“You’re right,” Aron said with a smile. “Both in that it isn’t complete, and that there’s still two parts missing.”{What’re the other two parts? I can’t find anything that looks like it would fit this segment in my knowledgebase,} Nova asked. For the first time in a long time, she was unable to comprehend Aron’s thought processes. She had a few theories, but she wasn’t confident in any of them; they were all equally likely, or equally unlikely as the case may be.Aron went still for a moment, then, with a grunt, rose from his chair. He paced around the room with his hands behind his back, as if he was a wise old sage about to give advice or perhaps an anecdote about his earlier life. It was a fair comparison, too, as his mental age was far, far beyond his physical age due to spending so much time in the time-dilated environment that was the universal simulation.“After the initialization of Project Loki, I, and everyone else in my inner circle, came to the conclusion that everything
[Organic computing, tier 1Drawing inspiration from the remarkable complexity and efficiency of their species’ biology, the *************** combated the lack of mineral resources on their homeworld by branching computing into a different path. Instead of using silicon and metals, they discovered the ability of DNA base pairs to store information and developed a system of computing around that, creating complex and powerful computers from their own DNA. It was the final step that allowed them to become an interplanetary civilization, ruling over vast swathes of their home galaxy until they fell at the hands of the **************.Price: 178,000,000,000sp][Runic computing, tier 1*****, a former noble of a race enslaved by their technologically superior neighbors, took a side path upon his discovery of the fundamental runes that underpin all of creation. Knowing that he couldn’t trust his fellow slaves, as many quislings and traitors were among them and he had no way of distinguishing
While Aron was assimilating the new knowledges and deep in Nova’s medically induced coma, the top minds in the imperial space agency were in a meeting with Styx, the AI that headed up both the TSF and their agency.“How reliable is this?” Dr. Musa Aminu, the head of the ISA, asked as he blinked the holographic file displayed in his glasses closed.“We’re 95% confident, sir. Some time within the next week, another Carrington event is expected to take place. And based on the sunspots we observed along with the increase in solar winds, we believe it’ll absolutely dwarf the event from 1869. The most damning piece of evidence we have is that it’s happening off season.“Normally, the Sun acts up on a predictable eleven-year cycle, and the last solar maximum was only five years ago, so—”“It wasn’t 1869,” Agency Head Aminu calmly said. “It was -149 BE.”“I’m not sure that’s relevant, sir,” the researcher said. “A change in calendar doesn’t mea—”“It means exactly what it means, Doctor Yao. I
John turned to Nyx and said, “Continue. What’re you trying to say?”{I’m saying we should keep the shield in its passive mode and allow the Carrington event to happen,} she said in her trademark disinterested tone.“Why should we do that?” Dr. Aminu said, a look of shock still lingering on his face. Was he on the ground floor of an AI apocalypse? A bead of cold sweat dripped down from his temple as he fruitlessly tried to rein in his emotions.{A few reasons, actually,} Nyx said. She paused and looked around the room before continuing, {Other than the people in this room and His Imperial Majesty, no one knows that the planetary defense shield even exists in the first place. It’s always been in its passive mode, making it invisible to everyone. Bringing it to full strength will reveal it, making its existence a matter of public record.{That wouldn’t be a problem, but there’s no need to reveal our trump card like that. After all, a trump card our enemies know about isn’t very useful, n
“For god’s sake, I just woke up!” Aron grumbled. He hadn’t even been awake for an hour before Gaia and Nova had dragged him back into the simulation for a briefing on the upcoming Carrington event.{The situation is critical, Your Majesty. So there’s no time to waste, since we’ll need to respond to the situation as early as possible, depending on your approval,} Gaia said. She knew that Aron was still feeling lethargic after coming out of his induced coma, especially since he was still dedicating a portion of his mind to sorting the new knowledge that had been downloaded into him.“What is it with shit always happening when I’m out of commission? What kind of bullshit is that?” Aron continued grumbling as Nova massaged his headache away. Still, his briefing had been thorough and included the options presented to him by the people in the earlier meeting.{It’s the opposite, sir. Things are always happening, but while you’re ‘in commission’, they immediately get dealt with. It’s only wh
“Just can’t catch a fucking break,” a man sighed, looking at the sky. His sentiments were shared by almost everyone on Earth; Minister Rogers’ staff had released news of the incoming celestial catastrophe mere minutes before.The current populace of Earth, both imperial citizens and noncitizens alike, were becoming numb to world-ending situations. The emergency broadcast notification sound had been heard so often that most people considered it no more important than the beeping of an alarm clock that woke them for work in the morning.That was partly due to the frequency with which it sounded, but the greater reason for peoples’ eerie calm was that the empire would either have long been prepared for the emergencies, or there would be time for them to prepare a solution. Thus, they took the announcements in stride, confident that the empire would solve all of their problems before they became problems at all.......As everything urgent had been dealt with, Aron had returned to his lab
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.”
“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