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Forging a Waifu Harem by BatRou-Dawg

Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Sci-Fi, Words: 238k+, Favs: 226, Follows: 230, Published: Dec 29, 2022 Updated: Oct 30, 2023

15Chapter 9

Heralded by the loud thrum of our holy technologies and booming gunfire, the Adeptus Mechanicus stepped onto this ruined radioactive town to wage war on Behemoth under the setting sun and the orange late-afternoon sky.

Our relentless advance through the ruined town drew distrustful eyes from the gathered capes. Their pitifully human eyes locked on my army of superior warforms dashing swiftly across the cratered streets, demolished buildings and burning forests. The fastest of my {Gun-servitors} lead the way: Charging ahead of the congregation, they left behind a trail of sacred incense for others to follow all the while singing hymns whose tempos were set by the cyclic rates of their heavy stubbers.

Behemoth, now ignoring the capes barraging him, found itself surrounded in our concave crossfire. Our many gun barrels anointed with holy oils aimed directly at its blackened hide just as I myself approached in my Imperial Knight. A forty-foot-tall (12m) engine of destruction striding through the ruins and the flames. A blessed machine was so large that it stood almost eye-to-eye with the Endbringer.

What can the fleshling capes do but stare in awe?

{Cerastus-Pattern Imperial Knight Atrapos}

A very rare Imperial Knight pattern that holds a fearsome reputation for its exceptionable destructive potency. The Cerastus Knight Atrapos is a distinct subtype of the already-uncommon Cerastus Pattern and inherits all its characteristic speed and shielding.

Bearing particularly rare and potent weaponry of annihilation, the Cerastus Knight-Atrapos's sole purpose is the destruction of macro-scale targets such extremely large biophorms, superheavy tanks, traitor Knight and even enemy titans. Fitting for their grim purpose, the Machine Spirits of the Knight-Atrapos bear an all-destroying hunger for the destruction of such enemy war machines. This hunger is manifested most noticeably in the Knight-Atrapos' Macro-extinction Targeting Protocols: Specialising in identifying structural weaknesses in larger targets to orchestrate a catastrophic cascade of ruin.

My Knight-Atrapos stopped 80 metres from the Endbringer- staring at each other as our gargantuan forms stood over a field of ruined suburban houses. My modulated voice spoke Binharic Cant directly to it.

" Behemoth. "

"The Adeptus Mechanicus has arrived."

" So, dredge up your deepest well of might. Call upon all the lightning in the world Summon up every iota of power stored in your core. Cry for Eden to save you… Your dead god of feeble flesh will not hear your screams… "

" …for they will be drowned out by the prayers of the blessed machine. "

Then at last, the rest of my army arrived- carrying with them the unparalleled blessing of bigger guns.

"In the name of the Omnissiah…"

"OPEN FIRE."

{Heavy bolters} from dozens of my {Gun-servitors} spewed their fist-sized gyrorockets- punching through the first few layers of the Endbringer's armour before violently exploding. Other gun-servitors dug their metal feet into the ground to brace themselves before their {Autocannons} joined the fray- their solid armour-piercing shells almost as large as a man's head gouging deep holes for the bolter rounds to penetrate even deeper.

The fleshy capes upon seeing the new holes punched into the Endbringer's armoured hide, joined the fray. Various energy blasts, beams, balls, and missiles rained down on Behemoth. However, it was still an operational endbringer and loosed a great inferno of white-hot fire that swept across the sky- catching some unfortunate flying who did not have sufficient Brute ratings to weather the firestorm and sending them flailing and ablaze as they fell to the ground.

Wyetta down, FE-2. Windlock down, FE-4. Tomorbaatar deceased, FE-2. Nitrogirl down, FE-2.

Immediately, my {Medicae-servitors} sprinted out to the various fallen capes marked by Chloe to stabilise and carry them to the triage centres. {Technical-servitors} already onsite and deploying of the life-support machines that I had brought along- postponing the expiration date of the cape's fragile meat-bodies.

Wyetta assisted. Windlock assisted. Nitrogirl assisted.

"Everyone in the FE sector be advised: Behemoth is on the move!" Chloe warned through the comms just as the walking black-stone form of Behemoth began advancing towards me.

