Aron had advantages that made all of the problems the early pioneers of runic computing encountered complete nonissues. He was the perfect, or perhaps worst, person to have ever gotten their hands on that technology; it only depended on whether you were friends or foes in his eyes.For the mana requirements, he had an adapter that would convert electricity into mana, even if the ratio was steep. For material needs, he had atomic printers. And for the issues the original creators had run into regarding mass production of runic computers, he’d upgraded his atomic printers with the capability of printing runic constructs. All he would have to do is gather up the pre-printed materials and channel his mana into them for a while.And even that would cease to be a problem as soon as he worked out a way of automating the process of imprinting intent into runic constructs that were created by his atomic printers.Aron laughed out loud after he finished explaining his plans. He was quite excite
Aron watched as the atomic printer in his lab whirred to life, printing the base materials he would require to build his runic computer. Block after block of pure minerals slid onto a waiting tray, beneath which he had already carved a mana condensing runic construct linked to a fusion reactor the size of a golden retriever.“Nova, increase the time dilation around the condenser as high as it can go,” he ordered.Nova nodded and waved her hand; the condenser construct was immediately increased to a time dilation factor of 1100:1. In reality, they could do the same thing by increasing the size and output of the runic construct and fusion reactor, but that wouldn’t fit in Aron’s personal lab, virtual or not.“While that’s working, let’s see what the system has for programming languages that’re compatible with runic and biological computers,” he muttered to himself, bringing up his system shop window and giving Nova access to his senses with a blink.“Hmm... you,” he began, “and... you.”
Aron, still giddy with excitement, ran to his seat at lightning speed. He couldn't wait any longer to test the computer and see if it met the standards outlined in the knowledge he had purchased from the system. He plugged it in and powered it on, allowing the computer to draw electricity from the wall through its power brick, which converted it to mana to power the components, thus completing the bootup processes.The operating system he had written into it came to life, lighting up the screen with the GAIA Technologies logo, something he was careful to never leave out of his innovations.“Let’s see how it holds up,” he said as he pulled up the benchmarking program he had written alongside the runic OS.But after fiddling with the program for a while, he was left less than impressed by the runic computer’s speed of operations. It was fine for single operations, but didn’t even include the ability to hyperthread to at least emulate the ability to multitask. Perhaps starting with quant
Meanwhile, around the Sun.The detectors launched by the imperial space agency that had first discovered the signs of the impending disaster finally let out an alert as the sunspot stretched to the verge of breaking. Shortly after, with a flash of light, all of the detectors vanished as the eruption began.A mass of nearly liquid hydrogen and helium the size of Earth was ejected from the sun in a 120 degree arc. Its velocity was such that it would reach Earth in just over twelve hours, and Mars about two and a half hours after that.And all of it was being broadcast live to everyone in the solar system, courtesy of the imperial space agency.......Some people believed that, if something beyond their control was about to happen to them, it would be better if they were caught off guard by it. That way they wouldn’t spend the time leading up to the event in anxiety and panic. “Ignorance is bliss,” they claimed, and in a sense it was the absolute truth, because the moment one was notifie
“Babe,” the man said with a choked sob. “I know you’d rather die than become an impy. I know what happened to your family in the war... but I can’t do this by myself. I need you.” He clenched her blanket in his fists, then used it to wipe his tears. On some level, he knew it could cause more problems, but a man drowning in an ocean of tears wouldn’t fear the rain.“It isn’t just me, either. Our son, our son!” He sniffled back the snot that was about to drip out of his nose. “I can’t do it alone! You need to live, not just for me, but for our son. He needs a mother, not a stepmother or a nanny. And you promised me forever!“What happened, happened, but you can’t punish our son for the mistakes of others. Your pride is punishing us, and for what? What did we ever do? Is it fair to punish us just so you can keep your pride? Is it fair to make us feel the pain of losing you? The people you’re angry at don’t even know who you are! You’re just a number to them... but you’re everything to us
