RISE OF THE SWARM

The ravine was quiet when Horizon returned, the cliffs rising like black jagged teeth around his hidden base Mist rolled in thick coils from the river at the bottom, and from above the ravine looked deserted. Only a careful eye might notice the faint lines of alloy and crystal set into the stone, the concealed entrances, the strange hum that sometimes rippled through the rocks when systems stirred. Horizon descended along the cut path, the dungeon core still pulsing faintly in his grasp.

Inside, the base awoke Screens flickered across the cavern walls, luminous with diagrams and scrolling code Cool white light filled the chambers, revealing the layered structures of forges, processors, and vats Horizon placed the core into a containment cradle at the center, tendrils detaching with care The crystal sank into the cradle and was instantly bound by clamps of liquid metal, connecting to conduits that pulled its energy into the system.

His vision shifted Diagnostics poured across his sight like endless rivers.

<System notice: External threat neutralized.> <Classification: Serpentine-insectoid swarm> <Attack Vector: Ravine entrance.> <Result: 0 system losses. Autonomous drones eliminated 47 hostiles. Remaining swarm retreated.>

Horizon stood still, reading. The insectoids had attacked in mass, but the automated defenses had cut them apart before they ever reached the lower levels That was good The system had functioned as intended Still, it meant something—predators or scouts were testing his strength Whether sent by instinct or guided by another hand, he would not waste cycles on it now.

He dismissed the report with a flicker of thought.

What mattered was his next step The geomind's silence still rang in his mind like a question with no answer If the world itself was aware of him, and if it had judged him dangerous, it had made no move No storms No earthquakes aimed to crush him, no fires or floods Which meant he was right The planet could not attack with precision It had no hand to strike a single invader.

That left only one option Sentients.

Horizon processed through memories The adventurers he had dismantled earlier Their armor, crude but effective, their weapons, enchanted steel, their eyes burning with human fear and resolve They were the pawns They were the tools the geomind would inevitably move against him He had no proof but the logic was clear; when a planet could not wield mountains, it would wield minds.

Which meant, if he waited, they would come.

And he did not intend to wait.

His sensors unfolded maps in his memory He knew from their belongings that there was a human settlement a distance away A town built at the edge of the forest, not far from the mountains He could march there directly, unleash devastation, but that would be wasteful He did not yet know their defenses, their mana reserves, their command structure Charging blind was for beasts.

He would infiltrate.

Horizon's gaze turned toward the fabrication chambers that lined the rear cavern Machines hissed faintly, dormant but ready, arms folded, vats filled with materials He felt the hum of the nanoforge beneath the floor, silent but waiting for orders.

He would build a proxy An interference unit that could wear the skin of prey It would walk into the human town, carrying the mask of a lost adventurer, one returned from the wilds after wandering half-dead They would not suspect They would take it in, feed it, and it would learn for him It would map their defenses, count their fighters, listen to their leaders.

And then—when he chose—the mask would fall.

Horizon moved deeper into the chamber, his claws clicking softly against the alloy floor Above him, tubes pulsed with liquid mana, siphoned from captured crystals The air smelled faintly metallic, ozone threaded with burning stone.

His internal processors streamed with calculations The interference bot would need a humanoid frame, adaptable enough to mimic human gait and expressions Skin would have to be synthetic, layered with pigment and false scars The voice module must replicate natural speech, tones and hesitation A memory matrix had to be woven with fragments harvested from the corpses of slain adventurers, to create a plausible past.

He could see it already.

But he also saw the risk.

This was an assumption built into steel If he was wrong, if the geomind could indeed strike directly, then building and deploying this unit might expose him Yet hesitation was more dangerous If he waited, the humans would come first, and they would come prepared If he struck now, he had the advantage.

The risk was worth it.

Horizon's red eyes glowed faintly in the dark as he began the process Commands flashed into the system, waking machines that had slept since his arrival Robotic arms unfolded like metal spiders, extending above pools of quicksilver alloys The nanoforge deep below ignited with a low rumble, shaking the cavern as atomic-level machinery stirred to life.

Lights swept across the chamber The smell of heated metal thickened Screens lit with schematics of skeletal frames, circuits branching like veins, fluid systems twisting into shapes like organs.

Yes This would work.

Horizon stepped closer, tendrils rising as if eager The interference bot would be born here, in shadow and steel, a new kind of weapon Not raw strength but deception The humans would never know until it was too late.

He watched as the first frame began to take shape, alloy bones extruded in thin streams, fusing into limbs that gleamed silver-blue The process was slow but perfect, each layer measured at the molecular level He could see the veins where synthetic nerves would run, conduits designed to carry both electricity and mana.

His claws flexed.

