The synthesis went on for an hour, which felt like forever to Neo

Eventually, the white light receded, leaving behind a chamber that felt less like a laboratory and more like a tomb forged in a furnace.

The air smelled fresh scent of evolution.

​Neo stood in the center of the crater, his chest heaving. His skin no longer had a simple metallic sheen; it pulsed with dark, obsidian-like veins that occasionally flickered like living magma.

He felt a cold relentless vitality through his limbs as the [Undead Regeneration] had woven itself into his very marrow.

He quickly looked at the results.

​Synthesis Results:

​Synthesis #1: [ Automata 707 (Type -9) + Automata - 7 (Type -9) = Hyper Battle Machina (Elena)

​[ Power Rank: Type-8 (Mid) ]

New Abilities:

​Chrono-Phasing: Allows her to flicker out of existence for 0.5 seconds, dodging physical and energy attacks with 100% efficiency.

​Plasma-Core Overload: Channels her internal battery into her blades, increasing cutting power by 300% at the cost of temporary cooling downtime.

​Logical Analysis Engine: Predicts enemy movement patterns in real-time, granting a massive boost to evasion and parrying.

​Synthesis #2: [ Automata 708 (Type -9) + Undead Human (Type -9)] = Hyper Undead (Dr. Clark)

​[ Power Rank: Type-8 (Mid) ]

New Abilities:

​Necro-Surgical Repair: Can "stitch" the wounds of other undead or mechanical units using shadow-thread, restoring their durability mid-combat.

​Data-Ghost Infection: Can project his consciousness into nearby low-level electronic systems to disable or hijack them.

​Toxic Miasma: Emits a foul, corrosive gas from his coat that weakens the physical defense of living enemies.

​Synthesis #3 & #4 [ Undead Human x2 (Type 9)+ Mechanical Hunter (Dog -Type 8)] : Abyssal Hounds x2

​[ Powr Rank: Type-8 (Peak) ]

​Shadow Pounce: The ability to travel through shadows within a 20-meter radius to ambush targets.

​Soul Bite: Their jaws bypass physical armor to deal direct damage to the target’s spiritual or mental stability.

​Pack Link: They share a sensory network; what one hound sees, the other and Neo knows instantly.

​Synthesis #5: [Blazing Eragon (Type 8) + Undead Humans x3 (Type 9) ] = Hellfire Eragon (Neo)

​[ Power Rank: Type-8 ( Peak) ]

New Skills:

​Undead Regeneration (E): Minor and moderate wounds close automatically within seconds. Even lost limbs can be reattached if held in place.

​Obsidian Skin (E) : His defense is reinforced by volcanic minerals, making him nearly immune to heat-based attacks and highly resistant to piercing.

​Hellfire Burst (E): He can ignite his Cosmic Force into black-crimson flames that burn through both physical matter and magical barriers.

[ Physical stats Increased: ~10% ]

Seeing the result, Neo exhaled in relief. The synthesis could have gone worse, but fortunately he maintained control to the very end.

And in this way, he wiped the parasites without lifting a hand.

​

​Elena, now the Hyper Battle Machina, rose from the floor. Her movements were no longer jerky or distorted. She looked at her new, lethal hands, then up at Neo.

The manic "parasite" expression was gone, replaced by a terrifyingly calm clarity.

​"The interference... it’s gone.The reset worked, Neo. I am... free." she whispered looking at Neo.

​Behind her, Hyper Undead Clark crawled out of the wreckage.

This time, he didn’t scream or cackle.

Thud.

He simply knelt, his shadow stretching across the floor to touch Neo’s feet. He was no longer a mad scientist; he was a silent architect of the dead, bound to the soul of the one who remade him.

"Your magnificence is as bright as the stars, lord. I am ready to serve you wholeheartedly."

The two Undead Hounds, far taller and broader than Neo, also bowed.

Neo smiled, satisfied. He clenched his fist, feeling the Hellfire dancing beneath his knuckles.

"Elena, Clark, stand up!"

They did, and then Elena asked, "What’s the next plan Neo?"

"We need to cross those 1,200 miles as soon as possible," Neo stated. "Does anyone have a plan?"

​Dr. Clark raised his hand. "My Lord, may I suggest something?"

​"You don’t need permission to speak. Say it."

​Dr. Clark leaned in, suggesting in a careful whisper, "Lord, why don’t we seize control of the ’Ghost’? I am certain that after some repairs, this Titan-class ship can be made functional again."

​Neo turned the plan over in his mind, and he liked it—very much. After all, if he could succeed, he would have no trouble traveling back to Earth.

​"Alright. Lead the way, Clark."

​Dr. Clark’s eyes flashed with excitement. "Ghost, we are coming for you."

-

-

​Meanwhile, hundreds of light-years away on a planet filled with mechs and obsidian towers, a massive shadow suddenly loomed over the world.

​Buzz!

​A gargantuan white spaceship, spanning tens of miles, descended from the atmosphere.

When it landed, the vibration was felt across every continent. Soon, several figures emerged down the ship’s levitating staircase, following a man holding a crimson ceremonial staff.

​The crimson-haired priest, with eyes as deep as if they had seen heaven itself, let his gaze fall upon a young boy wearing golden robes.

As soon as those deep eyes met the young, unfathomable ones of the boy, the priest’s entire frame began to tremble with exhilaration.

​"Young Emperor, you have called for me? How have you been?" he asked in a gentle tone.

​The young boy, who appeared to be an innocent seven-year-old, looked incredibly cold and mature. His face twisted into an expression of disgust. He pointed a single finger toward the priest; the force behind it felt as though a whole mountain had smashed into the man’s chest.

​The priest’s face contorted with pain and confusion.

​BANG!

​He was flung away like a ragdoll.

When he finally pulled himself out of the rubble, he coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Then, the little boy’s voice rang out, cold and absolute.

​"Priest Salvatore, you are weak!"

​Salvatore lowered his head in shame. "I am but a humble servant. How can I be compared to Your Majesty, Damiano, the Great Emperor of the Oslo?"

​The young Emperor, Damiano Oslo (Damian, for short) let out a snort that rang like thunder:

​"Hmph. Not just weak, you are also useless. The Tyrant of the prophecy has already eliminated two of the precious ’hairs’ I had so carefully placed. And you... you said everything would go fine and the future would change. So why? Why has everything gone wrong?"

​Priest Salvatore felt cold sweat run down his spine. He also felt a flicker of indignation.

How was this my fault when you couldn’t even plant a spy properly?

Of course, he didn’t dare say that aloud.

Instead, he crawled toward the boy’s feet.

​"I... I am not sure why it has gone wrong, Your Majesty. Should I perform a divination once again?" He trembled as he suggested it; the last time he had performed the rite, it had cost him half of his lifespan. Doing it again would surely kill him.

​"No need," Young Emperor Damian spoke coldly. "From what I have learned, his Supreme Talent is Necromancy. Take some Exorcists with you and go to Sol-III immediately."

​"Go there? But Your Majesty, that sector is already under power struggle from three Dominators," Salvatore said fearfully.

"I will deal with them when needed. You just focus on your task."

​Damian then waved his hand, and the Titan-class spaceship hummed in response.

​"As you wish..." Salvatore left, his heart filled with dread.