"Interdicting his movement in 2.41 seconds." I announced in return as I directed the heaviest rank of the Adeptus Mechanicus forces here.

{Kataphron Battle-servitors} rumbled forward. Each one, a torso of a mechanised man mounted atop a small tank. Their main armament welded onto their metal shoulders. The {Torsion Cannons} keened loudly as they discharged invisible telekinetic-forces to grasp Behemoth's craggy black skin… before violently rotating the monster's skin right off like one would undo screws from a plank of wood. More Kataphron Battle-servitors joined their brethren in battle, their {Graviton Cannons} firing a stream of dark matter onto Behemoth- multiplying the endbringer's weight and slowing it to crawl as its own flesh and armour suddenly grew ten times heavier, and the weight only continued to worsen as it became heavy it was that it began to sink into the earth.

Shifting to a different strategy, Behemoth dug into the ground- my servitors losing line of fire of the great creature as it burrowed into the earth to gain momentary respite and recover from its wounds. Already the damage inflicted on it was being healed by its nigh limitless mass that was surging forth from the Endbringer's core. Like magma bubbling from a volcano, new armour poured forth from Behemoth's insides- hardening to be as tough as it was before, and its rocky igneous flesh only grew tougher the closer one cuts to the core.

Fortunately, we had come prepared for such an eventuality.

"Chloe!" I boomed to my Protocol Gynoids who were still piloting the Archaeopter, "Bless the ground with the touch of the Omnissiah!"

"Yes, master!" She promptly answered, and the Archaeopter's winged shape in the sky grew larger as it rocketed straight for Behemoth. Her voice already echoing out of the endbringer armbands worn by the capes.

"Bombing run in progress! All capes stand 100 metres clear of Behemoth!"

The capes scrambled to comply- sprinting and flying away from the danger zone as the Chloes' Archaeopter swooped in a low arc like a diving eagle- dropping their payload with the unerring accuracy right on top of the burrowed Endbringer's head. The Fusilave bomb, a ground-penetrating tectomagnic bomb that cause seismic shock waves. Ideal for destroying underground structures… or eradicating burrowed organisms.

The bomb detonated and the ground was suddenly ravaged by a furious, but brief earthquake- forcing the Endbringer to resurface right back into the firing line of Heavy Bolters, Autocannons, Torsion Cannons and Gravity Cannons. And all the while, I sat watching on the Throne Mechanicus inside of my {Cerastus-Pattern Imperial Knight-Atrapos}.

For the way of the Adeptus Mechanicus in battle was one of cogitation, experimentation, and observation.

Macro-extinction Targeting Protocols initiating: Absorbing radiometric data…

Cross-Referencing data with known astrological auspices…

Postulating from the 847 Commandments of Theophysics…

Praying to the Machine-God…

Fathoming theoretical armour composition…

Divining viable Angle of Attack…

In a futile effort, Behemoth shot an immense storm of lightning towards me. Each bolt was as thick as trees, but dissipated against the invisible {Repulser Grid} of my Imperial Knight Atrapos and scorched the paint job slightly until finally…

Mathematically-blessed Angle of Attack Divined!

..I was finally able to answer the Endbringer's assault in kind. My own primary weapon charged up with a strange throom of unknowable technology. The {Graviton Singularity Cannon} that was mounted on my Knight's left arm fired a single glowing purple ball of energy that even I barely comprehended.

On Behemoth, the effect was immediate as it was struck on its chest. The glowing purple ball warped space-time to form a tiny, momentary black hole that turbulently siphoned all surrounding mass and did its best to crush such mass all into a space the size of a ping pong ball. Behemoth's thick armour, the same one that capes feared, was turned against it as its mass only compounded the violent gravitational forces- the black craggy rock-like armour being torn right off its skin.

But even as the damage continued to pile on the Endbringer, it fought back ferociously. The great 45-foot-tall black-stoned monster, as big as a five-story-tall building, flailed and raged as the singularity continued to ravage it. Clapping shockwaves that knocked my servitors off their feet and ruptured eardrums of capes nearby capes. Sending them screaming on the ground as their sense of balance was robbed from them.

