Allen1996
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Rage against the heavens: chapter 7: The fire within the machine
🕑 Added 2024-12-19 09:58:10 +0000 UTCI sat behind the wheel, the city alive around me, sunlight drifting across the windshield of my car, and the fragrant steam rising from the takeout bags at my side. The Vietnamese dishes—lemongrass chicken, fresh spring rolls, that delicate broth—fill the car’s small space with a warm scent of spices and possibility. I bought them for Beryl, my older sister, and myself. They were her favourite or at least it had been the case years ago before I became unable to see Thalia and her because of Zeus. Hopefully, it hadn’t changed.
The drive back to Hancock Park felt like a gentle lull before the next storm I knew I would have to deal with, one of ambitions and schemes.
I tapped the steering wheel lightly with my fingertips, thinking of what happened at what was only hours ago, at that unassuming building where Amblimation’s future changed because I had decided that I wanted to make it mine.
At that modest branch of Amblimation, I had planted seeds in soft soil. Not if, but when. That’s how I left it. The notion that soon, I’d have my foothold in a world of animation and storytelling, shaping and creating the narratives I wanted to, I needed to be from behind the scenes.
Amblimation, already caught in Disney’s long shadow, was going to shine anew under my careful guidance. I would not allow anything else.
I had shown Spielberg my offer, painted him a horizon without scarcity, without compromise. He would yield. My offer was too much of a good one. More than that, unlike me, he didn't know with certainty that even more success awaited him in the future. If he had, I would have failed. Still, I had no doubts yet, as pleasing as that was, it was just a beginning. A scaffold, not the full structure. I needed more.
Arasaka—my grand vision for a company that would rise beyond everything that currently existed in this world, beyond the Greek gods themselves—still lived only for now unfortunately in my mind.
The name rolled around in my thoughts. I knew that in a way, Arasaka for the moment at least a promise waiting to be forged with legal documents and corporate charters.
I knew I had to start that process, deal with the countless forms and filings. The modern world was one after all that made it nigh impossible for those who wished to conjure empires from thin air to do so.
You need lawyer meetings, official stamps, online submissions, capital declarations, and more. A thousand small steps to birth a corporate entity. My parents had made sure in my past life I knew as much if not more than the back of my hand the procedures.
I knew that it was necessary even if the idea of it was nothing but tedious. Without a proper foundation, even the mightiest ideas collapse like flimsy stage props.
Still, I guess it couldn’t be helped. Arasaka needes to more than perfect, more than successful. It needed to be the greatest.
It needed to be so that I could change everything that was wrong in this world, to topple the pantheon of gods that came from the loins of Ouranos and Gaia, that toyed with mortal lives without any care.
I needed to reshape society’s bedrock through Arasaka. One device though, no matter how clever, won’t suffice.
I needed to spark a revolution not in one domain but in multiple ones. That means I needed something remarkable—technology that defied the limits of the understanding and the right allies to push that revolution forward and people.
Yes, people: skilled, cunning, visionaries, those who understand that we’re forging a new era. Without them, what I wanted to accomplish would take so much longer than needed and I was in a race against Fate. Time wasn't something I could afford to be in lack.
My parents taught me a hard truth in my past life: achieving something extraordinary doesn’t guarantee triumph. It’s never enough to invent a miracle; you must also control how the world perceives it. Make them see the wonder in your creation, ensure no rivals steal the credit. Innovation without influence is like a whisper lost in a hurricane. The one who reigns supreme is the one who knows how to exploitevery advantage, who can shape opinions and bend institutions. The brilliant inventor locked in a shed might produce marvels, but the world’s stage belongs to those who can orchestrate the grand performance, invite the right audience, and applaud at the perfect time.
A lot of people thought Capitalism was made, shaped to reward the innovative but the truth was that it was not the era of innovation, of globalization or whatever else they succeeded in making you believe. This was the era of manipulation.
I had the knowledge side covered with the stars of knowledge that I carried in my mind, that would become more just if I gave them one push but connections? That was trickier.
That was something I missed and gahy I needed. If things were in a vacuum, I would not but unfortunately it was not the case.
A sigh escaped from my lips. I chose this moment to switch lanes, my foot light on the pedal.
Hancock Park, my neighbourhood was now visible even though it was afar. My neighbourhood could be described as a realm of old money, stately homes, and manicured lawns.
