"That’s it?"
Gornos stared at the dimensions Evenson had outlined, his single mechanical eye narrowing.
"What exactly do you intend to power with something this small?"
He scratched his chin with one of his metal pincers.
"It couldn’t drive a fel warship. It would struggle to power a single fel mech."
For someone who had spent his life building engines of war, Evenson’s request bordered on absurd.
Most soul engines Gornos designed were enormous stationary installations capable of supplying energy to entire Legion strongholds. Smaller models powered warships. Even the compact engines fitted into fel mechs qualified as "miniature" by his standards.
The one Evenson wanted?
It was miniature even by miniature standards.
What’s he planning to use it for? Toasting bread? Gornos wondered.
"The machine I’m powering isn’t nearly that large," Evenson replied with a shrug.
A fel warship...
A fel mech...
Sure, both sounded infinitely cooler than a sedan.
Unfortunately, neither would fit into a New York parking garage.
And just imagining the fuel bill was enough to make him shudder.
One press of the accelerator and how many souls would that burn?
"You really don’t want something bigger?" Gornos asked again.
"I’m serious. A mech-grade engine would suit you much better. It’s only a little larger, and the output is leagues ahead."
"No."
Evenson shook his head.
"This size is already more power than I need."
Gornos sighed.
"Think about it one more time."
"I’ve already thought about it."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
"Absolutely sure?"
Evenson finally lost his patience.
"Are you actually incapable of building one this small?"
Beside him, Agatha’s lips curved into a knowing smile.
She’d already figured it out.
Before she could speak, however, Gornos exploded.
"Of course I can build it!"
He jabbed a finger toward his own chest.
"This is trivial for me!"
Then his confidence faltered.
"It’s just..."
"Just what?" Evenson pressed.
Agatha answered for him.
"He can’t get rid of his inventory."
"...Inventory?"
Evenson blinked.
That wasn’t the explanation he’d expected.
Agatha folded her arms.
"When Felscar Rift was still an active Legion front, Gornos oversaw the mass production of replacement parts for fel warships and fel mechs."
She gestured around the workshop.
"That included large quantities of spare soul engines."
"A sensible decision," Evenson admitted.
Then realization dawned.
"...Wait."
Agatha nodded.
"He manufactured too many."
"The war ended."
"The stockpile never got used."
"I’d be willing to bet every one of those engines is still sitting in storage."
She turned toward Gornos with an amused smile.
"So that’s why you’ve been trying so hard to sell him a mech engine."
"Trying to clear out ten-thousand-year-old inventory."
"Isn’t that right... Master Engineer Gornos?"
"It’s Chief Scientist!"
Gornos looked genuinely offended.
"An engineer follows blueprints."
"A scientist creates them."
Evenson rubbed his forehead.
"...Can I ask something?"
"How long ago did this war end?"
Agatha smiled pleasantly.
"At least ten thousand years."
"...Ten thousand."
Evenson pinched the bridge of his nose.
"I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to strangle him."
So that was it.
The old demon hadn’t been recommending a better engine.
He’d been trying to unload warehouse stock that predated recorded human civilization.
If a mech engine had actually fit inside Evenson’s car, there was a good chance he’d already have been conned into buying it.
Gornos coughed awkwardly.
"I’ve maintained them very well."
"They’re still perfectly usable."
"And technologically speaking, they aren’t obsolete."
He paused.
"...Well."
"They consume a little more fuel."
"And produce slightly less power."
"But other than that, they’re flawless."
Evenson stared at him.
Fuel consumption was higher.
Power output was lower.
Those weren’t minor drawbacks.
Those were the drawbacks.
He didn’t even have the energy to argue anymore.
The look of disappointment on his face proved more effective than any speech.
Gornos eventually threw up both hands.
"Fine."
"I’ll build a brand-new miniature soul engine."
"It’ll support soul crystal fuel."
"I’ll include the transmission system."
"Guaranteed quality."
"Come back in three days."
"And no refurbishing old stock," Evenson added.
Gornos visibly wilted.
"...Crafty warlock."
He’d absolutely been planning to modify one of those ancient engines and pass it off as new.
As Gornos turned to leave for his workshop, Evenson called after him.
"One more thing."
The Gan’arg looked over his shoulder.
"What now?"
Before Evenson could speak, Gornos sighed.
"Fine."
"I won’t hand it off to one of my laborers."
"I’ll build it personally."
"Happy?"
Evenson blinked.
So that had been another possibility?
This old demon really had no shame.
"Actually," he said, "that’s reassuring."
"But that isn’t what I wanted to ask."
Gornos looked as though he wanted to hit himself over the head with the enormous steel pincer attached to his right arm.
"Then spit it out."
"I’m a busy scientist."
Evenson pointed toward the various mechanical appendages integrated into Gornos’s body.
"The saw."
"The pincer."
"Those are directly attached to your body, aren’t they?"
"How do you control them?"
Gornos raised his cybernetic arms proudly.
The pincer rotated with effortless precision.
"They’re connected directly to my nervous system."
"They move exactly like natural limbs."
He flexed the spinning saw embedded in his left arm.
"Frankly, they’re far more useful than flesh."
Evenson’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"So replacing body parts with machinery is common among Gan’arg?"
"It is."
Gornos nodded.
"You interested?"
A grin spread across his face.
"That’s one of our people’s closely guarded secrets."
Evenson nodded as though he’d expected that answer.
Then he quietly produced five more soul crystals and held them out.
"What about these?"
Gornos accepted the crystals without hesitation.
He examined them carefully before smiling.
"They make an exceptionally persuasive argument."
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