The Walking Forge (The Walking Dead-Celestial Forge SI)

by Ghost Angel5595

Waking up in an apocalyptic world full of zombies was not what the person known as Christian thought would happen to him after a drunken binge. Trapped in this new world, he could only accept his bad luck and seek to survive at any cost, luck for which he obtained a system that allowed him to learn and create technological wonders.

8. Chapter 7 Meeting People Part 3

He was back, this time in a much shorter period and with something longer. With his schedule having cleared significantly, he was able to write relatively well. He hoped everyone would enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the material used in this fanfic.

Sitting on the roof of the Smith house, Christian gazed at the sunrise. The sun was rising in the distance, about 149.6 million kilometers, or 93 million miles, away, if his calculations were correct. He let out a relaxed sigh as he brought a cup of hot coffee to his lips. The warmth flowed down his throat, offering a sensation that, although familiar, felt strange for someone like him.

His cybernetic eyes, known as Argos, automatically adjusted, capturing every detail kilometer away. They analyzed the density of the air, the ambient temperature, and possible nearby threats. However, there was nothing out of the ordinary, just an ordinary sunrise, though Christian could no longer perceive things with the same simplicity as before.

Around him, his Scarabs, small insectoid machines, moved back and forth without apparent purpose. To an inexperienced eye, they seemed to wander aimlessly, but the reality was different. The Scarabs patrolled randomly, monitoring the perimeter he had established, ready to detect and neutralize any intruder that escaped their sensors, though he doubted the existence of anything like that in this world.

When Christian spoke of the "perimeter," he referred to a massive wall of Living Metal that he had erected. Standing 30 meters tall and covering an area of 80 square meters, the wall surrounded the Smith house and a considerable portion of the surrounding land, especially the sides and the back. The front, on the other hand, had only a small section of the barrier so as not to obstruct the main road. In that section stood the only vehicle door.

Constructing a fortification of such magnitude was no mere whim, but a necessity. The vast space within had to be sufficient for various tasks, such as creating a laboratory where Christian could conduct experiments and develop new technologies. It would also serve as an improvised clinic to attend to people like Lucille and Negan. The reason he wanted to use his Augmentation Room for this purpose was simply that he was unsure how they would react to it. Dealing with an amnesiac cyborg who shared the face of someone familiar was one thing; confronting a pocket dimension filled with advanced technology was entirely different.

Christian sighed again, contemplating everything he had built and what still remained to be done as the sun continued its ascent, illuminating the vast horizon before him.

An energy generator, which Christian had named the Ener Generator, along with a modified matter-energy converter known as the Matner Converter, served as the pillars of his technological infrastructure. Both devices were designed to ensure that he never had to worry about resource scarcity.

The Ener Generator, or more accurately, the Ener Generator model 2.0, was, as its name indicated, an energy generator. It operated through a variety of mechanisms, such as the absorption of ambient radiation in the form of gamma or electromagnetic radiation, or the decomposition of organic and inorganic matter into its basic components—namely, atoms. These atoms were then used in nuclear fusion and fission processes, generating enormous amounts of energy. Additionally, the matter-energy converter of the generator, due to its conversion capabilities, allowed any waste to be reused in a closed cycle. The generator was also equipped with nanomachines powered by the generated energy, which took care of repairing any damage the device might suffer.

The Ener Generator resembled a black cylinder with green stripes coursing along its surface, which appeared to pulse with energy. Its dimensions were imposing, standing 30 meters tall and 20 meters in circumference. On its surface were a series of buttons with various functions, such as turning the device on and off, and a hatch where any material intended for decomposition or conversion into atoms or energy could be inserted. This version of the generator was a significant upgrade from the one Christian had once carried within his body, before replacing it with this more powerful and efficient version.

On the other hand, the Matner Converter allowed for the transformation of any type of matter into energy and vice versa. This meant that if he ever needed a specific material, whether organic or inorganic, he could simply convert it from whatever he had on hand. Thus, he optimized resources to the maximum, eliminating the need for external supplies, except in cases of certain basic elements, such as the blueprints or data for what he wished to create. The Matner Converter had a shape similar to that of a large black oven with yellow lines, measuring 20 meters long, 5 meters high, and 4 meters deep.

Together, the Ener Generator and the Matner Converter formed a self-sufficient network that ensured the sustainability of all of Christian's systems. Among these systems were his laboratory, the Smith house (though its inhabitants were still unaware), and the complex defense system he had implemented at the site.

The defense system encompassed a wide variety of devices. From an energy field that covered the entire property to hidden energy turrets along the wall, a series of sensors, radars, and cameras that recorded everything happening 24/7, and non-lethal proximity mines designed to only sever a limb in the worst-case scenario. Everything was meticulously planned to ensure the security and self-sufficiency of his territory, leaving little to nothing to chance.

Upon hearing all this, one might think it was logical to need so much space to manage all the technology and advanced devices that Christian had implemented. However, curiously enough, the real reason behind such a need for space was the Canoptek Spyder, which currently rested on the ground. This gigantic automaton remained completely motionless, emitting small metallic sounds as its systems entered standby mode. It had only been an hour since it had entered this state, having produced the largest number of Scarabs it had ever created. Those Scarabs, now enhanced compared to their original versions, served as silent guards and mechanics, patrolling and maintaining the site in perfect condition.

Christian had managed to bring the Canoptek Spyder from the roof, where he had found it, to its current location without much difficulty. Although the process was technically complex, for someone with his technological capability, it boiled down to a few basic steps. First, he built a communication antenna advanced enough to interact with the signals of his own technology. Then, he expanded the connection range, which was already considerably wide, allowing the signal to reach the Spyder. With everything in place, he sent the precise coordinates of the site to the colossal robot.

The entire process, from constructing the antenna to the arrival of the Spyder, took just two hours. A surprisingly short time considering the magnitude of the task and the distance the Spyder had to travel. But what was most impressive was how Christian managed everything without drawing anyone's attention. For obvious reasons, he had given an additional order to the Spyder: to ascend to the troposphere during its journey. Thus, the enormous robot could travel undetected, ensuring its presence remained a secret, or so Christian hoped.

He didn't want anyone—absolutely anyone—to know about the Spyder's existence before the time was right. He would only reveal its presence when everything was in place: a safe location to settle, the main group on his side, and most importantly, when he had built an army of robots that responded solely to his will. If all went according to plan, those robots would resemble one of his favorite fictional designs, directly inspired by the video game Nier Automata…2P.

His chocolate-infused robotphile (GLORY TO ROBUSSY) thoughts were quickly interrupted when the radar began to pick up movement inside the Smith house. Immediately, a playful smile formed on his face.

"So, they're awake," he murmured with satisfaction, his voice low but filled with an almost childlike excitement, eagerly anticipating what would come next.

Watching the radar projected on his HUD, Christian tracked the movement of one of the red dots that stood out on his detailed 3D map of the site, which he had created upon arriving at the house. The dot rose from the bed, and he quickly identified it as Negan. Moving through the house with a predictable routine, he saw him head toward the bathroom. It only took a few seconds for Negan to come back out, and it didn't require much imagination to guess what he had been doing.

Next, Negan began to move methodically. First, he went toward a piece of furniture, likely in search of cutlery or utensils, and then approached a box, searching for something specific. Finally, Christian watched as he made his way to the dining room, capturing every little movement with the surgical precision of his sophisticated sensors.

In front of the house, Christian took a last sip of his coffee, savoring the flavor for a brief moment before taking a completely carefree action. He tossed the cup behind him with the same calmness he had displayed while descending from the roof. Upon hitting the ground, the cup shattered into a thousand pieces, spilling coffee in the process.

Without paying much attention, the Scarabs—efficient and silent—sprang into action. Like a perfectly choreographed routine, they pounced on the fragments of the cup and the remnants of the coffee. They swiftly decomposed and consumed the waste, transforming it into reusable energy. The entire process was quiet, almost imperceptible, as the Scarabs cleaned up the mess.

For Christian, this was the most normal thing in the world. He was entirely oblivious to the broken cup and the spilled coffee, focusing instead on something else. He began to walk toward the entrance of the house, but before entering, he stopped next to one of his latest creations, which rested on a metal table by the stairs.

He picked up the machine he had named the Food Fabricator and observed it with satisfaction. At first glance, the device resembled a futuristic microwave, albeit slightly larger. It measured approximately 62 cm long, 35 cm high, and 40 cm deep. Its design was compact and efficient, enveloped in a sleek black color that highlighted the robust material from which it was made. Blue stripes ran along its surface, giving it a modern and aesthetic touch. On the front, a bulletproof glass door allowed a glimpse inside, while to the right, a screen and several buttons with detailed inscriptions made it clear that this "microwave" was much more than it appeared at first glance.

The Food Fabricator, as its name suggested, could produce any food item registered in its database. Thanks to the combination of the Generator Ener and the Converter Matner, there were no limits to the complexity or rarity of the recipes. As long as there was available matter or energy, Christian could ensure that food would never be lacking. Additionally, the device had the capacity to heat or cool whatever was necessary according to the user's preferences, making its utility almost infinite within the context of his self-sufficient technological infrastructure.