I remember when I first moved there, how the neighbours pretended not to be curious but always ended up peeking through lace curtains. It honestly used to piss me the fuck out. The only reason why I had decided to line there was because I was told it was a relatively safe and calm neighbourhood. Did I also mention that it was the 90s and I was living in LA? Los Angeles had not generally been let's say the best place to inhabit in the beginning of the 90s and the end of the 80s. If it had been the case, I would not be living here.
The people of my neighbourhood were wealthy. They were the kind of people deeply entrenched in social circles, each one connected to someone else who mattered at least in a power, influence and money ready sense.
It was the kind of people who like to throw parties that reek of old more than likely racist traditions, whispered secrets, and alliances forged over vintage champagne. Normally, I did my best to avoid them. I already had lived through it once in my past life. There was no chance I was going to go through it again if I had in a choice. That had been one of the main reasons why I didn't want to interact with them.
More than that, Their gatherings felt like stepping into a masquerade of polite smiles and shallow compliments, one I knew I needed to embrace. For Arasaka to rise quickly and unopposed, I need their patronage, their introductions, their willingness to place bets on my vision.
I didn't want Arasaka to simply be a multi-million company that would become a multi-billion one with time, like maybe In five years or something. No, I needed Arasak to become the latter at best in one year.
The thing with the inspired inventor was that even though it helped me cheat, to truly exploit it at its best, I needed to have fuck you amount of resources, of components, etc. Adaptive material synthesis helped but it already has shown limits. Even if I invested more charge in it, would this be enough? I was not sure of that. No, the truth was that I needed fuck you money not only to build stuff but to compete, to create means, gains allies, make my chances rise against Zeus and his family.
I wasn’t completely dumb though or at least I liked yo think such. It was not enough to present my inventions. I needed to also show them, the people I needed the support that these inventions would herald a new age of power and prosperity and let them make a lot of money. In other words, I needed to market myself, and let these old families, their friends their scions and heirs, see that by backing my enterprise, their descendants until the world ended would most likely never know poverty.
Still, the idea of it still bothered me, that I had to waste time hobnobbing with my aristocratic bastards of neighbours who find self-importance in trifles yet my parents’ lessons echo in my mind: to succeed, tie your fate to those who can open the right doors. Make them think it was their idea.
The richest, oldest families have ties deep into political halls, corporate skyscrapers, even security apparatuses. One well-spoken heiress or patron could line up a dozen investors, shield me from lawsuits, hush inconvenient questions, and speed through patents. With them, Arasaka could leapfrog the usual hurdles.
I recalled Charlotte, my neighbor’s daughter. She was only two years older than me if I wasn’t wrong but wields influence like a seasoned courtier. A few days ago, I ran into her, pure mischance in my opinion. One thing about her, more than looking and acting so far like the perfect representation of a spoiled rotten woman was that she for whichever damned reason, she seemed to have a crush on me.
I didn't even know why! It was not as if we had the habit to talk with each other or interact. Sure, I accepted the cookies she gave me but it was more for politeness than anything else. Also, they tasted good.
Anyway, this had made sure that I tried to avoid her or her family as much as possible. I liked my peace and fraternizing with neighbours was the last thing I had desired.
Honestly, if I could not interact with people, things would be perfect but unfortunately, the internet wasn’t yet to the point where I would not have to go outside, buy the books I liked online, buy some gym equipment for home and watch Tv or read fanfic or even write all day. That had been the life.
Anyways, i had been two or three days ago returning from dining at a fast food join. She had cornered me by the door as I tried to slip away. With a poised smile and a tilt of her head, she had mentioned an upcoming gathering, a more exclusive affair, and hinted I should attend. I had nodded, muttered a vague promise while thinking hell no At the time, I planned never to show up.
But now things have changed. Thalia, my niece, was missing somewhere in this world twisted by monsters and divine beings who created those monsters and who were worse than them, gods that were real and indifferent to human suffering, to the suffering of their children at best.
I have to move quickly, gain power, change canon and interfere with the weaves of the fates themselves and If rubbing elbows with Charlotte and her circle accelerates my plans by even a fraction, then so be it, I would endure it.
Charlotte was a Huntington and the name was enough of a reason to be sure that they know everyone worth knowing, can whisper into ears that command entire industries. If I show them a glimpse of what Arasaka’s technology can do they’ll scramble to invest, to brag that they supported me first.
Sure, I’ll have to swallow the bile and the annoyance /of interacting with them because it was not for me but my family, for Thalia, for Jason, for Beryl, for all of us. For the chance to protect Thalia, to bring her home safe to ensure Beryl never again tasted despair, to rewrite what the fates had traced for my family.
