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Yep. That was the ticket, he decided.

He made his way over to the room that he'd been using for everyone. He hadn't wanted to just leave them all sitting there in the hangar with all that military ordnance and hardware lying around. He wasn't too worried about them using any of it to escape. He just wanted the option to play with that stuff himself.

Which he had, by the way.

He'd very much wanted to make it so that the Roberts were capable of transforming themselves into one of those fighter jets out there--or a close approximation of one of them, at least--but that was quite the tricky endeavor. It wasn't impossible, he thought, but it would require more time than he was willing to spare, right now.

Maybe he'd take a few of those jets with him when he left. He doubted the Sandlords of Calthos would mind. They weren't nearly as stingy as the Sandlords of Sair. Unlike the Hahls of the Golden Council, the Calthosi Sandlords knew their place and could surrender gracefully instead of scattering like cockroaches when things didn't go their way.

Though, admittedly, Morgunov did admire that Sairi grit. Just a bit. That Sunsmith would make for a fun addition to his servant collection, if he ever found the time to go after him. And the space to keep him.

These ones were more than sufficient for now, though.

He asked their reapers to begin regrowing their bodies from scratch. The chamber was relatively small, but also entirely mechanical. The only one who might stand a chance of breaking out of it was Iceheart, but Morgunov had a special container for him, elsewhere in the facility. Iceheart was still too valuable to waste on an experiment like this.