NOVEL NEXT Chapter 100: New Type of Army
The Avalon slowly descended in Tribeca, its engines humming softly as it landed in the center of the community. Zack stood nearby, clad in his armor, waiting patiently yet imposingly for the arrival.
As soon as the Avalon's engines powered down, Zack stepped forward, activating the rear cabin door. Without missing a beat, he issued a sharp command to the two mechanical dogs at his side. "Take those nine to the biology lab."
The mechanical dogs sprang into action. Their sound modules emitted low growls that reverberated ominously in the area. The people inside the cargo hold froze in fear, clutching one another in the corner as if trying to become invisible. Their terror mirrored the reactions of someone seeing a cockroach for the first time—shaking, helpless, and unable to act. "If you don't move, I'll let them eat you!" Zack's voice cut through the air with irritation.
They panicked, their voices a chaotic mix of pleading and trembling protests. "No, please, don't!" one cried out. "God, help us!" another wailed. But their cries fell on deaf ears as the mechanical dogs herded them out of the Avalon, forcing them forward with relentless determination.
Tears streamed down their faces as they stumbled into the basement of the biology lab, where they were shoved into individual holding cells. The clanging of metal doors echoed through the space, finalizing their grim confinement. Zack turned to the group of three standing nearby. He noticed the youngest of them, Mia, hesitating with an uncomfortable expression. "Do you feel sorry for them?" Zack's voice was cold, his tone unwavering.
"N-No," Mia stammered, shaking her head quickly. Her eyes stayed glued to the floor, unwilling to meet Zack's towering steel-clad figure.
"If any of you do, maybe you'd like to share a cell with them. Then you'll understand," Zack said bluntly, his tone sharp enough to send a chill through the air. "You'll see who's really pitiful."
His words struck a nerve. Mia, Lily, and Grace exchanged uneasy glances as the memory of what those people had done to other girls flashed through their minds. Any trace of pity evaporated as anger and disgust took its place. "Let's move. I'll show you where you'll be working," Zack said, his voice steady but firm as he led the trio toward Mansion No. 9. Before they entered the Mansion, however, Zack stopped in the basement.
One by one, he implanted microchips into each of them, ensuring they could be tracked and monitored. Only then did he take them upstairs. "From now on, the three of you will handle the cleaning, cooking, and general upkeep of this place," Zack explained as they entered the Mansion.
The trio's eyes darted around, landing on Sophia, Erza, and little Annie, who all seemed completely at ease in the homey environment. It was then that Mia and the others realized Zack had meant exactly what he said—this was actual work, nothing more, nothing less. A wave of relief swept over them.
"No problem," Mia answered on behalf of the group. They quickly settled into their new roles, adapting to the routines of the Mansion and taking over responsibilities with surprising efficiency. Their cooking, in particular, won unanimous praise after a single meal, even earning the approval of little Annie.
Sophia, however, was less thrilled. With her responsibilities taken over, she found herself with little to do. Frustration led her to the basement, where she confronted Zack with an uncharacteristic pout. "What am I supposed to do now?"
"You'll be a combat unit from now on," Zack said matter-of-factly, not missing a beat. "You've proven yourself in the field with MV-01. I'll design a new suit for you—something that'll let you fight alongside Annie in the future."
His words immediately brightened Sophia's mood. She had been waiting for this for a long time, and Zack's promise felt like vindication. After Sophia left, Zack turned to his AI assistant. "Ego, once the space armor is complete, begin designing a new armor. Focus on containment, support, and medical applications," he instructed.
In the biology lab, the transformation of Subject No. 5 was underway. The special injection chamber hissed open, releasing thick white steam that slowly dissipated to reveal a hulking figure. Standing over three meters tall, the subject's massive frame looked as if it had been sculpted from reinforced concrete. Each breath made the thick cords of muscle ripple beneath his pale skin.
"Subject No. 5: height, 3.54 meters; weight, 725 kilograms," the lab's automated system announced, displaying the details on a holographic screen. "Muscle density and bone structure far exceed normal human thresholds. Subject has undergone a frontal lobotomy. Neural connections in the prefrontal cortex have been deliberately disrupted, resulting in the elimination of independent thought and self-awareness. Current state: fully compliant and responsive to external control."
Zack's gaze shifted to the brain scan projected alongside the subject's physiological data. It showed a detailed cross-section of the brain, with marked areas in the frontal lobe that had been surgically altered. The procedure, a modernized take on lobotomy, involved the insertion of a fine electrode through a small access point in the skull. Once in place, a controlled electrical current disrupted the neural pathways in the prefrontal cortex, the region responsible for decision-making, emotional response, and complex reasoning. By disrupting these pathways, the brain's capacity for higher-order thinking was effectively shut down, leaving behind a functioning body guided solely by external input.
This process was safer and more targeted than historical methods, avoiding crude damage to other areas of the brain while achieving the desired outcome. With the frontal lobe no longer influencing behavior, the subject was reduced to a state of instinctual compliance, highly suggestible and devoid of resistance.
Zack studied the data, his expression unreadable. "He's ready for chip implantation," he said coolly.
At his command, four specialized mechanical spiders scuttled forward. Their metallic pincers clamped onto Subject No. 5's wrists and ankles, securing him firmly to the operating table. A robotic arm descended from above, fitted with an electric drill that bored into the subject's skull. A nanochip, bristling with delicate filaments, was inserted into the exposed cavity. As soon as the chip was in place, the filaments came alive, intertwining seamlessly with the neural pathways of the subject's brain.
Once the chip was connected, the robotic arm sealed the skull with a titanium alloy plate. Subject No. 5 didn't flinch or struggle, the lobotomy ensuring absolute compliance. The entire operation proceeded without a hitch. "Bring Subject No. 5 online and prepare Subject No. 6," Zack ordered, his tone devoid of emotion.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the final four experimental subjects completed their transformations. Out of the original nine, only Subject No. 1 had failed, ending in self-destruction. The remaining eight stood tall, their hulking three-meter frames lined up in the laboratory. Their massive, steel-like physiques radiated an overwhelming sense of power, making it impossible to look away. "From now on, you are fearless warriors," Zack declared, his voice steady as he gazed at the row of imposing figures before him.
Even with his advanced armor, Zack had to tilt his head slightly to meet their unflinching gazes. "Yes, sir!" The eight warriors responded in perfect unison, their voices deep and resounding like a drumbeat.