With a satisfied smile on his face, Christian loaded the appliance onto his left shoulder and headed toward the house, making his way to the basement. As he advanced, he noticed on his radar that one of the red dots, representing human presences inside the house, began to ascend the stairs. The other dot, which remained motionless at the dining room table, indicated that Lucille was already awake and that Negan was likely going upstairs to either wake her or, more probably, to inform her that breakfast was ready.

His assumption was confirmed when, upon reaching the basement door, he saw the dot stop right in front of it. The door opened with a slight hesitation, as if the person on the other side had paused for a moment, uncertain of what they might find. Christian observed attentively the contrast between the Negan who led the Saviors and the Negan who lived with Lucille. It was... fascinating how a person could change so much due to trauma and the desperation of having nothing to lose. However, if things went as he hoped, such a fate wouldn't be necessary for Negan.

With curiosity, Christian watched as Negan appeared, still in his pajamas, peeking through the door. He wore blue shorts, a white T-shirt, and socks. Their gazes crossed briefly, and Christian, unable to help himself, broke into a playful smile.

"Hello, Negan," he greeted, raising a hand cheerfully. "Good morning."

Negan looked at him for a few seconds, still somewhat bleary-eyed from sleep, before letting out a long yawn. He scratched the back of his head, clearly still half-asleep.

"Good morning, Chris…" Negan murmured, blinking as he tried to clear his mind. His gaze landed on the device Christian carried on his shoulder. "And what's that?"

"Oh, one of my latest creations!" Christian replied, almost bouncing with excitement; his enthusiasm was unmistakable.

Negan, with the patience of someone who had just woken up, took a quick look at the device before sighing tiredly. "Alright… come on, breakfast is ready," he said finally, turning around and beginning to head down the stairs at a leisurely pace.

Christian followed Negan without hesitation, descending the stairs until they reached the dining room. Upon opening the door, his gaze immediately settled on Lucille, who sat drowsily in one of the chairs at the table. She wore a light robe, and beneath it, a pink nightgown that reminded Christian of a similar one his mother used to wear in his previous life. The memory was brief, but it left him with a strange feeling.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the bowl of soup in front of Lucille. He understood the logic: in difficult times, rationing food was crucial for survival. However, concern flooded him as he considered the unhealthiness of such a limited diet in the long run. Deficiencies in vitamins and minerals could weaken Lucille even more, something that unexpectedly irritated him, though he couldn't decipher why.

Lucille lifted her gaze and offered him a weak smile that resembled more of a plea. Christian felt a knot form in his stomach at the sight of her condition.

"Good morning… Chris," Lucille greeted him with her soft, fragile voice. "Uh… what is that?" she added, pointing at the machine on his shoulder.

Negan also noticed the device as he approached the table. Even after sitting down, he couldn't take his eyes off the apparatus.

"Oh, it's my latest creation," Christian responded exuberantly, unable to hide his excitement. "I call it the Food Fabricator."

Negan and Lucille exchanged glances, both raising an eyebrow. Their expressions showed a mix of curiosity and slight disbelief, as if they already anticipated some surprise or madness from Christian.

"It's nice, but… what does it do?" Negan asked with a hint of caution, clearly expecting Christian to unveil one of his unexpected revelations.

Christian grinned mischievously, savoring the moment. Without saying another word, he stepped closer to the table and placed the Food Fabricator on it. The weight of the device caused a soft creak in the wood, something Christian mentally noted as a reminder to add anti-gravity technology in future versions. Despite this minor inconvenience, the machine remained stable.

"Oh, see for yourselves," he said with a mysterious smile.

Christian picked up the bowl that was in front of him, which he assumed was his, and pressed the "Activate" button on the front of the apparatus. The blue lines on the fabricator began to glow softly, illuminating as if the device was coming to life. Then, he pressed the "Open" button, causing the armored glass door to slide outward with a gentle click.

"Just wait and see what it can do," he said with a tone charged with anticipation.

Negan's and Lucille's eyes remained fixed on the machine, clearly intrigued by what was about to unfold.

Christian placed the bowl inside the machine without hesitation, closed the door, and pressed a button labeled "Analyze." The machine responded with an almost imperceptible hum, and a small screen on the front displayed a meter that quickly filled up, going from 1 to 100 in a matter of seconds. Throughout the entire process, neither Negan nor Lucille made the slightest movement, both too astonished to eat or even interrupt. The scene held them completely captivated.

Once the analysis was complete, Christian continued seamlessly. He pressed the button that read "Heat," followed by several numbers on the machine's numeric keypad. Finally, he tapped the button that said "Start." The apparatus emitted its characteristic hum again, and a countdown of ten seconds appeared on the screen.

When the timer reached zero, the machine emitted a soft beep, indicating that the process was complete. Filled with satisfaction, Christian pressed the "Open" button while Negan's and Lucille's eyes followed each of his movements intently.

The door opened, revealing the bowl inside, the contents of which, a chicken soup, were now hot.

"Voilà, hot food," Christian said with a smile as he took the bowl and placed it on the table.

Lucille and Negan said nothing; they simply stared at the bowl for several seconds. Negan reached out and placed his hand on top of it.

"It's hot," he remarked simply, though a hint of surprise tinged his voice. His gaze shifted to Christian. "So, you created a portable microwave?"

Christian, aware that the machine lacked a plug yet had still managed to heat the food, understood why Negan thought that. However, it didn't mean he wasn't annoyed.

"No," he huffed playfully, crossing his arms. "It's much more than that."

He pressed the buttons again, this time selecting the "Select" option. The screen changed to display an image of a bowl with the words "chicken soup" above it. After that, he pressed the "Start" button, and the machine began to hum again.

Unlike previous times, this time the time was measured in minutes instead of seconds—one minute, to be exact. A full minute during which the machine buzzed, accompanied by soft sounds of something being created inside.

When the timer reached zero again, the apparatus emitted another soft beep. Christian, filled with a mix of pride and anticipation, pressed the "Open" button. Negan and Lucille, not taking their eyes off him, remained fascinated by every movement Christian made.

The door opened, revealing a new bowl inside the machine, identical to the previous one, filled with hot chicken soup. Steam slowly rose from the surface of the broth.

"Freshly created chicken soup," Christian presented the bowl to the couple with a smile.

Lucille and Negan exchanged glances, surprised. Negan, who seemed the most affected by the moment—at least judging by his expression and his more active state—slowly moved his hand over the newly created bowl, feeling the warmth emanating from the soup. An expression of wonder and, for the first time in a long while, relief reflected on his face. Without saying anything, he looked back at Christian, his eyes making it clear that he was impressed beyond words.

"Did you really… create it out of nothing?" Negan finally asked, still processing what he had witnessed.

Christian nodded with a proud smile.

"Well, technically, yes," he replied casually, though the sparkle in his eyes revealed how much he enjoyed the moment. His gaze focused on both of them. "As I mentioned, I have a set of 'knowledge' in my head, and that knowledge includes the technologies that currently compose my being, like the matter-energy converter you've already seen, Negan."

Negan nodded slowly, still trying to process what Christian was telling him. His eyes drifted to the machine and then back to Christian, as if searching for a way to understand its workings.

"Yeah… I remember," he said in a simple and somewhat tired voice. "You didn't mention you could make food."

"Well, food is technically matter," Christian shrugged. "So, as I told you, as long as I have the data about it and its composition, and the energy to make it, creating it is just a matter of time."

"I see," Negan replied, his voice sounding a bit dazed.

What seemed like an awkward silence was about to begin; however, it was quickly interrupted by Lucille's gentle voice.

"So, can you make coffee?" Lucille asked calmly, a playful smile marking her face.

"Yes," Christian replied cheerfully. He pressed the buttons on the machine again and began preparing coffee. Once it was finished, he poured the drink into a typical coffee mug, took it out of the machine, and handed it to Lucille. She quickly and without hesitation took several sips of the drink.

"It's… perfect," Lucille said after a few sips, a genuine smile on her face. The coffee brought her visible relief, perhaps more psychological than physical, but at that moment, any small comfort was significant.

Christian crossed his arms, feeling a playful joy.

"I'm glad you like it," he replied, experiencing a sense of accomplishment as he watched how his invention had brought happiness to someone.

Negan, though still seemingly processing what he was witnessing, let out a soft laugh, a mix of relief and humor.

"What else can you do with that thing?" he asked, unable to hide a broader smile. "Because if you tell me, you can make a good steak, then you'll really have me impressed."

A soft snort escaped Christian's lips at Negan's words; he knew full well that the man was only trying to be funny to ease his nerves, and he was happy to help.

"Well, if you have patience and I manage to find some beef to analyze, we can give it a try," he replied with a playful look. "But I warn you, I'm more of a tech creator than a chef, so I can't guarantee it'll taste good."

Negan let out a more relaxed laugh this time, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm not that picky. As long as it doesn't taste like cardboard, I'll be happy," he said, leaning back in his chair and letting out a short chuckle while looking at Christian with a mix of amusement and joy.

"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Smith," Christian replied sarcastically at the man's words.

Everyone laughed at his comment, and a warm, familial atmosphere began to form in the space, which pleased Christian.

"Alright, enough chatting; let's eat," Negan said as he prepared to dig into his soup. However, before bringing his bowl closer, he looked at Christian. "But first, you know, you can heat these up and make a coffee for me… please."

Christian let out a soft laugh as he started up the machine again. "At your service, boss."

