Without waiting for a response, Freya moved on, turning toward the side passage. Her steps remained unhurried as she descended to the underground level.
Freya moved down the corridor and stopped briefly, pushing open the nearest door.
Empty.
She didn't linger, closing it behind her as she continued forward.
The next door led her into the workshop. Luthar was already there, placing down the last of the materials he had brought back from the dungeon.
Behind him, a strange girl hovered restlessly, her unease obvious in the way she shifted her weight, her attention constantly drifting toward the exit.
Freya didn't approach him immediately.
Instead, her attention shifted to the chamber.
She stepped closer.
Apollo remained inside, frozen mid-motion, unchanged from the moment of capture. No movement. No resistance. Just presence—contained, suspended.
Freya studied it in silence, her gaze tracing the surface before settling on the figure within.
"If I'd known you had something like this," she said lightly, "I could have kept Ishtar."
Luthar didn't look up.
"It wouldn't matter," he replied. "One divine vessel is sufficient for now."
A brief pause as he adjusted one of the components.
"If more are required later, we can acquire them."
Freya's lips curved faintly, though she said nothing further.
Her gaze shifted instead, moving to the materials laid out across the table.
"Have you gathered everything?" she asked.
"Yes," Luthar replied. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't be here."
The answer came plainly.
Then, after a moment, he added, "If I hadn't finished collecting everything, I would have returned to the dungeon after assisting Lili."
Freya glanced at him, noting it, but didn't comment.
Instead, she moved on.
"So," she said, her tone light but direct, "what's next?"
Luthar's attention remained on the table.
"Analysis of these materials," he said. "And a visit to Mars."
A slight pause.
"To ensure the base still belongs to me and no one is tampering with it."
Behind him, Wiene shifted again, her impatience no longer subtle.
Luthar ignored it.
Freya didn't.
Her gaze shifted instead, settling on the girl.
She didn't speak, only making a slight motion with her hand, indicating Wiene enough to make the question clear.
Luthar followed her line of sight.
Without pause, he reached out and placed a hand on Wiene's head, giving it a brief, absent-minded pat.
"A new pet," he said. "More durable than the cats."
The tone suggested an attempt at humor.
It didn't work.
If anything, it only annoyed Wiene further. Her expression tightened slightly as she brushed his hand away, her gaze shifting toward the door again.
"I'm not a pet," she muttered.
Luthar didn't care about her response. His attention had already shifted, his hand moving across the interface as the system reacted. The chamber behind them remained stable, Apollo's form unchanged as the process continued uninterrupted.
Lines of data formed along the display, updating in steady intervals.
"Extraction cycle is stable," Luthar said, more as confirmation than instruction.
Freya watched him for a moment, then shifted her attention back to the chamber.
"So that's what you plan to use him for," she said.
Luthar didn't look up.
"Extraction of his blood and DNA," he replied, "and to see if his divine energy has other applications."
Freya's gaze lingered on Apollo a moment longer before moving back to the table.
"And after that?" she asked.
Luthar's hand paused briefly over the interface.
"Depends on the results. After that, I may return to Mars and check for any changes."
The answer came without hesitation.
Freya studied him for a moment longer, then said nothing further. Luthar had already returned his focus to the table, his hands moving with steady precision as the system continued its process.
Freya didn't speak again. There was nothing more to ask, and nothing he intended to explain. After a brief pause, she turned and stepped away, leaving him to his work.
Luthar didn't look up.
—
Far from the lab, in a different world entirely, Mephisto walked.
The remains of the city stretched around him, silent in a way that had nothing to do with peace. Buildings stood broken, streets littered with what was left of those who had once lived there. The air carried decay, thick and persistent, as if the world itself had already given up.
He moved through it without resistance, unbothered and unimpressed.
"…What a waste," he muttered.
There was no anger in it, only mild displeasure.
A world reduced to this—endless hunger, no direction, no control. It had potential once. Now it was little more than a failed outcome.
Still, it had one use left.
Mephisto slowed slightly, his gaze shifting forward.
He had found what he was looking for.
Dr. Richards stood ahead, hunched over a crude but functional setup, pieces of salvaged machinery arranged with surprising precision. Even in this state, even reduced to something barely human, the work continues build something.
That much hadn't changed.
The moment Mephisto stepped closer, Richards reacted, lunging at him with clear hunger in his eyes, his movement sharp despite the decay.
Mephisto didn't move. A slight motion of his hand was enough to stop the attack before it reached him, as if something unseen had denied it permission to continue. Richards strained against it, instinct driving him forward, jaws tightening, fingers twitching with the need to tear into something still alive.
Mephisto watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"Looks like you still have plenty of energy," he said, not impressed, simply noting it.
The struggle continued, but it no longer mattered. Mephisto had already dismissed it.
"I have a proposal."
There was no response. This Richards was clearly lacking, not only when compared to the original, but even to other variations he had encountered.
That didn't stop him.
After a brief pause, he continued, "Another world. Intact. Functional. I can take you there."
The movement didn't stop, but it shifted slightly, just enough for Mephisto to notice.
"In return, you build something for me," he said. "A dimensional device, based on the design I provide."
He studied Richards more carefully now, not the hunger or the decay, but what remained beneath it. It was still there—distorted, but functional enough to be used.
"It's better to work with me than continue wasting time on this," he added.
Mephisto held him in place a moment longer, then loosened the restraint slightly—not enough to free him, only enough to test the response.
Richards didn't attack.
That was enough.
Mephisto relaxed slightly, understanding that he hadn't just found a scientist who might help him, but something unpredictable—and potentially dangerous.
But he didn't have the luxury of better options.
He needed a backup plan.
Even if Hydra failed, he still intended to secure his dimensional gate.
Author thought: forget about if you take Parteon membership you get everything from unrelease novel to advance chapter opportunity to make me write new book of course you can even comment here if you have any desire any fun fiction for original story you can talk to me and I will see if I could write.
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