The success of the Super Soldier Serum experiment marked a turning point.
Combined with verification of Raditus's modified servitor technology, the proof of concept was complete. The methods worked. The risks were quantifiable. The benefits were undeniable.
After days of careful consideration, weighing variables and calculating probabilities, Nolan finally reached a decision: it was time to enhance the gang dogs.
He found David performing routine maintenance on the Valkyrie transport aircraft in one of the upper hangar bays. The Man of Iron had its chassis access panel open, mechanical appendages deep in the craft's engine systems, running diagnostic protocols.
"David, I need you to contact Madame Gao," Nolan said without preamble. "Have her assemble a team of five hundred gang dogs. Experienced fighters only, veterans with proven loyalty. They should be ready for immediate deployment to the base."
David's optical sensors brightened with understanding. "Understood, my Lord. I will transmit instructions immediately."
Next, Nolan sought out Connors in the laboratory. He found his mentor hunched over a workstation, surrounded by samples and chemical analysis equipment. The scientist was conducting preliminary research on the limb regeneration compounds, trying to isolate the active catalytic agents.
"Teach, I need you to prepare Super Soldier Serum doses for five hundred people," Nolan said, leaning against the doorframe.
Connors looked up sharply, his eyes widening behind his glasses. "Five hundred? That's... that's an enormous undertaking. The scale alone..."
"I know. Can it be done?"
"Yes, but it will take time. Several days to produce that volume while maintaining quality control standards." Connors's remaining hand was already moving, calculating requirements on a digital pad. "I'll need to dedicate all production capacity to this single project."
"Do it. Whatever resources you need, David will provide."
Simultaneously, teams of automatic servo robots received orders to transform portions of the second underground level. What had been storage space and unused chambers would become temporary medical facilities. Independent experimental rooms were hastily constructed, each equipped with monitoring equipment, restraint systems, and emergency medical supplies.
The work proceeded with mechanical efficiency. Within forty-eight hours, the space was ready.
A wide passage connecting directly to the underground base's vehicle access point became the staging area. The concrete floor had been pressure-washed clean, the lighting upgraded to harsh white LEDs that left no shadows.
Ten buses, each carrying fifty people, slowly rolled into the passage and came to synchronized stops. Their engines idled for a moment before cutting off, leaving sudden silence broken only by the hiss of air brakes releasing.
Nolan stood at the passage's far end, David beside him, both waiting to receive their recruits.
The bus doors opened with pneumatic sighs.
What emerged was a display of controlled violence barely contained in human form. Gang dogs, five hundred strong, began disembarking with practiced efficiency. These weren't street thugs or casual criminals. These were hardened fighters, veterans who'd survived countless battles against the Hand's supernatural ninja operatives.
Their appearances varied wildly: different ethnicities, ages, body types. But they all shared certain commonalities. Scars visible on exposed skin. Eyes that tracked movement with predatory focus. Postures that suggested coiled springs ready to release devastating violence at a moment's notice.
They moved with military precision, forming neat ranks without verbal commands. The organization was instinctive, born from shared combat experience rather than formal training. Within minutes, five hundred fighters stood in organized formation, waiting for review.
Madame Gao appeared last, descending from the lead bus with grace that belied her apparent age. She wore a black cheongsam that emphasized her dignity and authority. Her white hair was pulled back severely, revealing a face lined with age but sharp with intelligence.
She approached Nolan, and when she opened her eyes fully, green light shone in their depths. Something unnatural, a mark of her own supernatural nature.
"My Lord," she said, her voice respectful and formal, "all five hundred gang dogs you requested have arrived as commanded." She gestured toward the assembled ranks. "They are veterans who have fought countless battles against the Hand's ninja forces. Their loyalty has been tested repeatedly, both in combat and through rigorous psychological evaluation. These are not merely soldiers. They are believers."
"Thank you, Madame Gao. Your efficiency is appreciated as always."
Nolan's expression remained solemn as he nodded acknowledgment. Then he straightened his spine, squared his shoulders, and took a deliberate step forward.
His movement drew every eye. Five hundred pairs of eyes locked onto him with laser focus, waiting.
