chance it'll be the most dangerous project we've undertaken so far."
Paracelsus frowned. "Go on."
Dr. Dew activated the display again, this time pulling up an entirely different blueprint—a planetary Terraforming Operation.
"I can't create Erchius," he admitted. "Not directly. I lack the understanding of how it forms naturally. But I know how to force it into existence."
Paracelsus folded his arms. "A workaround?"
Dew nodded. "We terraform the moon."
Silence.
Leonardo's expression hardened. "Terraform? You mean to reshape its fundamental structure?"
"Exactly," Dew confirmed. "We use multiple G.E.C.K.s to alter the environment, changing its properties until it begins producing Erchius naturally."
Paracelsus stroked his chin. "A radical approach. But it assumes the G.E.C.K. can be modified for this purpose."
"I've already run simulations," Dew continued. "We can tweak the parameters. The problem isn't the process—it's surviving long enough to see it through."
Leonardo frowned. "Oxygen."
Dew nodded. "And something worse. Something you don't know about yet."
Paracelsus raised an eyebrow. "Worse?"
Dew exhaled. "The Erchius Ghost."
Leonardo and Paracelsus exchanged confused glances.
Dew continued, his voice steady. "When we start mining Erchius, an entity appears. The more Erchius we extract, the faster it becomes. It can pass through solid matter, sense where we are, and it cannot be destroyed."
Paracelsus' expression darkened. "You're saying the moon is haunted?"
Dew gave him a sharp look. "Not haunted—predatory. It exists to consume those who take Erchius."
Leonardo leaned forward. "And how do we stop it?"
Dew pulled up another schematic. "We build a force field generator."
Leonardo waved a hand. "We've built those before."
"This is different," Dew countered. "A normal generator won't work. The only way to repel the Erchius Ghost is to fight fire with fire—use Erchius itself as the power source. The generator needs a constant Erchius supply to produce the right frequency of force field."
Paracelsus frowned. "And that means—"
"We won't have a force field until after we start mining," Dew confirmed. "Once we activate the Erchius mining operations, we need to extract and power the generator as fast as possible before the Ghost catches us."
Leonardo rubbed his temples. "And what's the second worst-case scenario?"
Dew's expression turned grim. "If we dig too deep, we could wake something worse."
Paracelsus inhaled sharply. "The Erchius Horror."
Dew nodded. "If we mine into the wrong place, we might end up in its lair. If that happens, everything we've built could be lost."
Leonardo groaned. "This mission just keeps escalating."
Dew smirked. "You're the one who wanted a challenge."
Leonardo sighed. "Fair point."
Paracelsus exhaled. "Then we proceed. Step one: build the E.P.P. backpacks."
Dew nodded. "And after that, we head to the moon."
The time for rest was over. The mission was set. They were no longer just builders, architects, or scientists.
They were pioneers.
And the void was waiting.
End of Chapter Twenty-Three