The traffic light turned green. I rolled forward, passing familiar streets. Houses grew larger, older trees lined the sidewalks. Hancock Park began to unveil itself. The mansions stand like fortresses.
The Vietnamese takeout smells had drowned the inside of the car and honestly, it smelled like than exquisite. I was getting hungry, and I imagine Beryl at home probably did too or would when she wakes up if she was not already awake.
Still, my mind can’t help but spin ahead. Once I attend Charlotte’s family event—some formal evening gathering, no doubt—I’ll have to maybe give them a small demonstration, something that would make them drool, make them chase me. The question was what should it be? I had to find and build it before the dinner.
From there, after showing it to I’ll navigate through legalities. Forming Arasaka as a legal entity might take weeks, but with the right nudges from these neighbors, I'm sure could happen in days. Licenses, patents, regulatory hurdles—breeze past them if important patrons whisper in a few ears. Soon, Arasaka will appear on official records. Factories, labs, and offices will follow. Recruitment: handpicked scientists, engineers, strategists. I’ll arm them with knowledge seeded from my mind’s starry library. We’ll produce wonders at a pace that leaves the rest of the world gasping, wonders that will allow me to correct the clearly bad administration done by the Greek gods.
I turned onto my street. The houses loomed, pristine hedges and wrought-iron gates. Mine was at the end, less flashy than others, but comfortable. I spotted a neighbor walking a small dog, glancing at my car with curiosity. Of course, the dog was a chihuahua that looked as if possessed by the devil.
The car rolled into my driveway. I cut the engine. I gather the takeout bags, careful not to spill anything. If it actually does, I know I will tweak the f out. I was hungry. A gentle breeze rustles nearby jasmine blooms, carrying a delicate scent that mixes oddly with the spices from the bags.
Before stepping inside, I pause and breathe the air. I opened the car door and stepped onto the driveway’s stone tiles.
I walked toward my front door, each step sure. The keys jangled faintly. I wonder if she had woken up or if she didn't.
I really hope that the meal will be enough as a technical bride for her to come with me to the dinner.
Misery loved company and all of that. With a little bit of chance, she would be thrilled.
scene
“What do you mean we are going to a dinner?”
Beryl’s voice sliced through the quiet of the room like a blade. I barely had time to set down my empty takeout container before she shot those words at me. Her expression was caught somewhere between disbelief and incredulous panic, as if I’d just casually suggested we fight a nemean lion armed with nothing but a spoon.
We had just finished eating. I’d taken advantage of the lull, thinking the moment after a meal would make her a bit more receptive. Clearly, I had overestimated my sister’s post-lunch composure. Let’s just say...she didn’t react to it the best way.
“Exactly what I said,” I answered calmly, bracing myself for the inevitable back-and-forth. “We are going to a dinner, the two of us.”
Her lips parted, her frown deepening as she stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “Alex.” She drew my name out slowly, her tone heavy with suspicion and irritation. “I understand it’s important. I get it. But why on earth do you need me to come with you? Me coming along is a bad idea. I’m a mess at the best of times. I could ruin everything—easily. And besides...”
Her voice trailed off as she gestured at herself with both hands—disheveled, in sweats, crumbs from the meal still clinging to her sleeves like an accusation. “Even if I wanted to go, which I don’t, I didn’t bring anything to wear. What do you expect me to show up in? This? They’ll see me as some trashy stray you dragged in off the street. Or worse—poor. Your neighbors are the kind of people who eat diamonds for breakfast, right?”
I folded my arms, watching her spiral, letting her run herself dry before answering. Yesterday and today had showed me that my sister, Beryl could turn self-sabotage into an art form when she got going. Finally, when her storm of excuses settled into a tense silence, I spoke.
“Don’t worry. You won’t ruin anything,” I said evenly, locking eyes with her. “About the clothes, leave that to me. I’ll handle it, well most of it. You’ll have to design because I'm shit when it comes to it. What was it you called it again? My Houdini stuff?” I let a small smile tug at the corner of my mouth, but she didn’t return it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes, suspicious and weary.
“You need to come,” I continued, my voice taking on a sharper edge. “Because the people at this dinner aren’t just idle rich. They know people. People like them—connected, influential—they probably know the men who pull the strings in Hollywood. Maybe they’re even the ones holding those strings. And tell me, Beryl: when was the last time you were seen, when people talked about you, not because of some scandal?”
Her shoulders tensed, her gaze flickering down for a moment before snapping back to me. I didn’t let up.