After finishing breakfast, which consisted of an unusual combination of soup and coffee—a strange mix but better than nothing given the circumstances—the atmosphere around the table had become even more relaxed. Despite the oddity of the meal, it seemed everyone had enjoyed it in some way, or at least appreciated the warmth and the shared moment.

"Coffee and soup… an interesting combination," Negan commented with curiosity. "But nothing to complain about; thanks for the coffee, Chris."

"You're welcome," Christian replied, feeling pleased by the compliment.

As the atmosphere remained light, Christian allowed himself to relax in his thoughts. There was much to do that day. He contemplated how to present the improvements he had made around the house to Negan and Lucille. They might not like the idea of what he had done, but he knew it was necessary for everyone's safety. Moreover, he was eager to show them some of the weapons he had created, which were designed so that none could be used against him; even if they tried, they would be ineffective at causing him harm.

Along with the matter of the weapons was the need to train them, both in using those weapons and in getting them accustomed to the idea that, sooner or later, he would have to use them—not only against walkers but also against other humans. The appearance of the latter was inevitable, given the discreet yet extremely eye-catching things he had done, like the wall that had practically been constructed in a single night, made of a material so superior in strength and consistency that it could be considered indestructible. Curiosity killed the cat.

In any case, Christian hoped that the training wouldn't turn out to be too difficult to complete. At least in the case of killing walkers, of course. Facing an absolute predator—monsters, in short—whose only desire was to consume living flesh—which, in this case, was oneself—made it relatively easy to mentally prepare for killing them. It was a life-or-death situation, simple to grasp. However, with humans, things were, as they often were, more complicated. Depending on the circumstances, one might end up killing someone in self-defense; the heat of battle always prioritizes instincts over emotions.

The real problem began when the act of killing didn't occur in the midst of battle, where the instinct for survival and adrenaline cloud emotions. No, the true challenge lay in making that decision with full awareness, when there was no immediate threat and someone's life rested in one's hands, and one had to decide whether to pull the trigger or not. That pause, that space between action and thought, was what made the act infinitely more complex and terrifying.

When one has time to think, to observe the person in front of them, and to remember that, despite the chaos of the world they live in, they are still a human being—that's when the emotional weight emerges. Killing in self-defense is one thing; doing so while knowing that another way out might have been sought is completely different. In those moments, one realizes they have crossed a moral line. Although in this apocalypse, that decision is often necessary, guilt and remorse do not disappear so easily.

Ironically, that same emotional burden, that feeling that what one is doing is still wrong, is what keeps some people's humanity alive. It serves as a reminder that, even though the world has changed, morality and principles have not been completely shattered.

Christian, however, had reached a point where these decisions didn't affect him in the same way. His cranial implants and the program provided him with an advantage by disconnecting those feelings of doubt or guilt. But beyond technology, his life, experiences, and personality had already prepared him to handle morally ambiguous situations. Growing up in a Latin American context under a relatively mild dictatorship had given him a very different understanding of morality and justice.

He was accustomed to the harshness of the world, both regarding violence and the immoral actions necessary for survival. He had witnessed firsthand the consequences when a criminal was found by locals. Justice was not always legal, nor peaceful. Crowds took justice into their own hands, and the law, in those cases, was a distant luxury, something for another time and place. Not to mention the mini-rebellions sparked by public discontent, during which the police and public services became enemies of everyone except themselves and their superiors. These experiences had desensitized him in ways that many could not comprehend.

For Christian, the lines between what was moral and immoral were much more flexible than for most people. It wasn't that he didn't understand the gravity of taking a life or committing immoral acts; rather, he knew that at the end of the day, what mattered wasn't whether something was moral or immoral, but whether one survived.

"Chris," Lucille's soft voice pulled Christian from his thoughts about morality. "Yesterday, during lunch, you said you could cure my cancer, right?"

"Yes," Christian replied directly and simply. Negan's gaze shot toward Lucille.

"Lucille…" Negan began, but he was interrupted. The significance of her words had already settled in the air, creating an atmosphere thick with expectation and tension.

"And what would you need to do it?" Negan asked, attempting to maintain a tough tone.

"Just your biological data," Christian answered with his characteristic sincerity.

Lucille kept her gaze fixed on him while Negan, clearly anxious about the direction of the conversation, seemed torn between saying something or simply listening. The silence in the room felt heavy, laden with the gravity of the question.

"What does that mean exactly?" Lucille continued; her tone now more controlled but with palpable curiosity.

"Your biological data includes things like your genetics, physical and cellular condition, and a series of other factors that I will use to identify the cancer-affected cells. Once I have those, it will just be a matter of creating a medical device designed to cure it," Christian explained in a serious voice.

The room fell completely silent, both Negan and Christian directing their gazes toward Lucille, who appeared lost in thought. She remained that way for a while before a heavy sigh escaped her lips, and she turned her gaze toward Christian with a fire one wouldn't expect from someone in her condition.

"Do it," Lucille said, determination ringing in her voice. In a way, that tone surprised both Christian and Negan.

"Lucille, honey, I think we should…" Negan spoke, but was interrupted again. The woman turned her head to look firmly at Negan. A soft smile formed on her face, silencing him immediately.

"Negan, let's be honest," she extended her frail hand toward him; he instinctively did the same. A strong yet delicate grip formed between them.

A grimace of sadness appeared on the faces of both Negan and Lucille. Negan tightened his grip, causing Lucille to wince in pain. He quickly relaxed his hold upon realizing this, a look of guilt forming on his face. Christian merely observed, knowing that in this case, he could only be a spectator.

"No… no, you're not," Negan whispered softly, sadness lacing his voice.

Lucille's only response was to smile at him—a weak, gentle smile that seemed to hold all the love and sadness accumulated over time. Her eyes, though weary, sparkled with a mixture of affection and resignation.

"I am, Negan… and you know it," she said, her voice broken yet firm. "A person who can do nothing more than sleep and complain about the constant pain of their daily life, someone who can't even walk a few steps before falling and fainting on the floor, someone who in this new world only has death as an option, whether by their own body or at the hands of others, both living and dead, that's what I am now, Negan… a burden."

Negan looked at Lucille, his eyes flooded with pain and regret, unable to find the right words. The reality of what Lucille was saying hit him like a cruel and silent slap. He knew she was right; what she described was the inescapable truth of her situation, but that did nothing to make it easier to accept.

"No… not for me," he whispered, his voice choked with the emotion he was trying to contain. "You're not a burden, Lucille. You never will be… No matter what you say, no matter what happens."

Lucille gazed at him with a gentle expression filled with compassion. Her eyes, though weary, radiated a calmness that seemed unreachable for Negan at that moment. She extended her other hand, bringing both of hers together with his in a gentle clasp. Negan responded almost instantly, as if that gesture could halt the reality that loomed over them, but the pain was inescapable. A look of pure sadness etched across his face as he felt Lucille's fragility in his hands.

"I know," Lucille replied, her voice broken yet serene. "I know you don't see it that way, and I truly appreciate it, but that doesn't change the fact that I am."

Negan bowed his head at those words, a grimace of guilt forming on his face. Christian imagined this was because Negan felt guilty for everything that had happened before the apocalypse, for how he had been a bad husband after his dismissal, and for his lowest point, the infidelity he had committed against her.

"I'm tired, Negan," Lucille continued, her voice hard and heartbreaking. "Tired of waking up every day with pain in my body, tired of struggling for even the slightest action. Tired of being completely weakened, of seeing my reflection in the mirror and noticing how my beautiful brown hair has gone. But above all, I'm tired of the constant fear I feel… the terror that consumes me when I think that one day, when you go out there to try to keep us alive, will be the last time I see you. That all of this will end up killing you… because of me."

Tears fell from the woman's eyes, and Negan rose from his chair. Without releasing her hand, he moved to embrace her. Tears also flowed down his cheeks as he buried his face in Lucille's false hair. It was an intimate and loving moment amid the sadness.

"I don't care," Negan replied softly, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't care if I die for you, Luci. I don't care because I know that if I do, it will be my punishment. My punishment for having been a bad husband… for what I did, for everything I was before the world went to hell, for all the ways I have failed you, for all the faults I've committed against our marriage and you."

"Like Janine?" Lucille asked, her voice soft and calm. At the mention of that name, Negan froze; his eyes widened suddenly. An expression of horror, regret, pain, sadness, and anger formed on his face simultaneously. The reason was simple: Janine was Lucille's best friend, the woman with whom Negan had been unfaithful.

"I… Lucille… I—" he tried to speak, but was interrupted by Lucille, who simply tightened her grip on his hand, even though it only tired her already weakened body even more.

"I know, Negan… I always knew," Lucille replied, her calm contrasting with the emotional storm reflected in her eyes. Her tone held neither reproach nor anger but rather acceptance—a kind of acceptance that hurt more than any accusation Negan had expected to hear.

"Then… why didn't you say anything?" Negan asked, his voice heavy with confusion and pain. "Why didn't you leave me? Why didn't you ask me to go? Why do you let me stay by your side as your husband, knowing what I did? Why do you care about me?"

Lucille's face remained calm, but her eyes revealed the deep exhaustion that accompanied her, both physically and emotionally. She struggled to breathe before responding, her words soft yet filled with meaning.

