“Bring up all the knowledge we’ve bought a part of due to limited SP,” Aron ordered, rubbing his hands together like a kid on Christmas morning. He had forgotten that he was now the emperor of an empire that had only been founded less than twenty hours ago. It was the most important moment of its existence, though it really didn’t make much difference as he had a capable team of helpers and advisors that could keep things going for the time he would be absent.{Yes, sir,} Nova excitedly said. She waved her hand, and a list of Aron’s partially acquired knowledges popped up on a virtual screen in front of him.[Tractor and Repulsor Beams, tier 1Used to maneuver objects to and from the power source. Particularly useful in places unsuited to humans, such as deep space or other hostile environments.It was discovered as a matter of necessity by a member of a dragonoid race that has since been wiped out due to needing to move his lair after an enemy took over his territory. Upon discoverin
While Aron was busy shopping and discussing the new Research City plan with Nova, nyxians embedded in the various protest groups began plucking the instigators from the groups they were in and replacing them. After all, an unaimed herd of humanity was like a large firework launcher. Leaving either of them unattended was a very, very bad idea and could lead to incredibly destructive consequences.The nyxians still allowed the mobs to vandalize buildings and other assorted properties, landmarks, and monuments, but they limited the damage and guided it primarily to the (former) government buildings along the way. Still, a few unfortunate shops and warehouses were targeted, but once the protesters came to their senses the next day, they would likely be surprised to hear that some of their favorite stores had been destroyed while their least favorites were just fine.Nyx had instilled all of her nyxians with a rather wicked sense of sardony, after all.Not all of the groups were monolithic
For an hour or so, the riots continued unabated. Those leading them were quite happy, and patting themselves and each other on the back. After all, no matter what intelligence agency they worked for, whether it was the CIA, Mossad, MI6, MSS, or any of the many, many others working as instigators, they had all been “in the trade” for long enough that they could spot familiar faces in the crowds around them.Spies were generally valuable, and when caught, they would be ransomed by their agency at a reasonable price. So interagency friendships and rivalries were generally of the polite sort and rarely close in the case of friendships—after all, friends today could find themselves on opposite sides and working at cross purposes tomorrow—while their rivalries rarely, if ever, reached the point of a blood feud. And for the same reason, at that; enemies today could find themselves working together tomorrow.So they all knew at least one of the other instigators, and everyone knew what they w
Houston, Texas.Being citizens of the state that possessed the most good ol’ American yeehaw, the rioters that had been stopped by the LEAs only paused for a brief moment. People who had moments before been intent on punching, kicking, and biting each other into shallow graves looked at each other, nodded, then turned to face the new threat.Nobody knew, nor did it really matter, who fired the first shot, but soon, everyone in the crowd with guns had begun raining bullets on their perceived enemies. It didn’t matter if it was the police or the LEAs, anyone who stood in front of the rioters was deemed a mortal enemy and supporter of the megalomaniac who had taken away their freedom.Even the unarmed rioters were picking up stones and throwing them with all their might. Most of the thrown stones fell short, but it was the thought that counts.While receiving the bombardment, the LEAs remained still as sparks flashed on their exterior armor and the distinct whine of ricocheting bullets r
Elsewhere in the world, peace still had yet to be completely restored.In Istanbul, one of the LEAs was placing stun cuffs on one of the downed protesters when another one, who had “surrendered” earlier, rose up and swung a metal pipe at its head. But to the protester’s complete surprise, the helmet was completely undamaged while the pipe gave out. After all, when hard comes in contact with impossibly hard, hard loses.The LEA finished cuffing the prisoner, then stood and turned to face the protester that had swung the pipe at it. The man swung the bent pipe at the LEAs face, only for the disguised robot’s arm to move impossibly fast as it caught the pipe and released a taser charge from its palm. The jolt caused the protester to drop the pipe and the LEA swiftly raised its charge pistol and stunned him point blank, then stun cuffed him and moved on to the next downed protester without a word.In Novograd, Russia, someone attacked the LEAs with a molotov cocktail only for it to comple
January 7, 2018.With a strict curfew maintained over the past week, people had found themselves with little to do. Thus, orders had been pouring in for AR glasses and VR gear nonstop and deliveries had proceeded apace. By the end of the week, the number of people connected to VR had reached two billion, twice Aron’s initial goal, and the number was still steadily increasing.The first batch of retrained individuals also returned home and began implementing their orders. As they got to work, the empire truly began taking shape as the imperial agencies came online. While the AIs were capable of managing the empire perfectly fine, and it could even run completely without human intervention, there was still some ephemeral difference between having real people at the helm and AIs running things.In the finance sector, the currency issue had also begun. All digital currencies were instantly converted to Earth New Dollars at a fair exchange rate and paper currency was available, albeit in a
Research City.“Damn, I can’t believe this is open to everyone,” Peter Chekhov said as he laid his eyes on the city in front of him.“It’s a dream come true for every researcher in the world. Who would’ve thought that Emperor Aron would allow such a city to exist without demanding payment from anyone! He could’ve charged money and everyone would still throw money at him for access,” said an olive-skinned young man walking next to him.The olive-skinned young man was named Mario, and Peter had befriended him during his time touring the simulation backpacking in the Alps.“It isn’t really free, though. Any and all research done here is owned by the imperial family,” Peter said. There was always a price for everything.“True, but they give you a hundred-year royalty agreement if it’s an advancement that you come up with and they haven’t. Plus, they provide you with the best environment and basically unlimited funding for your research.” Mario shrugged. There may be a price, but some pric
A week later, enough people had been hired and trained, or retained and retrained, that the government could function relatively normally. The LEAs had been deactivated and stored away, ready to be deployed again at need in case of emergency, and the virtual intelligences staffing the VR government offices had human supervision at all hours of the day. The shifts were long, but the work was satisfying and the employees had no complaints.It would be another week yet, before they began a nine-hour shift rotation—eight hour workdays with an hour for lunch—and a week after that, they would finally be able to take days off and vacations. But they had all undergone the training program Gaia and the other AIs had set up for them, so they understood the need for the long hours and were okay with it. Plus, the overtime pay was excellent and greatly appreciated; previously, as government employees, they had been forced to work on salary waivers that limited, if not eliminated entirely, their o
“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