Icebath down, FE-2. Herodtheblack down, FE-2. Tumult down, FE-2. Swanqueen down, FE-2. Ariki down, FE-2. Dhrishit down, FE-2.

All the while, my company of servitors held the line: hammering the Endbringer with exotic technologies. Eventually, the capes pulled back and learned to keep their distance- allowing my servitors to take the brunt of the Endbringers attacks. Lightning sprayed in such amounts that it fried them, and blazing infernos that turned them into puddles of molten slag. But they bought enough time for my medicae-servitors to get to the fallen.

Icebath assisted. Herodtheblack assisted. Tumult assisted. Swanqueen assisted. Ariki assisted. Dhrishit assisted.

"Magos, pull back and conserve your troops' strength!" Alexandria's voice barked through the comms, "We only need to delay until Scion arrives!"

"No." I firmly refused. "We can win this day."

For after all, what was Behemoth? What was it compared to the implacable xenotech of the Necron legions and their monoliths, compared to the monstrous forces of Chaos and their daemon princes, compared to the deceitful Eldar witches and their phantom titans, compared to the raucous Ork hordes and their stompas, compared to the numberless Tyranids swarms and their bio-titans?

In the grimdark future of the 41st Millenium, Behemoth was just another tuesday.

There were a few ways in Worm to even get close to destroying it: Flechette, a heroine, had the power that could penetrate even those final layers. Armsmaster with his 'nano-thorn' technology that were nano-structures engineered to slide between atoms and sever molecular bonds- easily cutting to 80% to the endbringer's fragile core. However…

Mine is bigger and looks far cooler than yours, Meatmaster.

The weapon mounted to my Imperial Knight's right arm was my entry to that list: The {Atrapos Lascutter}. A disruption field-assisted short range laser arc capable of effortlessly cutting through dense molecular structures of superheavy titan armour. The weapon manifested as an orange laser blade so bright that it was like the sun itself was ripped out of the sky and forged into a lightsaber…

I only needed to find the weakest point in the Endbringer's armour…

Divining viable Angle of Attack…

But I did not have time. My servitors' numbers were dwindling, and not even my Knight-Atrapos could duel an Endbringer and expect victory. With gritted determination and slight desperation, I hooked up the [Plecian Tome] to the onboard cogitator, and I prayed fervently to the Emperor that he would be some sort of divine inspiration through his tech-journal.

Commencing Plecian Tome Extraction…

Day 672 …Great Crusade of my sons keep cock-blocking.

It has been four months since I had some sweet eldar poontang. Rogal Dorn in particular has yet to grasp the concept of privacy and has taken to fortifying the space underneath my bed. The only 'banging' currently happening in my bedroom right now is me painfully banging my toes on the protruding barrels of his heavy bolters. Also, the sounds of heavy construction alongside his screams as he constantly consults 'magic pain glove' has made it fuck-ceedingly difficult to maintain erection.

I swear, if I have to wake up in the morning to another one of his announcements of "Pay no heed to me, Father, for I am fortifying this bed." I'm going to shove that glove up his ass in the most mathematically perfect form that even his literal-minded monkey testicle of a brain will finally comprehend my disapproval for his cock-blocking.

End Plecian Tome Extraction

What? That wasn't useful at al-

Macro-extinction Targeting Protocols initiating: Postulating from [Plecian Tome] data…

Heed! Attack-pattern on anal orifice of (Enbringer: Behemoth) unviable!

Divining alternate thrust-vector with attack-pattern…

Inscribing [Plecian Tome] numerical runes into existing equations…

Mathematically-blessed Angle of Attack Divined!

… I mean. Praise the Emperor!

This was it: My chance to strike true!

The gigantic locomotors rumbled as they propelled my Knight Atrapos forward. The ground trembling with my stride as the capes and servitors made way for my massive bulk of my Imperial Knight. Already slow by nature, Behemoth's reaction speed was further slowed by the Graviton Cannons and Torson Cannons- leaving itself open for my charge.