"Because you showed me that there was still something of the person, I fell in love with in you," Lucille answered, her voice gentle but full of conviction. "Because, despite everything you did before… you've shown me that you would be by my side, even in the worst moments. Because, despite everything that has happened, you've been here. You've shown me that you are willing to do anything for me, even when the opportunities to escape, to leave me behind, were always there for you."

Negan looked at her, his face filled with pain and confusion. He couldn't understand how, after everything he had done, Lucille still saw him as someone worthy of her love and trust. He didn't deserve it, not after failing her in so many ways.

"But… why?" he whispered; his voice shattered by the weight of his guilt. "Why do you stay here, Lucille? You know I'm not that man. I'm not the man you deserve. I… I failed you."

Lucille sighed with effort. She knew those words were coming, and she understood how difficult it was for Negan to deal with the guilt that gnawed at him.

"Because the man who is by my side now, the one who has done everything possible to be with me, is the man I love. It doesn't matter what you've done, Negan; I know that deep down, the man you were is still there. And it is that man, not the one who made mistakes, who has kept me alive all this time. Sometimes, when the world is falling apart, we realize who we really are... and that's why in these past two weeks, I've come to see who you truly are, Negan… my husband."

The small tears in Negan's eyes quickly transformed into rivers, and his embrace tightened. They remained in that position for a few seconds, relishing each other's warmth.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness... or your love," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "But if you still see me as your husband... then I will fight to be worthy of that. I will do whatever it takes to ensure you never regret trusting me."

A soft laugh escaped Lucille's lips at this response. Releasing one of her hands, she reached out to touch Negan's face, playfully giving gentle slaps to his right cheek. He responded by accepting those caresses and putting a smile on his face.

"That's enough for me," Lucille declared with a soft joy that surprised both Negan and Christian. "Now, where were we?... Ah, yes, Christian, could you start the process now? Right?"

Christian remained silent for a few seconds, observing the sudden change in Lucille. The fact that she had transitioned from a state of total sadness to one of joy surprised him. It reminded him of a mix of himself and his mother in his previous life. It was strange, but not unpleasant or annoying, just... peculiar.

"Yes," he finally replied, his tone a blend of simplicity and robotic precision. "However, I must clarify that the healing process should take place in a more suitable location."

What he had said was a half-truth; the reality was that the process could occur anywhere at random. However, he wanted to show them the rest of his creations and the things he had made the night before. This addressed both the need for them to become accustomed to these things and a more personal motivation: to see the reactions on their faces when contemplating the Scarabs... if Christian could be childish, he always would be.

"And where would that suitable place be?" Negan asked seriously, while Lucille also adopted a serious demeanor.

Christian, feigning a nervousness that was partially genuine—given his limited ability in human interactions—scratched his left cheek and averted his gaze to the floor. He was reinforcing the idea that, while extremely intelligent and capable in terms of creation, he was not precisely an expert in social dynamics. And, in a way, that wasn't a lie.

"Well, uh... let's just say that the Food Fabricator wasn't my only creation from yesterday," he said, letting out a small laugh, trying to lighten the moment with humor.

Neither Negan nor Lucille responded to that, perhaps due to mental exhaustion, especially after what had occurred at breakfast, just emerging from the realm of dreams, the domains of unreality. A soft sigh escaped Christian's lips.

"I think it would be better if I showed you," he said as he rose from the table and gestured for them to follow. Despite the strangeness of the situation, both Lucille and Negan complied and began to head toward the exit.

Since Lucille couldn't walk well on her own, Negan picked her up, carrying her like a princess. A small gasp of surprise escaped Lucille's lips at the gesture, while a soft laugh bubbled up from Negan. She responded by giving him a light slap on the cheek, a tender gesture that clashed with the gravity of the moment.

Negan ascended the stairs effortlessly; his experience as a former physical education teacher and his good physical condition made the burden no challenge for him. Once they reached the door, Christian raised a hand to signal them to stop. The looks of confusion on the couple's faces were evident.

"Before we go out, I just want to ask you not to be frightened by what you are about to witness..." Christian warned them, his tone serious but conciliatory. "And I apologize for ruining your stroll... I think."

Without giving them time to react, he swung the door wide open, revealing the technological marvels he had created during the night. The expressions on Negan and Lucille's faces instantly transformed into a mix of surprise and confusion that greatly amused Christian. If it weren't for his cranial implants regulating his emotions, he likely would have been laughing out loud at that moment. He was genuinely pleased with his cybernetic enhancements, as they allowed him to savor the moment without overflowing.

Negan, carrying Lucille, began to move slowly and cautiously outside the house, as if unsure how to proceed with the scene unfolding before him. Everything he saw appeared completely alien, as if it had emerged from another world. Lucille, though weakened, couldn't help but widen her eyes at what they were witnessing. Both felt as though they were at the center of a science fiction spectacle, and it filled them with a mixture of fascination and fear.

Christian watched them closely, relishing every moment of their bewilderment. Although he intended to be modest about his creations, he knew that what he had done would leave them speechless. The man was childish.

"Alex... Chris, what the hell is this?" Negan asked, finally breaking free from his astonishment. He looked at Christian with a mix of disbelief, his trembling voice betraying both wonder and concern.

Christian let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he returned their intense gaze. Although he felt a bit exposed under the weight of their stares, he wasn't entirely uncomfortable. He had anticipated a reaction like this, but it always felt peculiar to deal with it.

"Well, as I already mentioned, I don't need sleep to function..." he began explaining in a soft voice. "So, after helping with the defense of the place yesterday, and seeing that... well, your security systems were a bit crude from my perspective, I decided to use my technological knowledge to create everything you see here."

Negan and Lucille continued to observe him, incredulous. It was understandable, given that they were ordinary people from 2010, whose greatest technological advance was the damn introduction of the iPad by Apple. However, considering that the CDC apparently possessed an incredible level of technology in the form of a microscope capable of viewing DNA at a level that no known modern technology could achieve—down to visible base pair linkages—it might not be the case. Still, Christian doubted that such things were available to the public. He maintained his point: this was not something anyone from this world was accustomed to seeing... and that said a lot in a zombie-populated world.

"I apologize for having destroyed part of your yard..." Christian added with an awkward laugh, pointing to the ground speckled with construction debris. "I just needed space for my constructions... and for my helpers."

"Helpers?" Negan asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion. He turned his gaze forward and surveyed the area. "Given what I see, I imagine those are the robot insects in our yard... right?"

That last part sounded more like a hope that there wouldn't be another crazy surprise. A soft laugh escaped Christian's lips at that, followed closely by Lucille's laughter. It was curious how the woman seemed more willing to accept all of this than Negan himself; Christian wasn't sure why.

"Yes," Christian replied with an amused smile as he stepped out of the house, then turned left and began to descend the short stairs, with the couple following closely behind. While Negan maintained his usual stern expression, his slow and cautious steps betrayed him. Clearly, the man had some reservations about the Scarabs in the yard, which was understandable, given how alien they appeared, or rather, strange.

"I call them Scarabs," Christian explained once the trio was fully outdoors, facing the insect robots. It was notable that both Negan and Lucille shuddered slightly, likely due to the gentle chill of the morning air blowing, and the fact that, as basic humans, they were extremely susceptible to it. "They are multipurpose robots equipped with a wide variety of tools and devices for various purposes: things like construction, maintenance, soldiers, defense, and more. It's thanks to them that I was able to build all of this in just one night."

A look of concern was etched on Negan's face, contrasting with his wife's expressions, which displayed pure curiosity and a kind of strange joy.

"Are they safe?" Negan asked in a straightforward tone.

"Technically, yes," Christian responded directly. "I designed them with the strictest safety protocols and measures to avoid any problems when following or enforcing various types of orders. Nothing complicated, but functional."

Negan nodded at the response, though his next question made it clear he still had doubts.

"And what if those protocols fail?" he asked, his worry evident. Lucille shared his concern, though she remained silent; Christian could see it in her expression.

"Well, if only one fails, then the others will pounce on it and destroy it. If half of them fail, then it would turn into a two-sided war. And if all of them fail... well, let's just say 'apocalyptic' would be a mild way to describe what would happen in that case," Christian explained in a serious, robotic tone. Negan and Lucille shot him strange looks, especially at his last remark.

"We know most people would say something to put everyone at ease after a comment like that," Lucille said casually, her eyes still on the Scarabs. "Or they'd outright lie about the consequences."

Christian nodded, acknowledging Lucille's remark with a blend of seriousness and honesty.

"Yes, most would," he admitted. "But I prefer to be straightforward. There's no point in lying about what could happen if something went wrong. However, I should stress that the chances of them all failing at once are incredibly low. It's more likely the world would end again before that happens."

Negan looked at him with distrust, his jaw clenched as he processed what Christian had just said. "And how can you be so sure they won't fail?"

"For one thing, the Scarabs are programmed to follow direct orders from me. They have backup systems, and any failure in one of them triggers an emergency protocol that the others detect immediately. Plus, all the Scarabs are connected to a network that I constantly monitor, so if I detect any anomaly, I can intervene right away," Christian replied, keeping his robotic and direct tone.

Lucille let out a soft sigh, and with a small gesture of resignation, she said, "Well, we're already living in some kind of apocalypse. I guess there's not much to lose by trusting you, right?"

