"Dr. Fran, what is an STC?"
"Hmm... I personally prefer to call it a 'Standard Template Construct.' Of course, some mentally unstable Mechanicus folks call it the 'Omnissiah's Blessed Tome.' But there's no essential difference between the two terms."
Fran toyed with the small copy-drive in her hand, thinking about how to solve its ammunition supply issue.
"It's a technological guide covering everything from material acquisition and synthesis to industrial manufacturing. With AI guidance, ideally... this little thing could let primitive humans make next-generation weapons."
"If the STC were complete, it could nearly reproduce all the technology of an entire civilization. Of course, the one I have is just a fragment."
Hearing her description, a glimmer lit up Sigrid's eyes. She seemed to have taken an interest.
"What a brilliant concept... If the Lost Age had similar preservation methods, perhaps the White Cup and our Cult wouldn't be constantly troubled with how to reverse-engineer some relics."
Hearing this, the smile at the corner of Fran's lips deepened slightly.
Oh, actually, the human empire possessing this technology still lost vast amounts of knowledge during the Age of Strife after the technological Dark Age and is still busy with archaeology all the time...
"If Sigrid is interested, then let's connect it to the terminal for you to study."
As she spoke, Fran led Sigrid toward the collection room.
A complete set of large-scale computing equipment was placed there, the consultation fee from one of her previous house calls.
The instrument itself wasn't particularly dangerous. The main reason it was in the collection room was its overly large size, as if dismantled from a starship.
——
The collection room was as usual: vast, dark, cold, and silent.
In the lightless gloom, the passage of time seemed to lose its original meaning.
Everything here was sealed in display cabinets, either extremely dangerous or simply mementos. But their destiny was to be submerged in silence, no different.
Only one possibility could bring these collections back into the light... the will of Fog Street's owner.
One could see a brain-shaped metal mass crawling in the shadows, slowly approaching the cabinet holding the Necron Flayer.
Hmph, based on past experience, that woman only comes in every four or five months. If I can find a way to break open this glass case during that time, I can reshape a body with this skeleton...
Damn it, I'll definitely make her...
Without a host, the power this "Dreamweaver" could muster wasn't even enough to support its movement. So it could only crawl slowly, looking for a suitable angle to ram the cabinet.
Due to many inconveniences of its body, it had taken considerable time just to reach this position.
The Dreamweaver had waited for this moment for who knows how many years, so much so that it now felt a flicker of tension.
Thud!
It summoned all the power it had accumulated, ramming the cabinet with its own mass.
The collection room was clean and dust-free, so this only made a considerable noise without raising dust. After the daze from the impact faded, the Dreamweaver carefully examined the cabinet before it and was horrified to find this thin cabinet surface still pristine and new.
Fran had once complained about something... that set of Sanctified Armor with autonomous combat protocols for the Grey Knight went berserk and damaged her glass. From this situation, one could glean an obvious piece of information.
...Even Power Armor made of ceramite could only leave cracks on the cabinet partition, not shatter it completely.
Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.
The Dreamweaver didn't know the material composition of the display cabinets or the protective measures Fran had set, so it could diligently devote energy to an impossible task.
If it knew these cabinets actually used phase protocol technology in their interlayer, it probably wouldn't have the motivation to try anymore...
Just as the Dreamweaver was dizzy from failure, it glimpsed a sliver of light seeping through the door crack and two figures gradually approaching.
"Trying the jailbreak hero act again, how hardworking."
Fran, somewhat annoyed, picked up the mechanical brain from the floor and tossed it into the empty cabinet. Actually, only that cabinet had an opening at the top... To some extent, this Dreamweaver was the collection room's mascot.
Croak, no, no way... How did she come so early this time? Damn, being discovered like this, what will this woman do to me now?
Sigrid watched this scene, a flicker of confusion in her molten gold eyes.
Didn't I put that thing in there myself last time? How did it get out again?
"Um, Dr. Fran, why do you let this thing wander around the collection room?"
