Wearing protective goggles, Connors carefully used metal tweezers to pick up a tiny crystal powder, no larger than a needle tip.
Under the bright light, the fine powder shimmered with a shifting, iridescent glow.
He squinted and examined it repeatedly for a long time before finally turning to Zaire, who stood nearby, as well as Jessica, who was staring wide-eyed. His tone was firm as he spoke:
"I'm not an expert in materials science, but I can guarantee with my knowledge that this is not something modern technology can create—especially considering its ability to generate illusions."
"Zaire, you said this was a trophy taken from a minotaur-like creature? I'll take some time to research relevant myths and ancient legends to see if I can find any clues."
"That would be a great help, Professor."
Zaire, arms crossed, blinked. After a brief moment of contemplation, he spoke softly:
"Fortunately, this didn't cause a bigger incident. I don't know what exactly happened to this substance, but it serves as a warning to me."
"We need to start establishing protocols. In the future, any unknown trophies from the battlefield must not be taken carelessly. Even if we do retrieve them, they must go through rigorous testing procedures."
"Understood, boss!"
Before Connors could respond, Jessica, brimming with excitement, eagerly raised her hand.
"If you have so much energy, double your training!"
Zaire, expressionless, shot Jessica a glare before turning back to Connors and asking:
"By the way, Professor, do you know any other scientists? I've realized that our team's scientific knowledge and research foundation are quite weak. As long as they're not completely insane, I can provide funding and equipment."
Hearing Zaire's request, Connors' face showed a hint of embarrassment. He gently put down the metal tweezers and raised his only arm to smooth his increasingly thinning, greasy blond hair.
"Zaire, I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm just a high school biology teacher… My old classmates either changed careers or weren't as skilled as I am."
Zaire remained expressionless, giving a slight nod before announcing the end of the meeting.
Connors resumed directing Iron Man David in building the laboratory.
Jessica was sent off for physical training.
Sitting alone at the metal round table, Zaire blinked his cyan wolf-like eyes.
After hesitating for a moment, he reached out and pinched a small amount of crystal powder.
Zaire opened the simulator interface and scanned the powder in his hand, hoping to determine its origins.
[Unknown Relic: Ashes of an Ancient Remnant]
Description: A precious artifact forged from the ashes of an unknown ancient remnant, consecrated over centuries through countless human sacrifices.
The material's solid form was obliterated by an overwhelming force, reducing it to dust, yet it still retains a harmless passive ability.
Note: A sufficient quantity of this powder allows the user to create incredibly realistic illusions, but it has no other use.
Additional Note: Please seek out other hazardous materials. Ashes are worthless to the simulator.
"Huh?"
Zaire instinctively widened his cyan wolf-like eyes.
He had only intended to test it, not expecting the simulator to actually provide useful information.
Perhaps in the future, the simulator could also function as an identification tool?
Zaire blinked before closing the simulator interface.
He grabbed more of the crystal powder.
As his thoughts turned in his mind, a sudden transformation took place—his gray hair, sharp fingertips, and rough, knuckle-thick hands slowly returned to their normal state.
Even his cyan wolf-like eyes completely reverted to their original color.
Smiling faintly, Zaire gazed at his blurred reflection on the metal table.
He carefully examined his unchanged yet seemingly normal hand, which had only been visually altered.
After a moment of silence, he muttered to himself:
"Ah… I did worry that undergoing more Astartes modifications would make me completely disconnected from human society. Now, at least, that concern is gone."
With a smirk, Zaire casually tossed aside the crystal powder, allowing his body to revert to his gray-haired, wolf-eyed form.
Meanwhile, in the base's main hall, the Terminator power armor was being dismantled by David.
Layer by layer, its thick ceramic-steel plating was carefully removed, exposing the complex electronic muscle fibers and an intricate network of unknown metal tubing beneath.
As the process advanced, David's movements slowed considerably.
Each time it removed an electronic muscle fiber, it paused to analyze and reconsider its approach.
The cautiousness of its actions made it seem as if it were disarming a ticking time bomb rather than dismantling power armor.
At that moment, Zaire remained seated at the metal round table, occasionally glancing at the tireless Iron Man.
Leisurely, he took a few sips of chilled Tygus beast milk before returning to the thick book in his hands.
Zaire wasn't merely overseeing the work—he was attempting to learn a new language.
Among the salvaged debris, he had found several "Imperial Defense Manuals" and similar texts.
Wanting a more systematic understanding of how to construct an Imperial Guard, he had to rekindle his learning mindset.
With Iron Man David's translated texts as reference, he diligently studied the unfamiliar language.
Snap!
Suddenly, a faint crackling sound accompanied by a spark of electricity broke the silence.
One of the yet-to-be-removed electronic muscle fibers in the Terminator suit had suffered some unexpected damage.
Zaire instinctively looked up.
Fixing his gaze on David's massive frame, he softly advised:
"David, I think you need a break…"
"My lord… this was merely a minor miscalculation."
Despite his words, David still set down the damaged electronic fiber and walked over to the metal table.
"My lord, something is odd. I followed the exact same dismantling procedure and timing as before, yet there were unforeseen errors… I originally thought this Terminator suit lacked a machine spirit, but now I'm not so sure."
"I have an old trick… According to rituals, we could try lighting incense and offering a prayer."
Zaire furrowed his brows and set his book aside.
He rubbed the bridge of his nose with two sharp fingertips.
"Whether or not it works, only heaven knows…"
Hearing this, David slightly tilted his metallic head.
The blue glow in its eyes flickered momentarily, and its mechanical voice carried a hint of helplessness:
"My lord, I believe we need the guidance of a specialist… Even a low-ranking adept from the Mechanicus would suffice."
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