She looked at Negan with a warm smile, trying to ease his concern.

Negan, however, still didn't seem entirely convinced, though his wife's comment had softened his stance.

"Just make sure you always have control. I don't want something else in this world trying to kill us," he remarked, his tone laced with humor.

"I've got it," Christian assured him. "As long as I'm here, the Scarabs won't pose any threat to you."

Of course, as long as they don't betray me, Christian thought seriously. It would be a bother to have to kill them... I like them quite a bit.

"Good to hear... I think," Negan said, adjusting his grip on Lucille. The action reminded Christian of another one of his creations, designed specifically to help Lucille with her condition, at least temporarily.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he muttered, noticing on his radar a Scarab approaching, pushing his new creation. "Anyway, let's head to the lab."

At this, the trio began moving again, but stopped as they saw a Scarab approaching at a relatively fast pace, pushing some kind of black chair with green lines. The chair had several cushions, levers on the sides, and a series of buttons next to them.

"Is that normal?" Negan asked, squinting as he prepared for anything.

"Yes, I ordered it to bring one of my creations here," Christian replied calmly, watching as the Scarab closed the distance between them. "Specifically, something designed to help Lucille... at least temporarily."

At those words, Lucille's attention heightened even more.

"Something for me?" she asked softly. Christian nodded.

The distance between them and the Scarab finally closed, and the small insect-like robot stopped a few meters from the trio, presenting the black chair with glowing green lines. Lucille, with a mix of amazement and curiosity, gazed at the device as though she were seeing something out of a futuristic dream, especially when she noticed that the chair seemed to be floating.

Christian stepped forward, placing a hand on the back of the chair, as if presenting a masterpiece—though to any modern human's eyes, it might as well be one.

"This is a motorized chair," Christian explained as he mentally connected to the machine's controls, running a quick diagnostic to check its status, which came back optimal. "Given what I've deduced about your illness and the conditions outside, it would be difficult for you to move around without exhausting yourself or being exposed to danger... so I created this for you. I thought it might be useful until you're ready for me to heal you."

Lucille, still in awe, leaned forward slightly in Negan's arms to get a closer look.

"Does it float?" she asked, her voice filled with fascination.

"It floats, yes. It uses anti-gravity technology that allows it to move smoothly and steadily over any terrain. It can also adapt to uneven surfaces and is designed to be fully autonomous if you wish," Christian responded in a practical, efficient tone, but with a hint of satisfaction.

Negan, still somewhat wary, narrowed his eyes at Christian.

"And it's completely safe, right? I don't want Lucille falling off that thing."

"Completely safe," Christian replied calmly. "I've accounted for every safety detail. It has stability sensors, a self-balancing system, and a power core capable of generating and drawing energy from various sources. In the event of failure or power loss, it will gently lower itself to the ground rather than drop suddenly."

"Chris, I... thank you for the gesture," Lucille said, offering a faint smile and feeling a bit more at ease.

A strange kind of joy flickered in Christian at those words. He had almost forgotten that he had created the chair primarily to gain the couple's trust and speed up their allegiance to him. Though that motivation was purely selfish, it was mutually beneficial—especially since Lucille seemed more open to undergoing the treatment, which would eventually render the chair somewhat useless. At least he could take solace in the blueprints and data he had gathered from the experiments to create it.

"No need to thank me. I just want to help," Christian responded sincerely. "Now, would you like to try it?"

Lucille looked at the chair for a moment, as if weighing her next move, before slowly nodding.

"Yes, I'd like to try it."

Christian smiled and stepped back, giving her access to the chair. Negan, carefully and still somewhat skeptical, lowered her slowly, making sure she was comfortable as she sat down. As soon as her body settled into the chair, the Scarab released it, and the chair emitted a faint hum, activating the moment it registered her weight.

Lucille gave a slight start when she felt the chair respond to her presence, but quickly realized how stable and comfortable it was.

"This is incredible..." she murmured, running her hands over the soft armrests. "It doesn't even feel like a chair... more like I'm in a futuristic vehicle."

Negan watched closely, still maintaining a hint of distrust, but as he saw his wife relax and smile, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah... it sure looks like it," he commented with a strange laugh.

Christian couldn't help but smile broadly, watching his creation fulfill its purpose, and it hadn't even displayed all its features yet.

"You can control it with the handles on the arms," Christian explained.

At his words, Lucille placed her hands on the levers and gently pushed them forward. The chair glided smoothly in that direction. Negan almost lost his balance when his arm, resting on the chair, lost its support. Lucille giggled softly at the sight of Negan stumbling.

"Are you okay?" she asked with a playful smile as she moved a few more inches forward in the chair, gaining confidence in maneuvering it.

Negan, regaining his footing, rubbed his arm and joined in the laughter.

"Yeah, yeah... it just caught me off guard," he said, pretending to be annoyed, but his smile betrayed him. "Looks like you're getting the hang of it pretty quickly."

"Well, it feels good to be able to move properly again after two full weeks," Lucille replied with a hint of melancholy and frustration. "Or float, in this case."

Christian watched with satisfaction as the chair lifted Lucille's spirits. He felt pleased to see that his creation was effectively serving its purpose, offering Lucille a new way to experience mobility, even if only temporarily.

Lucille continued moving around the area, while Negan walked beside her at a slow but steady pace, never taking his eyes off her. His expression was a mixture of relief and concern, clearly comforted by seeing her more active.

"Hey, Chris, what do these buttons do?" Lucille asked. Negan looked at the buttons, then turned his gaze to Christian, who was approaching them.

"They activate the chair's defense system," Christian explained as he stood beside Lucille, beginning to point at the buttons, specifically the one labeled "Attack." "As it says here, this one switch to attack mode."

Driven by curiosity, Lucille pressed the button. Neither Christian nor Negan stopped her—Negan took a few seconds to react, while Christian, for his part, let it happen purely for his own amusement, enjoying the chance to impress the woman and further convince both of them that following his lead was the right choice.

When the button was pressed, the chair transformed abruptly. Two cannons emerged from the sides and the back of the seat. A small pillar rose between Lucille's legs, and from its tip, a lit screen appeared, projecting a solid light interface. This display showed an impressive amount of information: a radar map, a bar symbolizing the chair's shield, a detailed schematic of the chair outlining its features and physical condition, along with a multitude of other functions.

Lucille stared at the screen before her, utterly fascinated by what she saw. The radar map, the shield bar, and all the technical details left her speechless. It felt as if she were piloting a futuristic spaceship.

"Incredible," she said as she reached out towards the screen, feeling like she was touching a solid wall. It was an odd experience for her. "Solid."

Negan moved closer to touch the screen as well. His hand slid over the surface, a look of both curiosity and concern never leaving his face throughout the process.

"So... how many things does this tank chair have?" Negan dubbed the chair while his hands explored the structure's design.

"This 'tank chair' has more than you can imagine," Christian responded with a slightly amused smile, watching their reactions. "Besides the cannons and defense system, it has autonomous navigation, an energy shield capable of withstanding pretty strong impacts, and a self-protection mode if it detects danger when Lucille is alone."

Negan let out a small whistle as he examined the chair, showing a mix of awe and respect for the technology in front of him. Christian felt satisfied seeing that his creation was impressing the couple, further solidifying his role as an ally in this new world.

"Wow... I see why you call it a tank chair. Anything else? Maybe hidden missile launchers or a flight mode?" Negan asked, half-surprised, half-joking.

Christian chuckled softly.

"No, not quite that far. Although it does have a levitation system that allows it to move without touching the ground, making it more agile on rough terrain. But no missiles... for now."

Lucille, still exploring the screen with her hand, nodded, clearly impressed.

"It's more than I could have ever imagined... but is it really safe to use this? I don't want it to explode or something if I make a wrong move."

Christian offered her a reassuring look. "It's designed to be extremely safe. None of the defense functions will activate unless the commands are clear or it detects a direct threat. Plus, you have full control over the chair. You can handle it manually."

Negan, though still not fully convinced, couldn't help but admire the technology.

"Well, it seems like you've thought of everything, Chris. I just hope we don't have to see those weapons in action."

Christian nodded, maintaining his smile.

"I hope so too. But it's always better to be prepared, don't you think?"

"Yeah... I do," Negan agreed.

"I'm glad you think so," Christian replied, starting to move away from the group and heading toward the back. "Now, how about we go ahead and get you healed, Lucille?"

The group resumed their original mission, the reason they had set out in the first place. Thanks to the chair, the journey became calmer and more relaxed, creating a sort of positive energy in the air.

During the trip, Christian explained some of his newer creations, like the generator and the converter. The couple's reactions were more subdued and relaxed by comparison, even when Christian mentioned the generator's energy capacity, which could power not only their entire house but also a whole city without issue. Christian figured their attitude stemmed from the sheer number of innovations he had already shown them—things that, in simpler terms, were far more impressive than an energy generator, even if it was infinitely superior to any human technology currently available.

Once they arrived at the entrance of the laboratory, Christian paused for a moment to observe the building. It was a simple, functional structure—a black square without any embellishments, designed more for utility than aesthetics. Despite its austere appearance, it served perfectly as a temporary lab until he could build something more advanced, whether it be on a spaceship or in Atlanta, as he had planned.

