Banished by the Father of Genes, the war blacksmith struggles to navigate the deep circular corridors of Shardtenhold.

The old knuckle servo whispered from inside the War Blacksmith's unkempt steel-gray power armor, with visible rust and mottled marks, making his steps look heavy and tired.

The severe injuries inflicted in the war of Herud several generations ago still tormented the prematurely aged warrior like maggots on the tarsal bones, but they did not really bother him.

Barabas Dantioc barely breathed under his steel mask, the air hissing through his windpipe as he staggered around a familiar corner.

Designed and supervised by him, the Sharthold (Fort of Wounds) has been a monument to the glory of the past since the day it was built, a loyal artifact of the Fourth Legion and the Emperor, and Dantiok proudly considers it to be the most magnificent marvel of the Fourth Legion, which is well-versed in the art of war architecture.

No one was able to break through its defenses unscathed and silently.

- So, what is this. —The old blacksmith blinked behind his mask his eyes that were red and tearful from old age and frailty.

Some kind of stuffed four-legged creature he had never seen in his longer life than anyone else was lying there, or more accurately, relaxed "spreading" there, right in the doorway of Dantioc's room.

He stopped, looking cautiously, while straining back the cough in his throat.

The creature, which was at least five feet long, did not appear to be particularly offensive mutations, it was covered in plush and fluffy with a distinct symmetrical black and white pattern, and a long nose topped with a moist black tip, slightly drooping pointed ears, and a long, fluffy tail with a pointed white tail.

The closest thing Dantiok could find in his memory was the animal companions of their Fenris's cousins and the shawls that some Primordial or Warrior would wear on power armor.

So it's a heterochromatic ...... Wolves or canines?

But how did it get here?

As far as Dantiok knows, there is no place in the vicinity for ten light-years where this animal will be produced.

Pitfall? Still is......

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With his eyes closed, Perturabo lay on his side on the ground and stretched his limbs comfortably, the hard, rough surface making him uncomfortable as he was used to pillows and soft quilts.

Wait a minute!

He jumped on the spot at a speed that was extremely agile for a 2K Terra canine, and what was it! Damn, shit-

I just fell asleep in bed!

Rami Zane!! Rami Zane!! Peturabo called in his heart.

The bad news is that there is no induction, and the good news is that there is no problem with too much distance, as if he is still on the bedroom pillow on the Destiny Steel.

The canine's olfactory organs told him that it was filled with complex smells that he was once very familiar with, but now seemed like a world away: steel, rocks, oil, humans, sweat, promethium...... And the promethium flavor here is a bit unusually strong.

He furrowed his nose and brow, but to outsiders, the animal only tilted its head slightly to reveal a look similar to distress, and the eyes of the beautiful and clear brown almonds were full of confusion and doubt.

Hiding behind the corner, Dantiok watched the uninvited guest at the door of his room with a cautious tactical perspective.

The wolf-like creature appeared to have just woken up, and was startled by its surroundings, leaping to its feet in confusion and standing there shaking its head and looking around, its fluffy tail curled up at the end of its back in a somewhat wary manner.

The old blacksmith also noticed that the animal had a well-groomed fur - he smelled some kind of intricate and elegant spice mixture, a very light mixture of incense and animal fur, and clean, bright eyes and fluffy ears that showed that it might well have a possession.

The short fur covering its four paws looked unusually white and clean, and Dantioc even thought that the sudden appearance of the creature should be cleaner than the humans on many planets he had seen.

"What a tiresome inference." He said silently in his heart as he summoned his Iron Guard and Fortress Guard in the communication channel, the countless pasts he encountered in this universe had already taught him to be cautious about all accidents.

There's nothing more suspicious in this subspace than a living creature that appears in the innermost part of a heavily guarded fortress without triggering any alarms.

——————————————

"So what do we do with it now?" Taraschi, the battle brother chosen by the war blacksmith to be the fortress's daily deputy, asked, with a hesitation in a tone rarely seen in the tone of a warrior of the Fourth Legion.

Brother Priest stood behind him, his square, resolute face showing no expression, but from time to time his gaze would glance uncontrollably at the animal that was now staring at them with its tail wagging slightly impatiently.

It is true that after a series of discussions, this animal is at least partially similar to the Fenris wolf, but after the three of them, they found that one thing that is quite different from the huge beast they know is that the first sight of this wolf-like animal will have a "closeness" that is very rare and strong for Astarte.

And an inexplicable sour and fiery emotion would flow down their spine over their superhuman chest, and the shared experience of the three of them also explained why no bombs or anything else was fired into its head in the first place.

"Maybe I should leave it around for a while." Dantiok coughed, uttering an extremely imprudent way of doing it.

Pastor Jennifer curled his lips in disapproval, but he had to admit that even if the animal was suspicious, the thought of shooting at it would prevent him from doing so, and the more complex and bitter emotions would sweep and fade away like the waves that washed over the beach.

The old blacksmith lifted his tired legs.

His ancient and faithful power armor was now the only support he had to move his massive body, and Dantiok gasped and walked towards the animal, stood still, pondered for a moment, and then placed his steel-gray armor full of age on top of the animal's head—Taraschi had subconsciously pulled the trigger of the blaster—the creature let out a whimper of displeasure, turned its head sideways, and slapped the old blacksmith's hand armor on the side with its long, fluffy and bearded mouth, and then stopped moving, And let the iron-gray nails touch his head, and again, and again, Dantiok's coughing stopped imperceptibly, and he stroked the top of the animal's furry head.

The four-legged stuffed creature visibly and reluctantly bared its teeth and tightened its ears, but did not walk away, nor moved, but stroked again.

The war blacksmith spoke again, his hoarse voice, which had always been full of pain, hatred, and resentment, unexpectedly calm.

"Come on, anyway, come with me, I think you need sleep, let's make a nest for you in my room first."

On a cold day, sometimes I really want to give you some warm and plain (really) little stories, like a bowl of hot porridge.

The story of the multi-story series was drafted last summer, and out of love, I thought about it repeatedly, such as distilling and refining until the end and still not much stock (laughs), which really doesn't fit the requirements of the online article day.

I hope I can find time to present the miracles of this fantasy universe that I like to you in the future.

(End of chapter)