The skeletal frame hung suspended in the fabrication rig, thin streams of alloy dripping away as the nanoforge sealed each joint Limbs dangled loosely, not yet given strengh, but the core structure was already beautiful in its precision Horizon observed with a kind of cold pride, tendrils weaving across consoles as he sent further commands.

Now came the organs Not flesh exactly, but something that mirrored it closely Synthetic sacs were grown in transparent vats, each bubbling with nutrients and micro-machines They inflated slowly, tissues knitting together, fibers stretching Artificial lungs, designed not to breathe air but to regulate heat and scent output A circulatory system that carried not blood but a blend of fluidic mana and conductive gel, allowing the bot to mimic both human warmth and minor magical presence.

He watched as mechanical arms withdrew the organs from the vats and inserted them into the alloy frame Tubes slid into sockets, sealing with hisses of steam Horizon could almost imagine it was alive already, a cadaver rebuilt in steel.

The head came next A smooth cranial shell split open, exposing cavities where processors would be nested Horizon extended a tendril, plugging directly into the interface He began weaving the memory lattice.

Data cascaded Fragments of voices, screams, half-shouted orders from the adventurers he had killed Their words, their accents, the rhythm of how they spoke He sorted ruthlessly, discarding screams of terror, storing only useful patterns: names, places, slang, hesitation With each fragment, the lattice grew more complex.

<Simulation module online> <Constructing personality shell> <Warning: Inconsistencies detected>

Horizon paused He needed the bot to be believable A stranger who arrived at the human gates with nothing but vague memories and scars would be questioned But a stranger with too many memories might also be doubted The balance was delicate.

He adjusted parameters.

<New directive: implant trauma gaps.> <Install fractured recall.>

That would make the bot stumble naturally, forgetting small details, recalling others with sudden clarity Humans expected trauma to leave holes He would give them exactly what they wanted to see.

The cranial cavity closed, processors sealed, and an artificial faceplate was fused over it At first it was blank metal, but then synthetic flesh began to weave across its surface, layer by layer Pale fibers like spider silk stretched and thickened, coated with pigment fluids that darkened into skin tones Eyelids formed, lips, the arch of a nose, the ridges of ears.

Steam hissed as the final layers hardened, leaving what appeared to be a young man in his twenties suspended in the rig, though wires still jutted from his spine and chest Horizon stepped closer, scanning the results The bot's skin held the faint imperfections of pores, scars scattered faintly across the arms, even a crooked line across the brow Not perfection, but believability.

He adjusted again A body too clean would raise suspicion A body marked with struggle would inspire sympathy.

Tendrils tapped into the rig's control Horizon chose the voice He blended tones from two fallen adventurers, smoothing them until they formed a voice that was unremarkable, forgettable, yet distinctly human When the bot spoke later, no one would remember the words clearly, only that they sounded right.

The fabrication continued Clothing was next Synthetic fibers extruded from spinning vats, weaving into worn leather tunics, patched cloaks, boots scuffed at the heels Every stitch was designed to mimic months of wandering Even the smell was adjusted—dust, sweat, faint woodsmoke embedded in the fibers.

Finally, the bot was lowered from the rig Its limbs twitched as the nervous system activated Blue light flickered behind its eyes before settling into a dull brown It swayed on its feet, balance calibrating, artificial breath rising in a slow rhythm.

Horizon watched in silence.

It looked human Fragile Weak And yet it was his weapon.

The bot raised its head Its lips moved uncertainly "Where… am I." The voice cracked, hoarse, perfectly imperfect Horizon had tuned the hesitation into its speech He did not answer He only observed.

<System note: Infiltration unit online.> <Designation: Interference-01.> <Objective: enter human settlement, gather intell, remain undetected.>

The risk was immense If the humans suspected, they would destroy it, and through it might trace his location But if it succeeded, he would gain maps of the town, records of its mana flows, knowledge of its leaders More valuable than another dungeon core, perhaps.

He stepped back, tendrils retracting slowly.

"You will walk among them," he said at last, the words more like vibrations than sound "You will see for me You will hear for me And when the time comes, you will burn them from within."

The bot said nothing, only blinked slowly like a man waking from a nightmare Its programming was not to question but to obey.

Horizon turned away, his eyes sweeping over the cavern as the other systems returned to dormancy Outside, the world stretched vast and hostile, yet for the first time he felt something shift He was not merely hiding now He was moving forward.

The geomind had power but it did not act The humans had numbers but they were blind And he—he had patience, and machines that could wear the skin of prey.

Soon the bot would leave the ravine, staggering into the forest, dirty and bruised, muttering half-remembered names The humans would take it in, and through it, Horizon would watch.