"Well, here we are," Christian said with a slight smile as he approached the main door, which was wide enough to allow Lucille to enter with her chair. The only visible access was a plain door, which could be opened either through a fingerprint scanner or by issuing a mental command via his neural interface.

Christian opted for the latter, sending a direct order through his neural interface. Within seconds, the door emitted a soft beep and slid open with precise, smooth motion.

"After you," he added, gesturing toward the interior with a friendly gesture.

Lucille and Negan exchanged a quick glance before Lucille moved forward in her motorized chair. Their curiosity was palpable, though the emotions guiding them were distinct. Lucille seemed more intrigued by the technology, while Negan, though still cautious, felt somewhat more relaxed after what they had witnessed in the past few hours.

The interior of the lab was as austere as its exterior, filled with advanced machinery, glass tanks filled with strange liquids, holographic screens, and tools that seemed pulled from a distant future. In the center of the room stood a large surgical chair, from which hung a series of robotic arms equipped with various tools and devices. Everything was organized with precision; each element had a clear purpose. Additionally, the space maintained a comfortable ambient temperature, neither too cold nor too hot.

"This is more than I expected," Lucille murmured as she looked around. Christian smiled, pleased that his technology and equipment were ready to fulfill their purpose.

"This is just the beginning," Christian remarked. "Now, let's get to the important part. We're going to heal you, Lucille."

Walking toward one of the screens in the lab, specifically the one next to the table, Christian gestured for the couple to come closer. Without hesitation, they moved to his side.

"Okay, now lie down on the chair," Christian ordered with a soft but firm voice as he adjusted various controls on the holographic screen in front of him.

Lucille, though a bit nervous, trusted Christian's words. With Negan's assistance, she slowly rose from the motorized chair and reclined on the surgical seat. Notably, the chair was equipped with red cushions designed to keep the patient as comfortable as possible.

As soon as her body was completely on the chair, a red light emanating from the ceiling devices began to envelop her. The red light scanned Lucille's figure with precision, projecting a detailed three-dimensional model of her physical structure onto the screen. Christian observed the scanner intently, focusing on the area affected by pancreatic cancer. The indicators displayed the progression of the disease and the specific areas that required immediate attention; given that the illness was advanced and, due to chemotherapy, the affected area was not overly extensive.

"Alright," Christian murmured, adjusting some controls on the screen. "The scanner has confirmed everything I already knew. We're ready to proceed."

Lucille watched, nervous yet confident, while Negan, by her side, gently held her hand, providing emotional support. One of the robotic arms on the ceiling moved toward her, holding a tube with a syringe at the end that contained healing nanomachines of the same type that Christian had in his body. The robotic hand, perfectly synchronized with Christian's instructions, positioned itself precisely over the base of Lucille's spine, where the skin was closest to the main blood flow. The tube with the syringe paused for a moment, and Christian looked at Lucille calmly.

"I'm going to inject the nanomachines here," Christian explained, his voice soothing. "From this point, they will travel through your circulatory system, quickly reaching the pancreas and starting to attack the cancerous cells at a molecular level. At the same time, they will reinforce your immune system so you can resist any relapse… Are you ready?"

Lucille nodded slowly, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves. "Yes... I'm ready," she murmured, gripping Negan's hand tightly. Her husband looked at her with a mix of concern and hope, continuously offering his support.

Christian nodded with a calm smile. "Alright, this will be quick."

With almost millimeter precision, the robotic hand injected the nanomachines into the base of Lucille's spine. Once the contents were in her body, the needle retracted. She barely felt a slight pressure at the injection site, and Christian attentively monitored the screens. The display showed in real time the path of the nanomachines as they advanced through her bloodstream, rapidly approaching the pancreas.

"Everything is going as planned," Christian said, his voice firm and controlled, though a faint glimmer of satisfaction shone in his eyes. "They have already begun their work. In a few moments, they will start attacking the cancerous cells while protecting the healthy tissue."

Lucille took a deep breath, feeling a slight tingling in her abdomen. "Is this sensation normal?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not sure. I don't sense any pain or physical discomfort," Christian replied, noticing the worried expressions on Lucille and Negan's faces. "But based on my knowledge and what the screen shows, it's probably normal."

Negan, still holding her hand, carefully observed his wife's face for any signs of pain or discomfort. "How do you feel, sweetheart?"

Lucille closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the sensation to settle in her body. "Good... better than I expected."

"The nanomachines will continue working in your body for the next few hours," Christian continued, speaking in a calm and professional tone. "I warn you that you will be very tired; you may faint and feel extremely hungry due to your body needing to recover from the damage, both physical and mental. This is completely normal, as they are working intensively to heal you. The important thing is to stay hydrated, eat, and rest."

Lucille nodded slowly, still reclining in the surgical chair. "So... when will I be healed?" she asked with slight curiosity.

"In a few hours at most," he replied sincerely. "As I mentioned, it's not serious, so it will be relatively easy for you to recover from this."

"Really?" Negan said, surprised. Given that even the shortest treatments often lasted weeks, his reaction was understandable.

"Yes," Christian confirmed, his gaze returning to the screen. No unexpected changes appeared; Lucille's body remained still and calm, with her heart rate pulsing between 40 and 60 beats per minute, essentially matching the rhythm of someone who was asleep.

Christian shifted his gaze from the screen and looked directly at Lucille. As he had anticipated, the nanomachines were already in full operation, utilizing her body's energy. Lucille was completely asleep, her expression tranquil with a slight smile on her face, clearly relaxed despite what was happening inside her. Negan continued to hold her hand, utterly reluctant to leave her side.

"Hey, Negan," Christian whispered to get his attention. Instantly, the man turned his head toward him. "Come here."

Negan looked at him in confusion for a moment, but seeing the seriousness in Christian's face, he nodded slowly. Carefully and quietly, he released Lucille's hand, placing it on her chest before stepping back. However, he cast one last worried glance at his wife before moving toward Christian, who was configuring some settings on the screen.

"What's up?" Negan asked quietly, concern still evident in his tone. He probably thought that what Christian wanted to discuss was about Lucille's condition, which was not entirely inaccurate.

Christian finished adjusting the settings and then turned fully toward him. "I wanted you to step back for two reasons," he began to explain. "The first is this."

Christian pressed a button on the screen, and immediately a small hatch opened in the floor. A series of glass panels emerged, starting to surround the surgical table where Lucille rested. The panels smoothly closed around her, creating a transparent capsule that softly glowed with a gentle light.

In addition to this, a series of nozzles opened from the floor, releasing oxygen and a solution rich in vitamins and minerals, quickly filling the interior of the capsule around Lucille with a soft mist. The fine fog slowly dissipated, evenly covering her skin. Upon seeing this, Negan began to get agitated, but Christian quickly placed his left hand on his shoulder.

"Calm down," Christian said in a soothing voice, gently squeezing Negan's shoulder to reassure him. "This is part of the process. It won't harm her; on the contrary, it's helping her."

Negan took a deep breath, although his eyes remained fixed on the capsule enveloping Lucille, watching as the mist dissipated and cloaked her. Concern still lingered in his gaze, but he trusted Christian, even if it was hard to believe in the speed at which everything was happening.

Christian continued explaining while keeping his hand on Negan's shoulder. "The nanomachines need resources and energy to work, and her body alone cannot produce enough quickly. This capsule, in addition to keeping her in a controlled environment, provides nutrients that her body can absorb immediately in the form of a gaseous solution. This way, the nanomachines can continue their task without needing anything from Lucille."

Negan nodded, slowly grasping the explanation. "And the second reason?"

"The second reason is... more delicate," Christian replied, removing his hand from Negan's shoulder and adopting a more serious demeanor. "Come with me."

The duo moved toward the back of the laboratory, where Christian pointed to three objects resting on the long table beside a stationary mannequin.

The first object was a robust, futuristic-looking handgun, relatively large and completely black, constructed from Living Metal. It lacked ornamental details, featuring only a simple metallic sight, a small flashlight beneath the barrel, a stock designed to control recoil, a silencer, and a lever on the grip.

The second object was a futuristic rifle, also black, without notable details. It had a relatively long barrel and a sizeable stock. Additionally, it featured a sniper scope, a vertical grip, a flashlight beneath the barrel, a silencer, a wheel with symbols along one side of a line, and several blank lines, as well as a lever on its right side. Beyond these characteristics, there was nothing remarkable about it.

The third object was essentially a modified baseball bat. Its surface was covered with sharp spikes that ran the entire length, and it was a deep black color, revealing its composition of Living Metal, similar to the handgun. Like the previous one, it lacked adornments or eye-catching details, except for the handle, which appeared to be wrapped in a kind of gray fabric to provide a better grip.

Lastly, but not least, there was a mannequin beside the table, displaying a full-body black armor that denoted its composition. This armor consisted of a breastplate covering the entire torso, along with protection for the arms and legs, plus a belt filled with pockets, prominently featuring a holster for a pistol.

The armor also included a helmet with a green visor, covering most of the head while leaving the mouth and nose exposed. The helmet, like the armor, was designed to offer protection in extreme conditions and even featured a flashlight integrated into the side, useful for night missions or in low-visibility environments. In addition to the belt, the suit included several strategically placed pockets throughout the armor, designed to carry tools, ammunition, or other equipment efficiently, ensuring that everything was within reach during combat situations.