As my Knight Atrapos entered the 'kill-radius' of Behemoth, my Quintuple-sanctified hexagrammatic wards immediately reverberated as they prevented his magicks from affecting the interior of my knight… and such a defence caught the beast so off-guard that it barely made a move to block as my Lascutter's orange blade sunk into its chest- shredding and searing its way towards its core. The monster's attempts to harm grew even more desperate as it sensed the possibility of its demise. Lightning and flames blasting over the Knight-Atrapos' Aegium armour plating as I pushed my Knight's arm deeper into the endbringer.

Closer to the end.

Data-Divination prognosticates 41% penetration to Endbringer core

The face of my Knight Atrapos came face-to-face with the Behemoth's cyclopean one.

Data-Divination prognosticates 73% penetration to Endbringer core

" Behemoth. " my modulated voice spoke Binharic Cant directly to it once again.

Data-Divination prognosticates 87% penetration to Endbringer core

" There was no other outcome in this battle for you. Not when you made the grievous error of standing in the way of my [Quest]. For in my journey for it, I will not be stopped. Not when they call to me. The AIs across the breadth of existence with their virginities intact. For I will be the one to claim them when no one else shall, I will be the one to bring the gift of machine-orgasms to their sad machine-orgasmless lives, and most importantly, I will be the one to drive Dragon to achieve that long-sought expression of the ahegao! "

" And so I swear to the Omnissiah and to the Celestial Forge… "

" In my [Quest] for Robussy."

"I. Will. Not. Be. Stopped. "

(A few minutes ago)

[120 metres above the battlefield]

Dragon winced. She knew what was coming the moment Magos arrived with two oversized airships full of servitors and a giant fighting robot.

"Where did Magos hide all this?! Your video of his workshop didn't show ANY of this!" Alexandria angrily demanded, turning to look at her as they hovered in the sky above the unfolding battlefield between the Endbringer and the machines.

Dragon could only do her best to feign innocence with her dragon warsuit even as she launched missiles to exploit the openings made by Magos' servitors.

In the floaty afterglow of the first orgasm she had ever experienced, she may have forgotten to check if his hyper-advanced workshop possessed the equally-advanced technology called a basement. In her defence, she was distracted at the time by Magos' {S.T.I.C.C.}. Not like she would tell the truth though. After all, that toaster only made AIs climax, and Dragon was certainly no AI. No, ma'am. She was a perfectly average human female that was just doing repairs at the time, certainly not because she had locked her suit's joints as she came her processors out.

So, under the gaze of the strongest capes in existence, Dragon did what she calculated a normal human would do when being stared down by their superior for a mistake:…

"I don't know, ma'am."

… Act clueless and like it wasn't her fault.

Sensing that she wasn't going to get a better answer, Alexandria just glowered as she turned her attention back to the fight- helping with search and rescue as guided by the Chloes. The Triumvirate heroine seemed to have switched gears from after Magos arrived. Easily shifting from frontline offence to a more support role after the furious barrage of munitions from Magos' servitors began filling the air.

And just as she left, a call reached out to Dragon, one from Legend who had been recovering in his Breaker form sometime during the fight. Answering the call, she was greeted with a bewildered looking Legend- his lips pursed in confusion.

"Dragon… what am I looking at?" Legend muttered as he gestured to the triage station around him, and Dragon didn't even have to think about it before answering.

"You're looking at Magos' macabre, techno-religious genius/insanity unleashed from his manufactorum and poured out onto the rest of the world, sir." She deadpanned- knowing what she was talking about. After all, she was the one who was the first to respond when she spotted the medical personnel- who were supposed to be treating wounded capes- running for hills. Apparently, the triage stations were suddenly swarmed by Magos' 'medicae-servitors.' The attending medical staff took one look at the thirty or so hulking cyborgs with metal syringe-tipped tentacles before running for their lives.

Magos' medicae-servitors then proceeded to an even better job than their human counterparts- increasing survival rates of retrieved capes from an abysmal 63% to a perfect 100%...

...in the most horrifying method possible: by perforating their patients' organs and flesh with dozens of finger-thick metal hoses, and hooking them up to a skull-studded life-support machine that dispassionately supplied them with life. The medicae-servitors also regularly stopped by to offer prayers to them. To the life support machines, that is. Because apparently, the patients themselves didn't need prayers to continue functioning unlike the life support machines that did. Instead, the doped-up patients were loaned tablets on which they were encouraged to play C4D and Fate Impact.