The fallout from the EMP was relatively small, considering that it only really affected a minority of the population. It also helped that the empire hadn’t been caught off guard and had had time to prepare. Thus, the damage was relatively minor, only in the billions of END. And most of that was the damage to old “legacy” versions of their tech, as anything that had been released over the past six or eight months had been well shielded and hardened to resist EMP attacks. Even civilian tech was the same.As for the electrical grid, that had been shielded from the very beginning. Thus, nothing connected to it faced any issues due to surges in the grid itself. Still, as part precaution and part political theater, the imperial press agency had reminded imperial citizens to ensure that any electrical appliance was unplugged at the time the CME hit, and for at least two hours afterward in case of any residual effects.However, the same couldn’t be said for things that weren’t reliant on the
As Murphy said, anything that can go wrong, will go wrong, and at the worst possible time. Just hours after Aron received his weekly briefing about the increasing crime rate, an event that would change his stance on the remnants began.Former Somalia.Sahro Hassan was sitting on a bench on the side of a street in Mogadishu, overlooking the ocean. The street itself was very clean, considering how much conflict the nation’s capital had gone through. It had been through wars between warlords, pirate groups, terrorist attacks, and riots, all within the young man’s memory.But now, all the traces of destruction had faded and the city was, on the surface at least, at peace.“Those were the good old days,” he sighed, reminiscing on his early life. He had lived like a prince in Somalia’s troubled times, as his father was not only a warlord himself, but also a high-ranking member of the terrorist group Al-Shabaab. Those early years had shaped his personality, fostering an extremist interpreta
High Earth Orbit.After cleaning up the debris in orbit following the Last War, the empire had launched a few thousand satellites of their own. And among them was a constellation of satellites dedicated to monitoring the movement of mana around Earth. After all, it was a new discovery, so they needed to know how it worked and why, so it was worth studying. And as an added benefit, the empire had gained the capability to track the changes mana caused in its surroundings.Currently, seven of the satellites responsible for monitoring mana were sending alarms to the staff of the imperial space agency.……Central Command, Ceres Station.The imperial space agency had a dedicated secure section of the dwarf-planet-turned-space station, and their central command was based there. They were responsible for monitoring every imperial asset in space—barring the ARES and NIS assets, each of which had their own monitoring stations. As reliable as the VIs that ran the satellite networks were, and as
“Seraphina,” Aron began, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of authority, “I’m not your enemy—unless you choose to make me one. I understand your anger, your frustration. You’ve lost control of a situation you believed was firmly under your command. But this predicament wasn’t my doing—you’re here because your leader chose to sacrifice you. What I’m offering you isn’t a chain—it’s an opportunity.”Her sharp eyes narrowed, the intensity of her gaze unwavering, but she held her silence. Aron leaned forward, his own gaze unrelenting as it met hers.“You can continue resisting, pushing the boundaries of the mana oath, and enduring needless pain. Or…” He paused, letting the words linger like a challenge. “You can choose to turn this situation into one that serves us both. Your strength, your insight—these are not things I wish to suppress. Quite the opposite. I want them refined, amplified, and put to meaningful use.”He motioned toward the table, where Nova was still doing fina
[Colosseum]Aron and Seraphina stood motionless, maintaining the same distance as at the start of their faceoff. Neither had moved, even during the spectacular fireworks show that followed Aron’s acceptance of her surrender. The only exception was Aron briefly waving to the citizens of his empire watching the broadcast, many of whom were overcome with emotion, crying in celebration of their historic victory. This event marked the first-ever interstellar combat they had participated in, and despite their lack of experience, they emerged as the sole victors.As cheers of triumph reverberated among his people and the disbelief of others lingered, the broadcast concluded. The moment Aron secured his final victory, the Arena itself was officially handed over to him as part of his reward, along with control of the AI referee. Without hesitation, the AI complied with her new owner’s first command: to end the broadcast. Aron had more pressing matters to attend to—a private conversation with a
[Meeting Room]Inside the Zelvora mental network, an oppressive silence hung over the gathered representatives around the meeting table. The events of the day had left them all stunned, their minds racing with the implications of what had transpired. These were not just any representatives—they were the ones who had signed off on the agreements, the architects of their civilizations’ participation in this contest.Now, they were confronted with the brutal outcome of their decisions.Many representatives sat deep in thought, their faces betraying various degrees of fear, frustration, and resignation. Those who hailed from civilizations steeped in selfish political traditions knew all too well the grim truth: scapegoats would be needed. Someone would have to bear the brunt of the blame for the humiliation, anger, and setbacks their civilizations had suffered.For many of them, the path forward seemed bleak. In the best-case scenario, they might lose their positions, exiled from the corr