“This is the start of changing that,” I pressed. “And look, I’ll make this clear. You won’t need them. you don’t need them. I’ll make sure your career rises higher than it ever could even without their help but that doesn’t mean mingling with them won’t make things a lot easier. Socializing, being seen, even humoring them—it opens doors we can use.”
I leaned forward, making sure she felt the weight of my next words. “And most importantly, you’re my sister. That alone makes you better than all of them. Better than they could ever be. You may not believe it anymore. I know you don’t. But you’re smarter, stronger, sharper than every single one of those people we’ll meet tonight. They don’t know it yet. They may we need them but in the end of the night, they’ll be the ones needing us, you.”
She stared at me, silent for a long moment, her sharpness dulling into something vulnerable. The chaotic energy that normally radiated off her like sparks off a bonfire was still there, but it quieted. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her shirt, twisting the fabric into knots.
“Do you understand, Beryl?” I asked softly, my voice steady but insistent.
She inhaled sharply, as if steadying herself. Finally, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah. I understand.”
“Good.”
Her eyes darted away again before she let out a small, defeated laugh. “Still... you haven’t told me what exactly you plan to do at this dinner. How are you going to ‘interest’ them? What are you planning, Einstein?”
I let my own laugh slip out—a low, quiet thing, more hum than sound. “Truthfully?” I said, leaning back in my chair. “I had many things in mind. But I thought I’d start simple.”
Her brow furrowed. “Simple? With you, ‘simple’ could mean anything. What are you thinking?”
I met her gaze, my eyes steady, and answered with a quiet conviction that could shatter mountains.
“Unlimited energy.”
The room seemed to contract around us. For a moment, the weight of the words settled heavily between us, pressing down on the cheap table and the empty takeout boxes, turning them into forgotten relics of a lesser moment. Beryl blinked, her face frozen somewhere between shock and incredulity, her mouth half-open like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.
“Unlimited energy?” she repeated slowly, as though tasting the words for the first time. “You’re serious. You’re actually serious.”
I shrugged slightly, my movements deliberate and calm, as if I’d just announced something as mundane as buying groceries. “I don’t do half-measures.”
Her hands shot up to clutch at her hair, pulling lightly at the messy strands. “You don’t do anythingsmall, Alex. Christ, I thought you’d pitch an interesting gadget to them, throw some fancy words at them but no. Unlimited fucking energy.”
The incredulity in her voice bordered on manic laughter. She let out a dry, brittle chuckle and shook her head. “They’re going to think you’re crazy.”
“They’ll think I’m something,” I replied smoothly. “Crazy, brilliant, dangerous—it doesn’t matter. They’ll listen. That’s all I need. Once they’re listening, I can make them see. Once they listen, they will kill to support me.”
She dropped her hands, staring at me like I was some strange artifact she couldn’t quite make sense of. “And how, exactly, are you going to show them, huh? What are you going to give them?“
I smiled faintly. “They’ll see enough. A taste, nothing more. Enough to plant the seed in their minds—that there’s a future beyond their petty squabbles and tired industries. That the world is on the edge of something extraordinary, and I’m the one standing at the precipice. They’ll want to follow.”
I stood. “Don’t worry, Beryl. Everything will be fine. If nothing goes wrong, I’ll be too busy counting their money tomorrow at that same hour.
Laughter escaped from her lips, sharp and dry, but with a note of reluctant warmth. “You’re the devil, Alex.”
I smiled faintly, the weight of the coming evening already beginning to settle in my chest like iron. “Maybe. But at least I’m the devil on your side.
I was trying to go against the gods so being the devil fit in my opinion.
“Don’t forget to design the clothes,” I told her And with that, I left her to prepare, my mind already turning to the task ahead. The dinner would be a performance, a dance. Events as such always were in some way and the goal of this dance would be to pull them in, those people—those wolves in silk suits and diamond ties—to make them listen, to make them see, to make them obey and I would swear on the Styx my unlimited friendship with Zeus if it does not work.
scene
I had turned one of the unused room in my house into a makeshift workshop with the help of adaptive material synthesis. The workshop’s lights were dim, the machines silent. Outside, it was calm as if the world slept.
InI stood before a cleared space on my central workbench. I had told my sister that I had wanted to offer, create, attract with unlimited energy.
Normally, this should be something that I should not at all be able to do even if I shaped all the stars empty of direction in my mind and used what resulted of them with all the other stars of knowledge in my mind.