"I created these things for you," Christian explained as he approached the table, with Negan closely following.

"For me?" Negan asked, confused, stopping beside the table. His gaze drifted over the objects, filled with a curious yet worried air.

"Yes, for you." Christian pointed to the handgun and the rifle. "These are weapons I've named Deathlight Weapons. They are laser-based armaments that fire beams of concentrated light, which, upon contact with the target, generate a small explosion whose magnitude can vary in terms of radius and lethality."

Christian picked up the handgun and handed it to Negan, who hesitated for a moment before grasping it and starting to inspect it.

"The handgun and the rifle are examples of this. The handgun has a lower rate of fire, but each shot is so powerful that it can cause significant damage in an instant, even penetrating a steel plate five centimeters thick. It is ideal as a last-resort weapon."

Christian lifted the rifle, pointing to a wheel on the side of the weapon. The symbols on the wheel displayed a line for semi-automatic mode and several lines for automatic mode, which could be switched by turning the selector with a simple thumb movement.

"The rifle was created to function both as an assault rifle and a sniper rifle," he explained while Negan observed attentively. "This is thanks to its ability to switch between automatic and semi-automatic modes. In automatic mode, you can fire rapid bursts, ideal for close to mid-range combat, although at the cost of lower damage and explosiveness." Christian turned the wheel to automatic mode and mimicked a shot, emphasizing the speed and fluidity of the bursts.

"On the other hand," he continued while turning the wheel back to semi-automatic mode, "in this mode, you get surgical precision at long distances, and not only that. The damage it inflicts is significantly greater, as is the explosion generated upon impact. So much so that you could easily penetrate a steel plate ten centimeters thick with a single shot."

Negan assessed the weapon's features as he continued to toy with it. "Useful… very useful," he remarked, his eyes examining every detail. "And the ammunition? Since this thing uses energy, I doubt it needs bullets."

Christian moved his hand and pointed to the area between the grip and the vertical handle, basically the space where the magazine would normally be located, which had an elongated rectangular shape. "The weapons are powered by a small modified Ener generator inside," Christian explained. "This device absorbs ambient radiation of any kind and converts it into energy for the shots. You don't have to worry about loading ammunition; as long as the Ener generator has access to a source of radiation, the weapon will keep functioning. It's practically infinite under normal circumstances. Also, both weapons have a safety mechanism in the form of a small lever: for the handgun, it's on the grip, and for the rifle, it's on the right side."

Christian left the weapon on the table and picked up the bat, showing it to Negan. Instantly, Negan's attention shifted to the object; he discarded the handgun on the table and grabbed the bat. A joyful expression formed on his face as he held it, almost as if he were reuniting with an old friend.

"Hello, gorgeous," he said in a playful tone to the bat, stepping away slightly from Christian and starting to swing it. "Good weight, nice grip, and, from the looks of it, very lethal… let me guess, can it shoot laser beams?"

The man appeared extremely cheerful as he said this, almost like a child. Christian couldn't help but smile at Negan's reaction.

"No, although that wouldn't be a bad idea," Christian replied, leaning against the table. "The bat is simply a melee weapon I created as a last resort in case the rifle or the handgun fails, or both… You seem excited, Negan."

A wistful smile formed on Negan's face upon hearing those words; his gaze returned to the bat, and his grip tightened.

"I like baseball, or well, anything physical, really. I mean, after all, it was part of my physical education; that's what I used to do," he remarked in a soft, thoughtful voice, glancing at Christian. "You… Alexander also liked baseball. He told me it was a taste inherited from his father."

Christian's smile faded slightly upon hearing Negan's words. The name Alexander resonated in the air, bringing with it a mix of memories and emotions. For a moment, Christian simply looked at him, analyzing his companion's words and tone.

"You… miss him, don't you?" he asked in a simple, calm voice.

"Yes… I do," Negan replied quietly. "Especially now that your eyes are as blue as his… it's strange… especially since I know they weren't like that yesterday."

Christian had altered the color of his eyes overnight to match Alexander's, the former owner of his body. His knowledge of this came from possessing the originals in his Augmentation Room.

He kept his gaze fixed on Negan, allowing the silence between them to speak for itself.

"I modified them so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable," Christian finally confessed, his voice low but firm. "I'm sorry if I achieved the opposite effect; I'm not good with human emotions."

A soft laugh escaped Negan's lips at that comment. He stepped closer to Christian and placed his right hand on his left shoulder.

"Relax, this… isn't your fault," Negan said in a gentler tone. His words carried a mix of understanding and acceptance.

"I understand," Christian accepted, feeling relieved that the change in his eyes had produced a positive outcome. "Now, how about I show you my latest creation?"

Removing his hand from Negan's shoulder, Christian moved toward the mannequin and placed his hand on it.

"A simple armor, or at least that's what it is to me," he explained as he began to remove the armor pieces from the mannequin. He then placed the parts on the table. "Now, put it on."

"Put it on?" Negan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is it that easy?"

"Yes," Christian replied. "I made it based on your measurements; it's designed for you."

"First of all, I'd like to know how you obtained them, but given your ability to detect Lucille's cancer just by looking at her, I'll assume it's thanks to your eyes," Negan said in a calm tone as he moved toward the table.

Once there, he began to don the armor. The process was a bit slow, as Negan had no prior experience with technological armor and wasn't quite sure how to equip himself. A full minute passed as he struggled to fit the pieces in place. Christian wore a teasing smile that could have irritated anyone. Once on, Negan made a few movements to adjust to the armor; he appeared somewhat uncomfortable, but given what he was wearing underneath, it was clear that was to be expected.

"It's strange," Negan said, moving his arms with slight discomfort. "But surprisingly light for what I expected."

"It's made, like all my creations, of Living Metal, the same material that exists in my body," Christian explained as he guided him toward the only mirror in the room. A curious look formed on Negan's face as he saw his appearance. "Not only is it lighter compared to any current human material, but it's also very durable and resilient; you could shoot it with grenade launchers and you wouldn't do more than scratch it. Additionally, it has a series of images on the back that you can use to secure your weapons, so you don't have to carry them in your hands."

"I see… it's interesting," Negan said, keeping his gaze on the reflection and feeling the strangeness of his appearance. "Chris, while we're at it, I've been wondering: what's the real reason behind all this? Why do you create these weapons and armor?"

Christian fell momentarily silent, directing a serious and intense look at Negan, which made him shudder slightly.

"The answer is simple, Negan, and I think you know it too, don't you?" Christian said in a serious tone. Negan looked away, aware of what he meant. "Negan, look, I don't know how to say this gently, so I'll just tell you: the world is going to hell."

Negan didn't say anything; he just grimaced. His hands turned into fists, tightening with force.

"From what you've told me, it's only been two weeks since it all began," Christian spoke softly and calmly. "Two weeks in which any apparent attempts by the government, any idiot in charge, or humanity itself to restore the situation and order have failed… Negan, when I woke up, I was surrounded by nearly 400 infected people trying to eat me. If it hadn't been for the helmet suit, I was wearing, I'd be dead and headless."

A disturbed and worried look formed on Negan's face upon hearing this.

"I killed them all, Negan. Every single one was eliminated, whether by my weapons or my own hands," Christian explained. "Damn it, the place where you found me was surrounded to hell with those things. You know, it was the first time I created something, and it was a gas that literally destroys those things at a molecular level… it left nothing behind, not even their clothes."

"So that's why that place was so empty," Negan murmured to himself. "So, was it because of them that you created these weapons and armor for me? So, I could fight and defend myself and Lucille?"

"Yes," Christian confirmed, maintaining a firm gaze on Negan. "But not just for that; also, for the normal."

Negan stared back after those words, but Christian didn't mind. It was better to make this clear before a tragedy similar to what had happened to the man in the program occurred.

"I don't know many humans, Negan, but my mind is loaded with enough information about human biology to know that they're not different from any animal in this world," Christian spoke firmly, ignoring how Negan shifted uncomfortably at his way of referring to people. "When there's no order, chaos ensues. When there are no rules, people do what they want. When resources dwindle, others will want what you have. And when all this happens, the living will be your greatest enemy in this world. Sooner or later, you'll be forced to treat them as such. That means…"

"Eliminate them... I know," Negan interrupted, letting out a weary sigh. His gaze focused on his reflection in the mirror, where an expression of fatigue and resignation formed on his face. "I... appreciate what you're doing for us."

"Listen," Christian continued, keeping his gaze fixed on Negan. "You didn't attack me when we first met, nor when you learned of my condition. Besides, you and Lucille gave me information about who I'm supposed to be and allowed me to live in your home. It's the least I can do," Christian replied in a soft and calm voice.

"I see, thank you for that," Negan nodded at Christian's words, processing them. "I... will think about what you said."

"I hope you do. I really don't want anything bad to happen to you," Christian replied, beginning to walk toward the exit of the room.

Negan watched him for a moment before speaking quickly. "Wait, where are you going?"

Christian stopped and turned back to him, an amused expression on his face. "You didn't say you wanted a steak. I'm going to the forest to see if I can find any animals for meat. I'm sure Lucille will like it too."

Negan looked at him for a few seconds before a soft laugh escaped his mouth at that simple, trivial response.