Since Sigrid would be managing this collection room most of the time going forward, Fran's explanation this time was quite detailed.
"This little fellow contains a virtual personality model. Giving it some freedom of movement can deepen the model's learning and evolution. But... since the model's foundation comes from a role similar to a 'lackey,' it ends up not very clever no matter how you train it."
After all, those equipped with Dreamweavers were mostly like bloodthirsty cannon fodder, so it's hard to expect them to suddenly awaken some "earth-shattering wisdom."
Fran pursed her lips slightly, seeming somewhat regretful about this.
"Don't worry, Sigrid. The collection room's security level is higher than you imagine. It can't interfere with other collections. Next time you're tidying the room and see it, just pick it up and put it back."
"Alright."
Sigrid glanced at the metal brain in the cabinet, then softly agreed.
Immediately after, the two walked to the computing equipment located deep in the storage room.
Fran approached the partition of the massive cabinet, slightly opening her eyes. Only after passing the permission authentication did the partition open a gap large enough for a person to pass through.
She led Sigrid inside, turned on the entire instrument, and placed the copy-drive into a slot.
"The AI in this instrument is in a dormant state; currently, it's just a pure device. No need to worry about it exhibiting overly personified behavior."
As she spoke, Fran took a rather small terminal from one side of the instrument and placed it in Sigrid's hand.
"Sigrid, you don't need to come here every time for research. With this terminal, you can establish a connection with the main device. It'll be more convenient when attempting forging as well."
"Hmm, I understand. Thank you for your trust, Dr. Fran."
Sigrid nodded, accepting the terminal with a somewhat solemn expression.
"But..."
When she spoke, she bit her lower lip slightly, her hands dropping somewhat uneasily in front of her abdomen, seeming a bit embarrassed.
"Um, what is an AI? And a terminal... what do these instruments specifically mean?"
Hearing this, Fran narrowed her eyes slightly, realizing she might not have considered the era Sigrid came from.
Oh, although this child has a deep and thorough understanding of weapon forging, regarding such overly next-generation electronic products, she still needs to cram some basic knowledge...
——
After a session of basic knowledge instruction from Fran, Sigrid finally gained a sufficiently deep cognition and understanding of modern science and could operate the terminal in her hand fairly proficiently.
This portable little instrument could connect to the host AI, providing real-time guidance for STC projects. And the instruction was extremely detailed, practically a default fool-proof mode...
The AI possessed a personified judgment model, capable of analyzing and allocating resources based on what the owner had available.
If the provided material strength was insufficient, it would offer alternative substitution plans and refinement plans for the original materials.
In the forging room, the bellows roared, the light from the furnace nearly white-hot.
Sigrid brought her forging hammer down heavily, a resonant metallic hum following.
Clang!
With the heavy tremor, fragments peeled off the metal block on the anvil, scattering like iron sparks.
In fact, the forging room Fran had set up for Sigrid was equipped with a power hammer for forging... But she still preferred forging materials by hand, allowing her to feel the operation state of the Molten Gold ritual more meticulously.
After becoming an alchemical lifeform, the artisan lady's strength and precision had surpassed the limits achievable by humans. Practically no different from a humanoid power hammer...
"According to this lady called AI, most of the materials I produce through alchemy can be used for this weapon. But some special processing for property conversion is still needed..."
Sigrid's face was illuminated by the furnace's fierce flames, licking tongues of fire swirling around her face, as if also captivated by those blazing golden eyes.
For the vast majority of humans, the high temperatures dispersing within this forging room were lethal. Because it wasn't designed for ordinary people from the start, being the maid lady's exclusive room.
"The crossbow part isn't hard to make. It only has some detail differences from the standard issue crossbows of Secret-Hunters; the basic concept isn't different. But the bolt weapon part is very complex and needs some time for adjustments..."
Looking at the semi-finished product still in a red-hot state in her hand, she whispered softly.
After the previous experience of reforging the power sword "Nirvana," her philosophy on forging and creation had also been tinged to some extent by the perfectionism Fran upheld.
Not to make it flawless, but at least to give it a unique "design soul."