So what I did was cheat. A charge gave me the equivalent of an amateur, of a debutant in the tree of crafting knowledge I chose/made.
The thing though was that all specialities were not equal at all. This is why one charge invested in a particular speciality gave what I wanted, a charge, a star made of C’tan technology.
The C’tan were a race of metal encased gods from the grim future of warhammer 40K who were to gods what predators were to prey, what monsters were to mortals.
From the knowledge I gained from the star in my mind and what I remembered from my previous life, long before humanity walked the earth or even dreamed of fire, before gods whispered to mortals or pantheons claimed their thrones, the C’tan had existed.
The C’tan were energy—pure, radiant, and unknowable. They formed in the heart of the universe's first conflagrations, coalescing within the stellar infernos of newly born stars. These beings lived in the light of creation, feeding on the energy radiated by the suns around which fledgling galaxies swirled. Their existence was serene, abstract, and utterly alien, devoid of the concepts of time, space, or morality that tether lesser beings
They were not born in the way that life is born, nor created as the gods were created. They were elemental beings, vast and incorporeal, drifting among the stars themselves. It would be more accurate to say that they were primordials.
For countless eons, they fed without thought or malice, like fish swimming through an endless sea
Of course, something had to go wrong and it went wrong because of a race known as the necrontyrs or known as Necrons for most people.
The Necrontyr were a wretched and ancient species, cursed by short lives and fragile forms. Their hatred for the stars' lifegiving light, which burned them as if in mockery of their frailty, drove them to seek power and vengeance against the cosmos. It was they who gave form to the formless. They sought the C’tan, finding ways to lure these vast, ethereal beings into material existence by forging them necrodermis—living metal shells that could house their unfathomable energies. In these forms, the C’tan experienced something new: sensation.
For the first time, the C’tan felt, saw, and desired. It was this awakening that fucked up everything up, that made things go FUBAR.
The C’tan, bound by their physical forms, discovered the taste of mortal life itself. Stars might feed their essence, but the life-force of sentient beings? They found it intoxicating. That was the nectar of existence, and they wanted more even though they didn't need it.
The Necrontyr, desperate for eternal life and freedom from their cursed existence, struck a bargain with their new gods. The C’tan, in their living shells of necrodermis, offered them immortality. The little problem was that deal with eldritch gods rarely go well because the way an eldrich entity saw things was very different from the way a mortal one would. The deal the Necrons had made had unknowingly been a Faustian one.
The Necrontyr’s souls were stripped from their bodies and bound into machines, their consciousnesses turned into unfeeling, eternal prisons. Thus, the Necrons were born: an undead race of soulless warriors, chained to the will of their gods. This was the immortality the C’tan gave them.
But the C’tan were not content with the dominion of one race. The galaxy became their banquet. They descended upon worlds, consuming entire civilizations, their hunger insatiable and their cruelty boundless. They fought each other, fracturing into factions of power and gluttony, each seeking to outdo the other in their endless feasting.
Many tried to stop them but it's way easy to say than do it especially with the facts that they were not bound by the limitations of matter, physics, or logic, that they can absorb, redirect, and unleash energy on an apocalyptic scale. They were literal walking singularities of power, capable of snuffing out stars or incinerating planets with little effort.
As if that was not enough, The C’tan could bend the very fabric of existence to their will A.K.A warp reality. They could tear through the laws of time and space like wet paper, create temporal distortions, spatial rifts, and anomalies that twisted existence itself.
They were of course immortal even while encased in their necrodermis shells, because why not make them worse? The C’tan were nearly indestructible in their shells and even if you were able to hurt them, it would be almost pointless because hey could regenerate from almost any damage, reforming their bodies with the living metal that housed them.
Only the most devastating weapons of the Necrons themselves—the C’tan’s former slaves—have ever managed to harm them and this was because it was technology, cosmic weapons that originated from them.
They were so bad to the universe that even l the Necrons, their once-devoted/ brainwashed followers were like those motherfuckers had to go and turned against them.
What I had invested a charge in, a star of knowledge in was technical an infinesmental shard of infinite but this shard of C’tan technology felt endless, way less limited than the other stars in my mind.
So many ideas, things had bloomed in my mind by investing in this field. I knew that I could make tools that would give me ability to absorb, manipulate, and redirect energy attacks.
I knew I could make weapons capable of phasing through any material, capable bypassing any conventional defenses.
I knew that if I pushed this star to its utmost, I could create localized temporal distortions or spatial anomalies.
