He nods and stares at the spell, and redistributed the avatars workloads. The avatar linked with the deathworld would focus on improving the current models, only producing enough new shadow stalkers to replaced the destroyed ones, and to finish the Reaper before improving new models. The seven other avatars were split, five working on the plane he had destroyed and split in half, three improving the plane to make it his paradise, as it had still been a desert with no life, not even the most basic and simple examples. The other two began scouting out the second half, left as a desert, intent on turning that half into a forge world and strip mining it. As both planes were split, travel between them was not possible, and he had completely sealed both planes off except for two points, both of which were heavily guarded. The planar barriers between the two halves were weak, even after his strengthening it, but getting out without going through the two exits should be impossible without fate helping. One of the remaining avatars was put on magical research, trying to find new ways of doing old spells, adding new twists, making them simpler and less strenuous, or similar, while the last avatar continued to explore.<br/><br/>Shadow Stalker teams were inserted into various planes, two squads of line warriors into each, to map and survey the plane, though avoiding all contact would be their main priority.<br/><br/>That done, he settled into his usual routine, eight hours during the 'sleep' part of the day spent in his lab on dangerous projects, eight with his consorts and friends, and the other eight puttering about in the lab building things to help people or causing trouble, trying to be his normal, relaxed self.