Nolan swept his gaze across the assembled fighters, reading their faces, their postures, their readiness.
Then he spoke, his voice carrying clearly through the passage despite not being particularly loud. Command presence had nothing to do with volume.
"My name is Nolan. Some of you have seen me before during operations or briefings. Many have not. That doesn't matter, because from this moment forward, I will personally lead you in battle. Every engagement. Every mission. I will be there."
He paused, letting that sink in. A Primarch's promise held weight.
"Most of you probably have questions. Why would I invest such substantial resources in training you specifically? Perhaps some have found answers through past combat experiences. Perhaps others remain uncertain. Today, I will tell you the truth you deserve to know."
Nolan's voice grew harder, more intense.
"From today onward, your combat targets are not limited to human opponents. Yes, our world is far more complicated and dangerous than most people realize or acknowledge. Supernatural monsters that defy scientific understanding. Alien species from across the universe and distant galaxies. Heretical organizations composed of traitor humans who've betrayed their own species. Even out-of-control artificial intelligences capable of extinction-level threats."
He let the words hang in the air, watching comprehension dawn on faces throughout the ranks.
"These aliens and heretics will be your new enemies. They represent existential threats to humanity's future survival. Therefore, you will become humanity's first line of defense against the darkness." His voice dropped lower, more ominous. "You may also become humanity's last line of defense. Do you understand what I'm telling you?!"
The response was immediate and thunderous.
"Report to the leader! Clear!"
Five hundred voices shouted in perfect unison, the sound echoing through the underground passage with almost physical force. The gang dogs puffed out their chests, standing at rigid attention, eyes blazing with sudden purpose and understanding.
The passionate roar continued reverberating off concrete walls, creating overlapping echoes that took long seconds to finally dissipate.
"Very good! Excellent energy!" Nolan nodded heavily, allowing himself a genuine smile. "You'll need that spirit for what comes next."
Then he suddenly raised one arm and gestured sharply.
Automatic servo robots surged forward from behind him like a mechanical tide. Dozens of them, moving in coordinated patterns, each seeking a specific individual in the ranks.
"Everyone will follow one automatic servo robot," Nolan announced, his expression returning to solemnity. "They will guide you to your assigned personal room. There, you will be injected with Super Soldier Serum to dramatically enhance your body's metabolic functions and physical capabilities."
He paused for emphasis, watching shock and excitement war across five hundred faces.
"Yes, this is exactly what you're thinking. The same serum that created Captain America during World War Two. You will become my new super soldiers. My enhanced warriors. The foundation of humanity's defense."
Nolan slowly placed his hands behind his back, adopting a formal military stance.
The gang dogs stared at him with expressions mixing awe, fear, anticipation, and determination. Some looked ready to charge into hell itself. Others showed concern, clearly understanding the risks involved.
David stepped forward, its metal frame catching the overhead lights. The Man of Iron's voice carried clearly as it began issuing specific instructions, directing the servo robots to begin guiding individuals to their assigned rooms.
The organized chaos of movement began. Five hundred people following five hundred robots, moving in orderly streams through passages toward the converted experimental chambers.
Approximately twenty minutes passed before everyone had been settled into their assigned spaces. The passages fell silent again, the massive logistical exercise complete.
Nolan took a deep breath, filling his lungs completely before releasing the air slowly. He turned to face Connors, who'd been waiting patiently throughout the entire process, medical equipment prepared and ready.
"Teach, the rest is in your hands."
Connors's face was flushed with color, whether from excitement or nervousness wasn't entirely clear. He raised his remaining hand repeatedly, wiping beads of sweat from his forehead with nervous energy. Even his voice trembled slightly when he spoke.
"This is what I should be doing. What I was meant to do." His eyes shone with fervor. "Administering Super Soldier Serum on this scale... no scientist in history has achieved anything comparable. This is unprecedented."
He met Nolan's gaze with fierce determination.
"Come on. Let's make history together."
With those words, Connors's expression shifted to something more solemn and focused. He gestured to an automatic servo robot holding a refrigerated containment box in its mechanical tentacles, and together they entered the first experimental room.