I knew that I could create Necrodermis with the help of material synthesis. I could create a suit or an armor. I could integrate it into my biology so that it would enhance my durability, my strength, allow me to heal almost everything.
Honestly, the unlimited energy thing was even though I only had invested one charge laughingly easy to make with the knowledge I had in my mind because even though I had the equivalent of an amateur in C’tan technology because it was the least this star of knowledge could because the fact that their technology originally could and was used to feast on mortals and immortal alike, to transform them in sources of energy, to kill stars.
What I intended to create was a stable, endless power source, something kinda inspired from an arc reactor-like device that would channel the raw force of C’tan energy.
The thing with C’tan energy was that it could be considered bullshit in every way possible. I had read about iton an online wiki in my last life and the gist of it if I was not wrong was that it hailed from beyond conventional space, that It was a power that if left contained would literally twist matter and unravel reason but this was warhammer so it was a given. Still, what I knew made sure that I could tame it, hopefully for the solar system and all the lives in it. At least if I fucked them up, I would be taking the gods with me.
I began by laying out the foundational principles on a small slate at my side, tracing equations and sketches with a gloved finger. The key was containment—holding something as wild as C’tan energy in a stable cage without letting it distort reality. Modern fusion reactors, still struggling with hot plasma or at least the concept of them was a start. They used after magnetic fields to suspend plasma in midair. If they could hold star-like fury inside steel chambers, maybe I could hold something stranger using similar logic.
Still, C’tan energy if it could would probably laugh at mere magnets if I didn’t strengthen my approach. The energy had an interdimensional aspect, hinting it could slip through the cracks of normal space. So I planned quantum field stabilizers—tiny devices to craft a pocket dimension around the energy core. In simpler words, I aimed to isolate it inside a bubble of altered rules, forcing it to obey constraints I set. Magnetic fields to hold it in place, quantum fields to limit its unruly habits.
Next, materials. Regular metals would be as useful as wet paper before the onslaught of interdimensional energy. I needed a shell that could endure anything. For that, I turned to Adaptive Material Synthesis, ever helpful.
By using it, I could guide matter at the atomic level, I could shape an alloy that behaved almost like living tissue—self-repairing, superconducting, and able to shrug off electromagnetic assaults.
I needed it to resemble the Necrodermis: a theoretical living metal that the ancient C’tan themselves employed.
By blending carbon nanostructures, rare metallic elements, and specialized ceramic grains I should be able to yield a lattice that conducted current with no resistance and sealed its cracks the moment they formed.
With a pulse, I activated adaptive material synthesis and sent it the instructions. The AMS star hummed softly in my mind matter rearranging behind thick, reinforced glass. I watched as tiny sparks danced. Atoms fell into line, forging a new alloy with properties I engineered. After some time, a small ingot emerged, glistening as though coated in oil, shifting colors when I tilted it in the light. That would be my structural base, my shell material.
I pressed my fingertips against that alloy, feeling the temperature remain strangely constant. It accepted my touch without heating or cooling. Perfect. This would form the outer casing, the internal supports, and the rings for my superconducting coils.
Superconductivity was next. To confine C’tan energy with magnetic fields, I needed coils that carried current forever without losing energy. The superconductors that I had learned about in my past life demanded ultra-cold temperatures.
With my adaptive alloy, I might achieve superconductivity at more manageable conditions, or at least integrate advanced cooling channels. I planned to run fine ducts within the metal to channel cryogenic fluids, possibly liquid helium, to keep the system stable.
I began shaping the alloy into concentric rings—thin, elegant circles each sized to nest within the other. I used a high-precision mill and a steady hand.
The rings would create a magnetic bottle once powered by current. Each ring was carefully wound with superconducting filaments grown from the alloy itself, arranged in patterns that created stable fields. If a tokamak reactor uses toroidal fields to hold plasma, I would use layered fields that merged into a three-dimensional cage. In my mind’s eye, I saw lines of magnetic force weaving a firm embrace around a luminous heart.
With the structure taking form, I turned to the quantum stabilizers—perhaps the most exotic element. I needed small units capable of generating controlled quantum fields that prevented energy from slipping between dimensional cracks. This required delicate engineering. Each stabilizer resembled a tiny crystal lattice embedded with quantum circuitry. Designing them would have probably taken weeks of thought experiments, looking up obscure theories on zero-point energy fields and vacuum fluctuations if not for the stars in my mind. I took out a handful of these stabilizer units—no bigger than lentils—and embedded them at precise intervals around the inner circumference of the reactor’s central chamber. The final arrangement resembled small gems set inside a beautiful, alien crown.
