BIOLOGICAL SUPERCOMPUTER SYSTEM

Chapter 647 To each a Weapon (1)

Erik led the way out of the building, his clones falling into step behind him. “Our next stop is a shop I found a while back. Matthias’s blades”

Noah, ever curious, looked at Erik with wide, eager eyes. “Are we going to make some weapons, Master?” He asked, the anticipation clear in his voice and mirrored in the way he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah, we’re going to get you all custom weapons,” Erik replied, a hint of excitement creeping into his voice.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his eyes sparkled with enthusiasm.

As they walked through the city, the clones couldn’t help but marvel at the towering structures surrounding them.

Skyscrapers stretched towards the sky like glass and steel giants, while holographic billboards flashed with vibrant colors, advertising everything from the latest tech to exotic vacations.

The city was a bustling hub of activity, filled with people from all walks of life, each absorbed in their world yet collectively contributing to the city’s vibrant tapestry.

For the clones, this was a revelation. They had Erik’s memories, of course, but seeing the city firsthand was a unique experience altogether.

The sheer scale of it, the complexity, and the diversity were awe-inspiring. Noah summed it up best when he said, “Remembering the outside is one thing, but seeing it is something else entirely. Everything is so… big.”

Erik couldn’t help but smile at Noah’s innocent remark. “Yes, the world is big,” he agreed, his eyes crinkling at the edges with genuine warmth.

After navigating through the maze of streets and alleys, they finally arrived at their destination: Matthias’ Blades.

The shop was modest but exuded an air of quality and craftsmanship. The sign hanging above the door was carved from wood and meticulously painted.

As they stepped into the shop, the distinct scent of cold metal and rich oil immediately filled their nostrils.

The air was heavy with it, intertwining with the faint smell of burnt wood and lingering traces of raw materials.

In the background, the rhythmic clanging of a hammer against metal echoed, punctuated by the occasional hiss of steam or whirr of machinery.

Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with tools of every shape and size, each with a specific purpose in the creation process.

Behind a counter stood Matthias, a middle-aged man with a rugged face and calloused hands. His eyes lit up when he saw Erik.

“Ah, Mr. Kay! Good to see you again,” the shopkeeper greeted, his face lighting up in a warm, welcoming smile. His eyes twinkled with recognition and genuine glee. “What brings you here today?”

Erik, returning the smile with an appreciative nod, gestured to the men standing behind him.

“Matthias,” he began, his voice steady and filled with respect. His eyes held a glint of anticipation as he introduced his team.

“These are my associates.” He swept his arm in a broad gesture, encompassing his group. “They need custom weapons, and I couldn’t think of a better place to come.”

His words held a note of sincerity, his expression earnest. He trusted Matthias, and the thought of equipping his team with top-notch weapons stirred a sense of excitement within him. He watched the man’s reaction closely, hoping the man would accept the task.

Matthias looked over at the group, sizing them up, before nodding approvingly. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. My son is in the back.”

“I must have been lucky then,” Erik said.

“Indeed, you were.”

Erik moved deeper into the shop, towards the forge where Matthias’ son worked.

As they stepped into the forge, the intense heat from the furnace washed over them like an invisible wave. It was a palpable force, radiating outwards and filling every corner of the room. The air shimmered with it, becoming a living entity that danced and flickered in the dim light.

The heat was not just a physical sensation; it was an embodiment of the forge’s relentless energy and purpose. It clung to their clothes, seeped into their skin, and made sweat beads on their foreheads almost instantly.

The furnace itself roared like a mighty beast, its fiery maw glowing with an intense light that painted everything in hues of orange and red.

Sparks flew from it occasionally, like tiny stars birthed from its fiery heart. The walls of the forge seemed to pulsate with the furnace’s rhythm.

Fabian, Matthias’ son, and the craftsman behind the blades looked up from his workbench. His eyes met Erik’s, and a smile spread across his face.

“Ah, Mr. Kay, welcome back,” the blacksmith greeted, his eyes lighting up with recognition and a warm smile spreading across his face. “What can I do for you today?”

“Hello, Fabian,” he responded, his tone carrying a note of respect. He paused a moment, his gaze steady on Fabian, subtly building suspense.

“I’m here for something special today. I need seven custom weapons made,” he announced.