Nolan stood alone in the passage for a moment, listening to the sound of doors closing, equipment activating, procedures beginning.
He glanced toward David, who was conducting final inspections of various rooms, ensuring all equipment functioned properly. Servo-Skull Raditus had emerged from the foundry to observe, floating around curiously, unable to resist witnessing such a momentous undertaking.
With nothing immediate requiring his attention or intervention, Nolan walked to a metal chair positioned against the wall and sat down. Now came the hardest part: waiting.
He settled in to spend the time quietly, knowing the next twelve hours would determine everything.
The physical enhancement process for five hundred people lasted nearly twelve hours of sustained, intense work.
Connors emerged from the final room looking utterly exhausted. His face was deathly pale, his movements unsteady. Two automatic servo robots supported him on either side, essentially carrying him toward where Nolan waited.
Despite his physical exhaustion, Connors's eyes burned with manic excitement. He'd witnessed something extraordinary, pushed medical science to its absolute limits, and survived the experience.
"Report," Nolan said simply, standing to receive the information.
Connors swallowed, gathering his scattered thoughts. "Four hundred and forty-four individuals successfully completed the physical enhancement process." His voice was hoarse from hours of continuous work. "Their metabolic rates and body functions now operate at approximately ten times baseline human efficiency. With time and proper conditioning, those metrics may improve further as their bodies continue adapting to the changes."
He paused, and his expression grew more somber.
"However, sixty-six individuals were affected by various complicating factors. Pre-existing medical conditions we couldn't detect. Genetic incompatibilities. Simple bad luck." Connors's voice cracked slightly. "They failed to survive the extreme pain and physiological stress of the enhancement process."
Nolan's jaw tightened, but he nodded for Connors to continue.
"Thirty died immediately during the injection phase. Cardiac arrest, neurological failure, or catastrophic immune responses." Connors looked down at his feet. "The remaining thirty-six survived the serum injection but suffered severe complications. Servo-Skull Raditus has already transported them to the foundry workshop."
"For conversion into combat servitors," Nolan finished quietly.
"Yes. At least their sacrifice won't be completely wasted. They'll continue serving in a different capacity."
Silence fell between them, heavy with the weight of thirty deaths and thirty-six lives fundamentally altered against their will by medical necessity.
Finally, Nolan turned toward David. When he spoke, his voice was soft but carried absolute authority.
"David, compile a complete list of all personnel who died during the enhancement process. Include those who will be transformed into combat servitors in that count. Their sacrifice deserves recognition."
He paused, thinking through the practicalities.
"Arrange substantial financial compensation for their families or designated beneficiaries. Enough money to change lives, to provide security for generations. And ensure our legal team provides ongoing protection to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the bereaved or attempting to steal their compensation through fraud or coercion."
"Understood, my Lord." David's optical sensors flashed bright blue as it began compiling data and initiating financial transfers. "I will personally oversee the legal arrangements to ensure proper protection is maintained indefinitely."
Nolan then directed automatic servo robots to escort Connors back to his personal quarters for mandatory rest. The scientist had pushed himself beyond reasonable limits and needed recovery time.
David, observant as always, recognized that Nolan required solitude. The Man of Iron turned and departed, its footsteps fading down the passage.
Everything around Nolan returned to silence.
He slowly raised several fingers to his face and kneaded the skin between his eyebrows, feeling the tension accumulated over hours of waiting and worrying.
Then he released a deep, heavy sigh that seemed to come from the depths of his soul.
"It is said that sacrifice is the cornerstone of the Imperium of Man," he muttered to the empty passage, his voice barely above a whisper. "It seems my people cannot escape that fate either."
The price of progress, written in blood and broken bodies. Thirty dead. Thirty-six transformed into something no longer quite human.
And four hundred forty-four enhanced warriors ready to defend humanity from threats most people would never know existed.
The math was brutal. The necessity was absolute. But that didn't make it hurt any less.
Nolan sat alone in the silent passage, contemplating the weight of command and the cost of survival in a hostile universe.