To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself bu
The minutes passed quickly for the viewers, their eyes glued to Aron as he sat unmoving in the same meditative position for over fifteen minutes. Speculation ran rampant on both sides, fueled by curiosity and tension.For those in the Empire, the consensus was that Aron was in VR, likely meeting with family or key figures. Many debated who he might be speaking with, guessing that he was either calming worried loved ones or strategizing for the next fight.On the other hand, viewers from the Astral Conclave harbored a mix of anxiety and intrigue. They questioned whether Aron was recuperating in preparation for the upcoming battle, enhancing his focus and mental clarity, or if his recovery from the previous fight was incomplete and he was still in the process of healing.But their speculations ceased to matter as Aron opened his eyes with five minutes remaining in the waiting period. Calm and deliberate, he removed the glasses from his head, placing them back into their container. His n
The moment the fight was officially declared over, Nova acted without hesitation. She immediately dispatched the collector ship, equipped with a medipod, to retrieve the Trinarian fighter's body. Simultaneously, she ensured Aron could rearm himself with a fresh set of nanomachines. For the first time, this process was being done openly, marking a significant shift.Previously, nanomachines had been classified technology, their existence kept strictly under wraps. However, that secrecy had been unintentionally broken when Nova used them to cover Aron’s exposed body during a critical moment, prioritizing his dignity over confidentiality. As a result, while the technology remained shrouded in mystery, its existence was now officially acknowledged, albeit without disclosing any further details.Aron retrieved a small canister from the ship and opened it, revealing a liquid-like substance inside. Pouring it onto his hand, the substance behaved unnaturally, defying gravity as it began to sp
"Him alive is better than dead, right? I can use his live brain data to study how they use their spatial abilities—it might even help accelerate my plans if things go as intended," Aron said as he stood over the fainting Trinarian fighter.{True, having him alive presents opportunities. But dead men cause no problems, while the living carry infinite potential for chaos—especially one like him. If our spatial lockdown isn’t enough to fully contain his abilities, he could use them long enough to cause catastrophic damage, even if it means enduring the backlash,} Nova replied, her tone laced with caution. She wanted to ensure Aron was fully aware of the risks he was inviting by sparing the fighter's life.Usually, Nova would have been in favor of keeping him alive—it meant more data for her to process, analyze, and extrapolate from. But spatial ability users were in a league of their own when it came to danger. Even a dead one would yield enough data to at least satisfy her curiosity for
“Nova,” Aron called out in his mind the moment his eyes snapped open, rapidly collecting information and orienting himself, realizing he had finally left the enigmatic place the system had sent him.“Nova,” he called again, this time aloud, his voice carrying a commanding weight as it echoed faintly in the arena. Receiving no response to his first call, his sharp gaze shifted to his surroundings. It didn’t take long for him to notice his current state—nearly naked, save for the swarm of nanomachines that had begun assembling around him.{The system had ejected me, sir,} Nova’s voice finally came through, calm but slightly delayed as the nanomachines completed their task. They prioritized covering his lower body, forming a sleek pair of trousers, as there weren’t enough surviving nanomachines to reconstruct full armor. His chiseled upper body remained exposed, glistening under the lights of the Colosseum, much to the awe and unease of the spectators.Nova’s pragmatic choice left Aron l
Following Nova's orders and the AI referee's approval, the mana stone carriers swiftly began moving toward the Colosseum. As the first ship arrived and entered, it wasted no time, promptly unloading its entire cargo of mana stones before departing to make way for the next carrier to do the same. The process was conducted with remarkable efficiency, ensuring a steady flow of mana stones into the Colosseum without any unnecessary delays.The process continued as over fifty ships unloaded their cargo of mana stones, an act many from the Conclave viewed as both excessive and wasteful. With each successive ship, the pain of the Conclave's viewers grew, particularly when the fifth ship alone had already matched the quantity of mana stones used during the Colosseum's initial construction. Yet, they didn’t stop there; instead, they went on to unload ten times that amount, as if mana stones were an endless resource, leaving the Conclave citizens bewildered and horrified by such apparent extra