Erik watched Fabian’s reaction closely, eager to see the craftsman rise to the challenge. His mind was already buzzing with potential designs and specifications for each weapon, excitement stirring within him at the prospect of equipping his team with uniquely crafted armaments.

Fabian’s eyebrows shot up, clearly intrigued by the size of the order. “Seven, you say? That’s quite a number. May I ask who they’re for?”

Erik gestured toward the door where his clones were. “They’re for my men. They’re in the other room right now.”

Fabian nodded, setting down the tool he was holding and wiping his hands on a rag. “Very well, Mr. Kay. Making custom weapons for seven individuals is a significant undertaking, but you’ve come to the right place. I guess they are mercenaries, am I right?”

Erik nodded affirmatively, his gaze steady on Fabian. “Yes, they work with me and are part of a special team,” he confirmed, his voice carrying a note of pride.

He glanced back at his team, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it was hidden by his mask. His hand made a sweeping gesture towards them, subtly emphasizing their importance.

“So, I would like something good,” Erik continued, his gaze returning to Fabian. His expression was serious and composed. His eyes held a firm resolve, reflecting the importance he placed on the quality of the weapons.

“But following their preferences.” He added, his voice steady and firm. He gestured subtly to his team, a silent acknowledgment of their individuality and unique combat styles. His brows furrowed slightly in thought, contemplating the diverse needs and preferences each of them had.

“Can you do it?” he asked. He held Fabian’s gaze, silently urging the craftsman to accept the challenge.

Fabian’s face broke into a wide grin, his eyes twinkling with a craftsman’s pride. “You know me, Mr. Kay,” he responded, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “I love a good challenge. Tailoring each weapon to its wielder is what I do best.” .𝘤𝘰

Erik, maintaining his serious and composed demeanor, nodded in satisfaction. His eyes reflected a quiet confidence, his expression unchanging but his relief clear.

“Excellent,” he said, his voice steady and filled with appreciation. He raised a hand and clapped Fabian lightly on the shoulder, a gesture of both gratitude and camaraderie. “I knew I could count on you, Fabian.”

Inwardly, Erik felt a surge of relief and anticipation. He had trusted Fabian would accept the challenge, but hearing the confirmation brought a sense of certainty and calm. His mind churned with ideas and plans, eager to see the final products of Fabian’s craftsmanship.

***

While Erik was in the workshop discussing the details of their custom weapons with Fabian, Noah and the other clones, found themselves engrossed in the array of weaponry displayed throughout the shop.

Swords with intricate hilts lay beside bows of fine craftsmanship, each piece a testament to the skill and artistry that went into its creation.

Noah was particularly captivated by a sword with a unique design, its blade shimmering in the soft light of the shop. As he examined it, Matthias approached him with a knowing smile.

“That’s one of our finest pieces,” Matthias began, “Forged from Terphine steel and balanced to perfection. The hilt is wrapped in genuine Thaid’s leather for a comfortable grip. It’s a weapon made for a true warrior.”

Noah looked up, meeting Matthias’ eyes. “It’s a magnificent sword.”

Just then, Erik and Fabian emerged from the workshop, their faces reflecting a successful negotiation. Erik glanced at his clones, who were enamored by the surrounding weapons.

“Ok, guys,” Erik announced, “You need to talk to the man here, Fabian, about what you would like to use as weapons. He’ll be crafting them for you.”

Fabian stepped forward, extending his hand in greeting. “It is a pleasure to meet you all. I’ve heard you’re Mr. Jay’s men, and that’s recommendation enough for me. Let’s talk about what you’re looking for in a weapon.”

The clones stood up, each offering a firm handshake and a nod of acknowledgment. “Pleased to meet you,” Noah said, speaking for the group. “We’re looking forward to working with you.”

Erik, however, had one more detail to add. He turned to Fabian, “Don’t forget to make the hilt with the design I told you about earlier. It must come out exactly like that.”

Fabian nodded, locking eyes with Erik. “Of course, Mr. Kay. The design will be as you specified, down to the last detail. You have my word.”

Erik felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him. He had set the wheels in motion, not just for the creation of custom weapons, but for the forging of identities.

As he looked at his clones—Noah, Ari, Yori, Nick, Damon, Swaran, and Luke—and then at Fabian and Matthias, he knew he was leaving this task in capable hands.

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