Now to the heart of the matter: introducing C’tan energy. I had obtained a minuscule fragment—a sliver of that infinite well due to the star in my mind. It looked like a flicker of light that refused to sit still, shifting colors no human language could name. Storing it would probably demand stasis fields and triple-redundant backups. Every time I looked at it, I felt a subtle pressure in my skull, asif I had the beginning of a headache. I was playing with what was technically eldritch so that was expected.
Before placing it inside the reactor, I ran simulations mentally. The star of knowledge showed me what to expect: a gentle glow if done right, stable fields forming like invisible hands cupping a delicate ember. If I failed, the energy might lash out, damaging my workshop at best. Let's not even think about the worst.
This is why I implemented fail-safes: emergency coils that could scramble the fields and let the energy dissipate harmlessly into infrared light if things went awry. I did not plan to let that happen, but caution was my ally.
I took a deep breath. Don’t rush. Just follow the Do’s and Don’ts had etched into your mind:
Do Calculate each parameter. No guesswork.
Do Start small. Introduce a tiny amount of C’tan energy, confirm stability before scaling up. Do Layer multiple safety measures. If one fails, the others must hold. Do Monitor everything constantly. Do Keep cooling systems active. Heat must not build unchecked.
Don’t skip redundant fail-safes. Arrogance kills in these realms. Don’t inject too much energy at once. Infinite power can overwhelm even the best design. Don’t neglect thermal regulation. Overheating would lead to structural stress. Don’t forget that human factors matter. Controls must be intuitive, readings clear, so I can react under stress.
Steeling my nerves, I approached the containment chamber. Inside that capsule glowed my fragment of C’tan energy—my tiny sun, my piece of eternity. I interfaced the capsule with the reactor’s insertion port. Slowly, I opened the gate, letting the energy slip into the magnetic and quantum framework. The sensors sang softly, reporting field intensities and quantum coherence values. I watched the displays: green lines, stable flux, no spikes.
In an instant, the energy settled. Through a small window in the casing, I saw a shimmering presence suspended in midair. No arcs of energy lashing out, no sudden distortions. The stabilizers and magnets held firm. I exhaled. This was good.
Next, I had to bring online the conversion matrix. Without it, I had a pretty bauble—a star in a bottle—but not a useful power source. The conversion matrix would translate raw C’tan energy into electricity or other needed forms. I connected it through superconducting conduits. The matrix itself was or should be at least a marvel, layered materials that, at a quantum level, filtered the energy kinda like trying to turn a roar of chaotic sound into a single, pure note. That’s what the matrix did, should do, sift through the raging possibilities and present a stable current at the output ports.
I powered it up. The readings shifted. The conversion matrix began to draw a tiny trickle of energy, shaping it into a stable electrical output. I attached a test load: a row of lamps arranged on the far side of the bench. They flickered to life, shining steadily. It worked at a low setting. Good
Over the next hours, I incrementally increased the draw. Each step confirmed stability. I never jumped too far at once—just a nudge more demand, a check of temperatures, a glance at field strengths. The star in my mind was primordial, almost alive in a way. It helped me make subtle corrections to magnetic alignment, trimming quantum field parameters.
With more output came more heat. Though superconductors minimize losses, some waste energy still emerges at high loads. I activated the cooling channels. Liquid helium coursed through microscopic ducts. The reactor’s shell never grew above a safe warmth, always radiating a gentle glow.
I took notes as I worked: “At 5% output, stable. No anomalies. At 10%, conversion efficiency near 100%. At 20%, minor field drift need to corrected. Temperature nominal.” These data points painted a picture of a device with room to grow.
I adjusted a dial and watched a tiny plasma conduit flare inside the matrix. I had designed the device to route energy into different forms. Electricity was the simplest—just send the stabilized output into conductors but I could also produce ionized plasma for propulsion, or feed mechanical couplings for kinetic tasks. The versatility was remarkable. I watched a small demonstration: a miniature thruster arrangement to one side, which, when activated, spurted a pale stream of glowing plasma that danced gently in the controlled environment. Perfect.
Eventually, I powered down the extra subsystems and let the reactor run at a moderate steady state. The lamps stayed lit, the plasma stream quieted, and I collected more data. Everything aligned: the quantum stabilizers prevented dimensional slips, the magnetic fields remained steady, and no sign of instability showed.