"You really are… unique, you know," he said cheerfully, chuckling softly. However, that quickly shifted to a more relaxed and contemplative expression. "Tell me, Chris, how much time had passed since you woke up in that alley when we first met?"

Christian paused at the question, feigning a state of reflection. It was all an act to reinforce his selective amnesia.

"An hour, at most," Christian easily lied to the man. "When I woke up, I really didn't know what was going on, but since I had to act immediately to avoid being eaten, I didn't think much about it."

"You really don't rest at all, do you?" Negan said in a soft and sad tone.

"No, I really don't," Christian replied indifferently. "Given the modifications to my body, I don't actually need to rest to function, so I simply don't. It's not for me."

With nothing more to say, Christian crossed the entire laboratory. Just as he was about to exit, a whisper from Negan reached his ears.

"You really haven't changed at all… Alexander." Negan's voice was sad but positive.

The door closed quickly behind Christian as he stepped back outside. He walked a few meters to distance himself from the laboratory, then mentally commanded a Scarab. The machine approached him swiftly, climbing onto his back. Once in place, the nanomachines of his suit covered the Scarab, integrating it without causing discomfort or annoyance.

Christian checked his radar, and upon confirming there was no danger, he prepared to act. He then took a great leap that carried him over the walls surrounding the perimeter. His landing was smooth and silent, thanks to the antigravity technology he possessed.

Rising to his feet, Christian ventured into the forest, determined to search for a game animal to feed Negan and Lucille. He certainly hoped to find something worthwhile.

"I think this will do."

After walking aimlessly for about thirty minutes, Christian finally detected something on his radar that was of a sufficient size to identify as a living edible being. Hidden among some bushes and wearing his dark green suit, he observed a deer wandering calmly and relaxed through the forest, without worry or fear.

Decided to act, he drew his left weapon from its holster and switched it to silenced pistol mode. The weapon transformed and restructured at his command. He gently aimed the weapon at the deer, which he nicknamed "Bambi." His eyes and mind quickly processed all the calculations, and once everything was ready, he fired.

A ray of green light sliced through the environment, making no sound beyond the murmur of nature. Instantly, the deer fell dead to the ground with a hole in its head, and Christian emerged from his hiding spot, moving toward the carcass.

Once beside the deer, he commanded his nanomachines to retract from his right hand. Nozzles opened on each finger, and he quickly plunged his hand into the animal's body. A series of data flooded his vision; everything related to the deer was available to him. Genetic information, tissue status, cellular structure, and even its recent diet unfolded before him as if he were reading a detailed report. All of this was stored in his databases and transmitted to the rest of his systems.

Throughout this process, he couldn't help but think that perhaps he had been a bit hasty in giving Negan the talk about killing. However, considering what would happen in the future, it was better to do it now than never. This was also one of the reasons he had gone out; nothing like solitude for self-reflection and internal criticism—well, that and the fact that he wanted to take a walk as well.

Once satisfied with the results, he withdrew his hand from the carcass and allowed his nanomachines to cover his skin once more. The blood and any waste were quickly cleaned by the nanomachines in the suit, which used them as fuel.

Determined not to waste a death, Christian hoisted the deer onto his back and began to walk back to the base. However, that plan quickly halted as he noticed a pair of red dots appearing on his radar, moving toward his position. Given their color, it was clear they were humans—two, to be precise—who would take a few minutes to arrive at his location given their speed.

Driven by curiosity and a good dose of recklessness, Christian ran toward the bush where he had previously hidden, dropping the deer to the ground to conceal himself once more.

Excitement grew within him as the dots drew nearer. Three minutes—that was the time it took for them to present themselves before him, revealing their forms and appearances.

A young woman and a girl were those dots, both with black skin, black hair, and brown eyes. They were in a pitiful state, covered in dirt and dust. The young woman and the girl, clearly exhausted and desperate, collapsed to the ground in front of him.

The older one appeared to be a young adult, standing about 1.70 meters tall. She wore a dirty, tight-fitting red shirt, dark blue pants that were also filthy, and red sneakers, equally stained. As for her physical appearance, many would have used the word "standard" to describe her, even somewhat unfeminine, given her seemingly strong and slightly muscular build. However, to Christian, this only made her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life.

The girl beside her shared almost the same characteristics as the older one but appeared more childlike, with a body suitable for her age. She wore a dirty yellow dress, slightly torn at the bottom, and had crescent-shaped earrings dangling from her ears.

The older girl's body trembled with weakness as she vomited, a clear sign of her dire condition. Through her eyes, Christian could see the source of her suffering: an infected bite on her shoulder, surrounded by necrotic tissue. The active infection from Wildfire had begun to spread.

The pain on the young woman's face was evident, but what struck Christian the most was how she gently pushed the little girl away. Even in her misery, she tried to protect the child, keeping her away from the danger posed by her condition.

Christian stood still for a moment, processing what lay before him. They were not a threat, but the bite indicated that the young woman had little time left before transforming. The little girl, unaware of the imminent danger, remained worried about her companion, hugging her with tears in her eyes.

He supposed that what ultimately prompted him to act was perhaps compassion, maybe pity, or perhaps the fact that the older girl met all his criteria for someone to assist. Sometimes, even being a crazy cyborg wasn't enough to save oneself from his fetishes; in fact, sometimes, it only made it worse.

Determined to act quickly, he emerged from his hiding spot and approached the pair. The sound of his footsteps quickly alerted the young woman to his presence. She looked at him with an expression of utter disbelief and confusion. It was notable that Christian wasn't wearing a helmet, giving him a foolish air as he seemed to want to feel the wind on his face.

He could see her body trembling, and while the bite was concerning, her weakness indicated that she was in no condition to do anything but observe. The little girl, still frightened, pressed against her sister, clearly terrified but too weak to resist or flee.

"Hello, I am…" he began to introduce himself to the pair but was interrupted by the older girl.

"Miller?" the young woman asked, surprised. Christian quickly recognized the surname. It was the name that, according to Negan, belonged to the body he inhabited, that of the person known as Alexander Miller.

"Do I know you?" asked Asha, her tone soft yet curious, as her eyes scrutinized Christian's face more closely.

"Yes, I am… never mind," the woman gave up on her introduction. "Look, I need you to take my sister away from here."

"But Asha…" the little girl began, her voice trembling with concern, but Asha, maintaining a firm gaze despite her condition, gently interrupted her.

"Without buts, Gracy," Asha spoke with a hard voice, but her expression quickly softened. "Everything will be fine, okay? You need to go with him. You'll be safe… I'll distract them so you both can escape."

Asha looked at her younger sister with a soft, sorrowful voice as tears silently streamed down her face. The little girl, with a resigned expression on her dirty face, heeded her older sister's words and walked toward Christian, gripping his hand tightly. Despite the order, Christian remained motionless, studying Asha with a cold, intense curiosity, analyzing every detail of the dying woman before him.

Noticing the lack of action, Asha frowned. Exhaustion and anger began to invade her expression.

"Come on, what are you waiting for, damn it! Run!" she shouted in an annoyed tone. "Quickly, before—"

Whatever she wanted to say was abruptly interrupted by the loud roar of motorcycles that shattered the tranquility of the forest, a sound resonating with threatening violence. Asha and her sister reacted with sheer terror, their faces paling as they heard the bikers approaching rapidly. Christian remained calm, but his radar had already warned him of the situation. Ten red dots moved quickly, closing in on their position. In a matter of seconds, they were practically upon them.

Christian slowly turned, evaluating the new threat. The bikers emerging from the trees looked like they had stepped out of a gang movie, dressed in black leather, chains, and battered helmets. They were a group of bandits clearly ready to intimidate and pillage. The roars of their motorcycles grew deafening as they formed a semicircle around Christian, Asha, and the little girl.

One of them, likely the leader, stopped his bike at the front of the group. He dismounted with an arrogant attitude, his gaze fixed on Asha and her sister before locking eyes with Christian. "Well, well, what do we have here," he said with a nasty smile. "Looks like you've caught something interesting, guys."

The other bikers chuckled under their breath as the leader approached further. Asha trembled with pure terror, her body seeming to lose all traces of strength. The little girl pressed even closer to Christian, clearly frightened.

The leader continued speaking, deliberately ignoring Christian as he addressed Asha. "We thought we lost you, but you see... we always find what we're looking for."

As all this unfolded, one singular thought filled Christian's mind at the situation: a reflection of the classic mentality of a lunatic like him… a simp for black girls. "Let's see which one I should kill first to impress her."

Author's Notes:

Hello, how are you? I hope you're well.

This is the seventh chapter of the fanfic and the longest I have written to date, not just for this fanfic but for all my writings in general. In this chapter, we see Christian showcase some of his creations to Negan and Lucille, the creation of ultra-OP machines, the healing of Lucille, the search for non-human meat, and the encounter with another apparent person and her sister, who seems to be part of Christian's body's past; I should mention that she is an OC.

Overall, I can say that there are parts of the chapter that I don't like, such as the rigidity of the conversations, but I liked the final result. Christian is about to move toward Atlanta; reminder: two weeks have passed since the start of the infection, so he has time to act.

As always, I remind you that English is not my native language, and I am open to criticism. I have been using AI to correct errors, but there is still room for improvement.

Thank you for reading.