In the moment the forging hammer fell, Sigrid would feel as if she were a deity of creation, forging new life amidst molten gold and smoke.
This was also why she loved creating forged objects.
As the metal in the forge gradually cooled, a mature female voice sounded from the terminal. She was the artificial intelligence residing in that computing device.
"Using material 'Unknown,' identified as ceramite-like substance. Gun barrel material compatibility 93%."
"Listing part shaping techniques for you—"
"Possible usable schemes and specific structural blueprints have been presented."
"Phew. Thank you for your instruction, Lady AI."
Sigrid exhaled a wisp of hot breath, then began examining the blueprint and the specific principles for the next step.
Although Fran said the artificial intelligence residing in that large computing device was in deep sleep and wouldn't exhibit overly personified behavior.
To some extent, this also meant it truly once had self-awareness.
Therefore, Sigrid would still thank it for its instruction.
This was a habit as an artisan, also respect for the knowledge of forging.
As this Sun-Forging artisan gradually deepened her understanding of this forged object according to the blueprint, the winter's cold night also gradually came to an end.
As dawn approached, she finally put down her forging hammer, and the bellows' breath ceased with it.
Tonight she had gained a nearly vast amount of forging knowledge; now she needed some time to let her excited, nearly frenzied thoughts cool down.
Just as Sigrid was about to rest briefly and transcribe her insights into a book... she heard the terminal speak without her having asked a question.
"Please tell me your name, esteemed creator."
——
At dawn, pale morning light passed through clouds and window frames, carrying a wisp of almost meager warmth onto Fran's face.
She pushed back the blanket, sat up straight in bed, then rubbed her eyes with some weariness.
"Hmm... It was unusually cold last night, and my chest felt a bit stuffy. What's going on?"
As she spoke, Fran saw the slender deer hooves pressing down on her blanket and a deer-bodied girl curled up in a corner of her bed.
Even in sleep, Luyala retained some capacity for movement and would act according to some strange instinct. For example, seeking the safest and most comfortable spot in the surrounding environment... In terms of manifestation, it resembled "sleepwalking."
Undoubtedly, she was the culprit who had stolen most of Fran's blanket...
Fran pursed her lips slightly, somewhat annoyed as she pinched Luyala's cheek, then couldn't resist a slight itch in her hands to stroke the smooth, glossy fur on her side.
The touch was soft and warm; it seemed working at Fog Street Clinic had indeed ensured this mythical creature's nutrition and development.
But she still hadn't awakened, or rather, hadn't "fallen asleep" in the dream dimension.
"Is she really that insecure?"
Fran's gaze lowered slightly, and she let out a small sigh.
Luyala's behavior seemed like just searching for a new warm nest, but it could actually be seen as a kind of subconscious projection. Reflecting that she still harbored unease in her heart, thus needing to seek a sense of security from the outside.
But what exactly is she afraid of?
The erosion of the Ant-Scale Door, or something else?
Fran didn't try to wake her. Instead, she put on her fleece slippers, got out of bed, and prepared for today's grooming.
Since discovering Sigrid's enthusiasm for managing her hair, she had almost never braided it herself again...
"Speaking of which, it's already April. Time flies. According to the previous travel plan, it's time to go to Gormouth."
Just as she was talking to herself, a light knock sounded at the door.
Knock.
"Dr. Fran, are you awake?"
Sigrid's voice came from outside the door. Even though the door wasn't locked because Luyala had come in earlier, she still rigorously adhered to proper etiquette, accustomed to waiting for a response before entering the bedroom.
"Come in."
+++
T/N: Hey readers~! New Translator here! Before I say anything, I'd first like to thank the original author for creating this wonderful story. Without them, I wouldn't have the chance to share this adventure with you. I hope my translation does justice to their work, and that together, we can enjoy this story.
With that said, I'm happy to let you know I'll be uploading daily chapters. And for those who wish to support my work and gain early access, I've set up a Patreon where advanced chapters will be available.
[email protected]/PeakTL