I decided to push a bit further—just enough to confirm that I could scale up safely. With careful increments, I doubled the output once more. The energy rose, and the reactor’s glow intensified. For a brief instant, I saw a fluctuation in one reading—just a quiver of a line on a graph. I tensed, ready to trigger the failsafe if needed. Fortunately, the situation corrected itself, field phases, the line flattened, stability restored. I let out a slow breath, grateful for my decision to build multiple redundant systems. I had all the power I needed now—no point in pushing further and courting disaster.
I powered down again, bringing the output back to a gentle hum, letting the system cool and rest. It was done. The device worked. I had created something that would undoubtedly speed my plan, that would allow me to make the humans of this world rise even more and this time, without the help or influence of the Olympians.
I had a miniature arc reactor holding C’tan energy at its heart, translating infinite chaos into docile energy streams. I smiled, recalling the DO’s and DON’TS once more:
Do Always run simulations first. I had done that. Do Start with a tiny amount of C’tan energy. I had been cautious, and it paid off.
Do Layer safety systems, never rely on one. My quantum stabilizers, magnetic fields.
Do Monitor conditions constantly and make micro-adjustments if needed. Do Keep cooling active. No sign of overheating had occurred.
Never remove fail-safes or skip redundancy. Without them, that small spike could have grown. Don’t inject too much energy at once—my incremental approach proved sound. Don’t neglect cooling—I kept temperatures stable with helium. Don’t make the interface too complicated—I had built a clear control dashboard, and it helped me react quickly.
As I gently disconnected the test loads, I wondered about the future or at least the possibilities, the things I knew I could possibly implement in it. Maybe I Could I refine this device further, maybe reduce complexity, or incorporate even more advanced stabilizers?
It was practically unlimited energy. A lot of people not only in America but all over the world always worried about energy and electricity bills. With my creation, this fear would become a thing of the past. With the money I knew I would gain, I could construct homes, places where homeless people would not have to worry about any cold in winter or being burnt by the sun rays in summer.
With this device, I could whether it was directly or indirectly solve homelessness in the entirety of the United State. Maybe if I had combined the arc reactor like device with the star of anti divine construct in my mind, I could create places, spots where gods and monsters would be unable to detect, look at. With this device, I could possibly make sure that what happened with the child and the Cyclops will never happen again, that demigods could grow like children and not like soldiers, survivors.
The possibilities soared. I had to be frank so many ideas but it was understandable. I literally had a blueprint for something that might liberate humankind from energy scarcity forever. It felt like holding a secret sun in my palm.
Still, I was not completely naive. Unlimited energy meant weapons of magnitude greater than everything ever created by mankind so far. I had to be careful because if I fucked up, what I created might well end up being the reason of humanity’s death. After all, could I swear, believe without meditation that if others learned to make these, they would wield them responsibly? No, I could honestly not.
Stepping back, I watched the device resting on the workbench. Its gentle glow reminded me of a calm lake under moonlight. My laboratory smelled faintly of ozone and cooled metal. I flexed my fingers and made them crack. Did the same thing with my shoulders. They were stiff.
I closed the protective casing, sealing the arcs of metal and crystal inside. The device was compact, fitting easily into my hand.
I pressed my ear close—there was no real sound, but I imagined I could sense a gentle hum, almost like a whisper, a promise of infinite potential. I turned off the lights, leaving the device as the sole illumination. In that moment of semi-darkness, it looked like a heart of captured lightning.
Well, I had finished on my side. I hope Beryl did too and if she didn't, she would soon. I had made the honeypot. Now the only thing left was to go wall amongst the bears.
Comments
rockus4
Also might want to be careful for the baby trapping goddess that is Athena. She is worst than any gold digger, atleast you have to chose to go raw with them but Athena just sees someone smart and bam you have a kid with me now.
Ben Lockwood
You could get help from the peanut farmer(Jimmy Carter), that would be something he would massively support.
Gerardo Hernández Sánchez
Surpassing Zeus lighting!!!
Nisiris
Zeus likes to throw around that lightening of his... Maybe we could put him finally to some good use and make him charge our batteries.
allen 1996
Yes to everything you said. That's why Alex did his best to be careful because if he wasn’t, bye bye humanity
Sefa Baah
Thanks for the chapter. I did a some research of the C'tan since thay are starting gods energy... Couldn't the Mc have create a new sun ? Because isn't there a possibility for the C'tan energy get/be sentient?
rockus4
Honestly the unlimited energy has a way better chances of being viable in the 90s, people still remember the gas shortages, and the OPEC while powerful is not as powerful as it is now.
