The laboratory lay buried deep beneath layers of rock and reinforced concrete, far below anything that appeared on a map meant for civilians.

  Moisture seeped from the stone walls and collected in shallow channels cut into the floor, carrying away condensation and chemical runoff alike. Pipes ran overhead in dense bundles, some warm, some cold, all of them humming faintly with power or pressure. Bare bulbs hung from metal cages, their light harsh and uneven, casting long, distorted shadows that crawled across the room.

  It was not clean. It was not elegant.

  It was productive.

  Commandant Toman stood near the center of the chamber, hands clasped behind his back, boots planted wide on the stained concrete floor. His uniform was immaculate despite the surroundings, pressed and decorated with the subtle markers of authority rather than ostentatious rank. Dark hair framed his face neatly, and a massive, bushy mustache dominated his expression, giving him the perpetual look of a man who did not smile easily.

  He watched.

  Across the laboratory, a much smaller figure moved nervously between tables and instruments. Doctor Rechsteiner’s white coat hung loosely from his thin frame, sleeves stained with old grease and newer fluids. His hair frizzed outward in all directions, gray shot through with white, as if he had given up long ago on the idea of taming it. He muttered to himself as he worked, fingers twitching with barely restrained excitement.

  “Doctor Rechsteiner,” Commandant Toman said at last, his voice calm but carrying effortlessly through the space. “Have you completed your work?”

  The scientist flinched, then straightened with visible effort.

  “Of course, Commandant Toman,” Rechsteiner replied, scurrying toward the largest table in the room. It was draped completely in a white sheet, the fabric stretched taut in places where something massive pressed up beneath it. “The Grand Knight has been complete for days. I only need permission to add the final piece. The Control Stone. Everything else has been completed.”

  Toman stepped closer, his boots echoing.

  “Excellent, Doctor,” he said. “Your defection from the Empire has been thoroughly beneficial. Continue to be so productive, and you will reap great rewards in the Hegemony.”

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  He paused, then inclined his head slightly.

  “You may proceed.”

  Rechsteiner’s thin lips pulled into a smile that bordered on reverent.

  “Of course,” he said.

  He grasped the edge of the sheet and pulled it back.

  The head beneath was enormous.

  It was attached to shoulders that looked less like anatomy and more like architecture, layered in thick plates of armored flesh and embedded metal. The skull itself was almost square, its proportions exaggerated and wrong, the musculature around the jaw and neck swollen to grotesque extremes. Even in stillness, it radiated mass, the kind of bulk only seen on the most extreme powerlifters, pushed far beyond natural limits.

  This was a Hegemony Knight.

  But not like the others. It is far bigger, for one.

  Its eyes were closed. Its chest rose and fell slowly, mechanically, as internal systems maintained baseline function. Tubes and conduits fed into ports along the neck and spine, pulsing faintly with power. Segmented armor was fused directly into flesh; seams vanished beneath muscle that had grown around its restraints.

  Rechsteiner stepped away and crossed to a reinforced safe built directly into the wall. He unlocked it with deliberate care, spinning dials and turning keys until the final latch released with a heavy click.

  Inside, cushioned and warded, rested a small, eye-shaped stone.

  It pulsed softly, its rhythm uneven and unsettling, as if it were listening rather than merely existing.

  Rechsteiner lifted it with both hands, reverent.

  “Ah, yes,” he murmured. “My Diamond+ Knight Control Stone. I adapted this from my work on the Imperial Diamond+ Armored Power Core. The DAC, as I liked to call it.”

  He chuckled to himself as he turned back toward the table.

  “I need a good name for this one.”

  “Get on with it, Doctor,” Toman said flatly.

  “Yes, yes. Of course.”

  Rechsteiner climbed onto a small step stool beside the table and leaned over the Knight’s head. With careful fingers, he pried open its right eye.

  The eye itself was gone.

  In its place was a deep, reinforced socket, ringed with metal and scar tissue, cables and crystalline filaments visible within the pit. Rechsteiner hesitated only a moment before pressing the stone forward.

  There was a wet, squelching sound as it slid into place.

  The stone seated itself with a faint click.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then the Knight’s massive body shuddered.

  Fingers twitched. A low, grinding breath escaped its throat as internal systems spooled up. Power surged through the conduits lining its spine, lights flickering from dull red to steady white.

  The Knight’s remaining eye snapped open.

  It glowed with a dark, red light.

  Rechsteiner stepped back, breath caught in his throat.

  The voice that followed did not come from lungs alone.

  “System Integration, Initializing.”