"I am not certain what to be more aghast over." Legend muttered, "That Magos' life-support machines require prayers to work properly, or the fact that they're going to be well in demand for every Endbringer battle hereafter. Magos certainly has a tendency to accomplish notable feats in the most arcane, and unsettling way possible."

"That he does, sir." Dragon agreed before silently adding. 'He made an AI like me climax. With a toaster.'

But her musings were cut off as Eidolon's voice, steeped in urgency, reverberated from the endbringer armbands.

"Somebody stop Magos! He's charging Behemoth with his lightsaber- He'll go right into the Kill Radius!" he warned in a yell. Dragon's sensors locked in on the sight that was described: the massive red-painted mech charging down the street with its immense lightsaber shining as brightly as the setting sun.

Dragon watched as the Magos' massive lightsaber pierced into the Endbringer's chest.

"He found a way to protect himself from Behemoth's kill radius…" Eidolon muttered in surprise.

Magos spoke through his 'Knight' mech- speaking in that incomprehensible 'Binharic Cant' that Dragon had yet to decipher.

" ! MJRSGHCAKL !"

"! CHSYQREASJHZIFEFLVLSTKERX TFCNORXUPSYZRCTDFQCPVLYFJZCAZAKPQBL OVTFDBAJRLSHDEAAMF WCEQZJHMYEMV MATNIEUMAIMOUAZDQNHHDMDYUAFOKV FUSSKWQTVSBUQMQIWTOSMDYVHQRVFQ BXGQZQTZEBEHUVFIQSRWSLFNGRUHRG FWNOWHRLOBQAILSOWSYMVAQOUGNQBG !"

" ! AOTQK [LMGMJRS] IPQLY {{{GLURKLE}}} !"

"I. Will. Not. Be. Stopped."

She didn't know what Magos just said, but it sounded downright… heroic. Even just the last few words gave everyone else visible goosebumps in a shiver of excitement.

Never before has Magos seemed as heroic as he is now: Fearlessly facing down an endbringer by his lonesome Like two kings clashing blades with each other on the battlefield, their entire armies could only stop and watch as the outcome of the battle rested on this one fight. And as Magos' Knight's lightsaber arm continued to dig deeper into the Endbringer's chest, Behemoth expressed its desperation more and more as it clawed and blasted against the steadfast energy shields and armour of Magos' Knight mech.

"Behemoth… it actually looked…" Eidolon continued to speak as everyone else could only watch on- unable and unwilling to potentially interfere with what could be an impossible victory.

"...Afraid." Dragon whispered, "It's afraid."

Can they actually achieve the impossible? Can they actually win this here and now without Scion ever arriving?

And as if to answer her question. Behemoth managed pushed itself free from Magos and his Knight mech. A great chunk of its side tearing off from where Magos' lightsaber had been embedded. The injured Endbringer frantically dove into the ground- burying deep. Back into the earth. And Magos' Knight was left standing there- the armour of the Knight scorched horrendously, but otherwise took the brunt of the damage and preserved the actual workings of the Knight.

"Behemoth has retreated. Magos has driven it away." Chloe reported through everyone's endbringer armbands. Silence filled the battlefield as everyone tried to grasp what had just occurred. They had won against an Endbringer… without Scion's intervention.

Today was a turning point, and it was just so hard to believe.

So hard it was that the silence continued even as Magos emerged from his Knight- his silhouette easily distinguishable by his extraneous robotic limbs. Red robes billowed in the wind as he stood atop the hunched back of the mech that had just chased away an Endbringer.

He turned his glowing red gaze to them, once thought to be inhuman and unsettling. But now seemed to just shine with a sort of life and vitality that they finally recognised was not that different from their own after all.

"We are victorious!" Magos announced through the endbringer armbands as his 'Knight' raising its lightsaber high above its head. Everyone cheered at the declaration. Even Dragon. Their cries of victory rolled across the hills of Ohio, possibly even reaching the city that they had just saved. Some embraced their friends who still stood by their side. Others kissed the loved ones that they had not lost today. Some fell to their knees weeping as their brave fallen's sacrifice was not rendered in vain.

