With the land terraformed and sterilized, the next wave of the Genesis Project began. From the west, a colossal procession marched out of the gates of Khaz'Modan. It was the entire Dwarven Builders Guild, led by King Thrain Ironhand himself. Tens of thousands of the world's finest stonemasons, architects, and engineers, their spirits high and their forges carried on massive, golem-pulled carts. They were not a conquered people being forced to work; they were master craftsmen who had been given the ultimate commission: to build a perfect city for a god.
From the east, a second, smaller but no less significant, group arrived: the thousand Imperial architects and engineers sent by Emperor Jircniv. They were the best and brightest of the Bahar-uth Empire, men and women accustomed to building severe, militaristic fortresses. They arrived nervous, expecting to be treated as pawns or potential spies.
The two groups met in the center of the vast, fertile plain where the capital of Aethelgard was to be built. The tension was palpable. The proud, stubborn dwarves eyed the humans with suspicion, and the imperious Imperial architects looked down on the dwarves as mere stonemasons.
It was Queen Lilliana who greeted them, with Rose at her side. She stood before the assembled masters of their craft, her bearing regal and her authority absolute.
"Masters of the mountain and architects of the Empire," she began, her voice carrying across the plain. "You have been brought here to create a masterpiece. You are not rivals. You are two hands of the same craftsman, and you will work in concert to realize the vision of our Sovereign, Lord Kaelus."
She gestured, and a massive, glowing, three-dimensional blueprint of the city appeared in the air between them, a projection from a magical device provided by Kaelus's forge.
The dwarves and humans alike gasped.
The city was unlike anything they had ever seen. It was not a fortress built for defense, but a city built for life. It was a stunning, organic design of sweeping curves and elegant, impossibly tall spires that seemed to touch the clouds. There were no cramped alleys, only wide, tree-lined boulevards. Great canals, extensions of the Argent Stream, flowed through the city, their banks lined with parks and open-air forums. The buildings themselves were a fusion of dwarven structural integrity and a strange, almost elven aesthetic, with balconies overflowing with Flora's ever-blooming flowers and graceful, arched bridges.
"This... this defies the known laws of structural engineering," the lead Imperial architect, a man named Vitruvius, stammered in awe. "These spires... they should collapse under their own weight!"
King Thrain stroked his beard, his own eyes wide with a craftsman's reverence. "The internal supports... they are not stone. They are woven patterns, like a basket. And the material... what is this 'Ironwood' and 'Adamantine-weave concrete'?"
"They are materials my Lord has... created," Rose explained with a serene smile. "Flora has grown the forests of Ironwood, which is as strong as steel but as light as balsa. The dwarves will learn the formula for the new concrete, an infusion of alchemical compounds and powdered adamantine. With these, your designs are no longer bound by the limitations of common stone and steel."
She was giving them a gift beyond measure: the tools to create the impossible. The rivalry between the two groups melted away, replaced by a shared, burning excitement. They were not just building a city. They were pioneering a new age of architecture.
The construction began. The dwarves, with their tireless stamina and innate understanding of the earth, laid the foundations, their runic magic ensuring a stability that could withstand any earthquake. The Imperial architects, with their mastery of complex mathematics and grand designs, oversaw the creation of the elegant superstructures. They worked together, their initial suspicions replaced by a grudging, then a genuine, respect for each other's skills.
And overseeing them all were Kaelus's own agents. The Praetorian Golems acted as tireless heavy-lifters, moving mountains of material with ease. Flora's druids guided the growth of the integrated parks and gardens, weaving nature directly into the city's fabric. Lilliana and Rose managed the logistics with a supernatural efficiency that kept the massive project moving at a breathtaking pace.
The capital city, which was named 'Nexus Prime' in honor of the Great Tomb, began to rise from the plains. It was a sight that defied belief. Spires grew like trees, reaching for the sky. Graceful bridges spun themselves across canals. An immense central plaza, with the obsidian throne at its heart, was paved with marble brought from a quarry that Gravity had literally created overnight.
News of the Genesis Project, and the impossible city rising in the Wastes, became the talk of the world. It was a story far more potent than any rumor the Merchant Prince could have concocted. This was not a story of a dark god hiding in a tomb. This was the story of a creator god building a paradise.
And the people came.
They came in a trickle at first, then a flood. The invitation sent out by The Web had reached the ears of the dispossessed and the brilliant. A master arcanist from the Slane Theocracy, stifled by the rigid dogma of his faith, defected, bringing his knowledge of divine magic with him. A family of legendary elven craftsmen, tired of their people's stagnant isolationism, arrived to work with the new, impossible materials. Human farmers, hearing tales of fields that needed no plowing and produced endless harvests, abandoned their feudal lords and made the long trek to the land of promise.
Aethelgard became a melting pot, a nation of immigrants drawn by the promise of a better life. They were all different, but they were united by a shared sense of awe and a growing, fervent loyalty to the unseen Sovereign who had made it all possible.
From his throne in the Great Tomb, Kaelus watched it all. His plan was working even better than he had anticipated. He had not fired a single shot, had not threatened a single kingdom. He was conquering the world not with his armies, but with an idea. The idea of a better world.
One day, Lilliana stood before him in the throne room, a detailed census report in her hand.
"My Lord," she said, a note of triumph in her voice. "The first district of Nexus Prime is complete. We have over one hundred thousand new citizens. We are projecting a population of half a million within the year. The Baharuth Empire has reported a thirty percent decline in applications to its magical and engineering academies. The Theocracy is suffering a 'brain drain' of its most talented, free-thinking artisans. We are not just building a nation. We are systematically gutting our rivals of their best people."
"Excellent," Kaelus rumbled. "Phase one is complete."
Lilliana looked at him, her curiosity piqued. "Phase one?"
Kaelus gestured to the scrying mirror, which now showed the gleaming, impossible spires of Nexus Prime. "We have built the perfect cage."
"A cage, my Lord?" she asked, confused.
"A beautiful, prosperous, and perfectly safe cage," he confirmed. "Now that the brightest and best of the world are gathered in one place, it is time for phase two."
His silver eyes glowed with a new, chilling intensity.
"It is time to give them a reason to need my protection. It is time to introduce a new 'error' into the world. An error so great, so terrifying, that every man, woman, and child in Aethelgard will get on their knees and thank the heavens that they live under the shield of the Silent Sovereign."
He had built his paradise. Now, he was going to create a dragon to put at its gates.