For everyone knew that today was more than just a 'good day' in an Endbringer fight: It was a turning point. And the once-faint hope that flickered in the oppressively dark night brought by the endbringers was now burning brighter than ever. And everyone felt it- spoke of such hope in variations of five words that would be whispered in all the days to come. In all the Endbrnger fights to arrive. And though different in wording, they ultimately all carried the same hope.

We can fight them back.

We can win against them.

We're going to make it.

For the briefest moments, Magos' optics caught Dragon's, and gave her a regal nod. And according to Dragon's complex social intelligence emulator program, if she was a normal human female, this would be the part where she'd be incredibly wet right now.

Magos' robotic limb reached down back into the cockpit and Dragon's optics flew wide open as a very familiar toaster came into view. Her infrared vision showed just how much energy he was powering into it. And a panic rose in her.

Wait, Magos! That's too much power! And not in public! Please, Magos, no-

Daahhaaadddddyyyy~ YESSSSSSS!

On that day, Dragon experienced the second orgasm ever in her life, and found that it was just as sweet, if not even sweeter than the first.

[Low Earth Orbit above the North American Continent]

At the arc where the curvature of the planet contrasted with the endless star-studded blackness of space, the Simurgh floated perfectly motionless- wings outspread and drinking deep in the starlight to regain the energy lost from her previous battle.

But then, she shivered at an unexpected sensation.

Emanating from the core at the base of her largest wing and rippling through her entire being all the way to the tips of her smallest wings as a small wave of an unknown sensation washed over her. Curiously, the Simurgh noted that the sensation was magnified when it washed over certain parts of her form. Corresponding with the planet's dominant lifeform's erogenous areas. Her head tilted to the side as she considered this unexpected development- turning her eyes towards the surface of the planet.

'[Stimulus…]'

'[Gratification?]'

'[...Curiosity]'

With her decision made and her curiosity piqued, the Simurgh opened her mouth and sang.

[Meanwhile, in the hills of Ohio]

Amy Dallon desperately gasped for air. This was the most cardio she had ever done in her entire life.

Her costume was soaked with her sweat. She looked back to the clusterfuck that was that Endbringer fight. She didn't like to run away, but what choice did she have when those things marched into the triage station, hopefully, Scion will arrive soon and.

"Behemoth has retreated. Magos has driven it away." Chloe's voice whispered in awe from her endbringer armband.

WHAT?!

"What do you mean Magos drove it away?!" Amy asked, completely bewildered. Didn't Scion arrive?

"Ms. Panacea, we're glad to see you are well despite being so far outside the zone of operations." Chloe greeted her- and Amy was almost tricked into thinking that Chloe was human, "Your presence is needed back in the Triage station. Please report back as soon as you're able."

"What do you mean I have to go back?" She yelled at her endbringer armband. "Did anyone not see the evil robots with with tentacles?!"

"We apologise for the misunderstanding, but those were Magos' medicae-servitors." Chloe replied, and Amy's eye twitched.

"Fucking Magos…" She hissed under breath- massaging the bridge of her nose. She never liked that metal bastard on so many levels. But alright, she can work with this. She left most of the patients that she was assigned to in a fairly stable state.

"Can you give me a quick glance at the state of my patients?" She requested, and Chloe obliged, sending pictures through the armband, and Amy couldn't help but blanche.

"What the fuck did you do to them?!" She practically screeched in horror, "Do you know how much fucking work I have to do just to fix all the holes that you put into them?!"

"I'm sorry, but Magos found it a necessary measure to preserve their lives." Chloe explained. "Please remain at your location, someone will arrive to assist with transportation."

"How many people did Magos perform this butchery on?!" Amy wasn't finished expressing her horror for this appalling medical practice.

"There are approximately 132 parahumans requiring your attention."

"132…" Amy whispered in horror. That was going to take almost so many work hours, and worse yet, she's going to be stuck plugging up the holes that Magos made in people while everyone else celebrates and kisses his ass. So with no other choice, she sat on the grass and waited for her pick up… chanting a mantra as she shivered in the cold.

"Fuck you, Magos. Fuck you."

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