She sank into the seat.
The rupture, and the dragon that had come out of it, would have led to a disaster. An agitated, living, breathing, flying flame thrower could burn down entire blocks. Could the nearest EIC base, or the local military garrison, react before her home was in danger?
Her head dropped forward, forehead resting on the seat in front. She wrapped her arms around herself.
That creature wasn't something she could repel alone. Even if, by some miracle, she did, would she have survived?
Countless questions of what ifs plagued her mind.
She knew they were all pointless, all because of one man. A man that was centuries, even millennia, beyond this world's technological level.
She didn't know what to think about him. Gratitude was there, but the rest of her opinions needed time before crystallizing.
Sleep did not find her easily, nor was it a pleasant one when it did. The visions of the dragon appeared whenever she closed her eyes.
—
Glassport
"What are we working on now?" Nax asked. The fabricator was already warming up.
"Weapons."
"Ooh, nice." His holographic avatar suddenly had a general's uniform covered in medals and pins. "It was bound to get more difficult for you to improvise weapons on the spot to kill someone."
"I can still improvise plenty. However, the conclusions are starting to become increasingly messy."
He willed the satellite image of the aftermath of the rupture on Hatsuzumi onto a screen. The area surrounding the rupture had been spared much of the damage. Two of the buildings where the explosions took place were ruined, and the massive corpse of the dragon littered the street.
Compared to what could have happened, he knew this was nothing.
"Can't argue with that."
He entered the design room. The sterile-white, scale-like plates covering the floor, walls, and ceiling flexed like a contorting muscle. His palm faced the floor and fingers curled into a claw.
The red bio-electricity flowed out, a byproduct of the imperfect attempt to transcend the boundaries of flesh. He accessed the projectors, and everything he had imagined in the short time following the dragon attack flowed out.
Infantry weapons, explosives, aircraft, energy shielding, and, most importantly, an early rupture detection system.
He started small.
Everything except the most basic rifle was shelved into the database. Rectangular and silver-white, carrying the same scaled pattern, the plasma inside the electromagnetic containment chamber would be ejected in different patterns by the magnetic guidance chamber.
Semi-automatic mode for precision, range, and ammo efficiency, like a sniper, and a fully automatic mode for suppression of large crowds and close quarters.
The weapon was nothing new; rather, it was several existing components brought together. The plasma power cell was from his maintenance bots, the electromagnetic containment and guidance from the reactor, and the nanolaminate alloy was from everywhere since he had replaced most of the interior with the same material.
He chuckled with a shake of his head. How easy it was to build these weapons when even Calidex Arms could only dream of directed energy weapons.
He followed with a rocket launcher. The aesthetics stayed the same, but he moved the power cell to the rear. No backblast meant he could use the extra space for a larger power source. Three shots per cell meant three times the firepower. The finishing touch was a highly advanced and small targeting screen. It painted the target with a specific magnetic signature for the guidance system.
Shaped blast for armor, scattering mode to act as rain plasma down on crowds.
A six-barreled rotary gun for a ridiculous fire rate, grenades that violently expelled jet-like plasma in a twenty-meter radius, a shotgun firing plasma pellets, and a long-range precision rifle for fire support.
He could invade any military base in the world with these and win.
"Boss, why don't you take a break? You've been at this for twelve hours already."
He stopped, eyes sliding to the bracelet to check the time. "The lack of physical indicators for exhaustion makes me lose track of time."
"I'll work on the power armor and have a prototype ready for testing. You go and rest."
"Alright. Have enough weapons manufactured to arm a company."
"Got it."
Dinner was already waiting for him. He ate, took a shower, and hit the bed.
—
He was freshening up when Nax popped up without the usual dramatics.
"I have three pieces of news for you."
He glanced at the hologram for a beat, then continued to wash his face.
"First, someone recorded a video regarding the condition of the workers in the manufacturing centers," he said. A screen appeared next to him, showing tired workers without any safety equipment. One collapsed, only to be dragged away by the security and replaced.
Crowded sleeping quarters with dim lights and no air conditioner, plenty of sick workers coughing and falling.
He could see that it wasn't some digital mishap. Someone had actually hired actors to paint a gritty picture for his company.
"Workers that we don't have? That ought to be fun." He chuckled. Whoever did this probably wanted to either blackmail him or gain access to his manufacturing centers.
"Yes, the next one is tied to it. Since you registered yourself as the company's founder and sole owner, you are being summoned to testify before the Grand Council."
"Yay, I love nothing more than answering to those old men."
"Since you grew too much, too quickly, and without letting anyone else take a piece of the pie, some parties are miffed." Nax brought forward all the messages and letters sent to the company for investment, shares, and collaborations. Every single one was left unanswered.
"Uh huh."
"And this is subjectively the worst, but your father is summoning you to the palace."
He stopped, towel halfway to his face. "For what?" He had not spoken to them in around three years now. There were invitations to dinners, galas, and receptions, but he had not answered any.
They should have gotten the message by now.
"He didn't say. Apparently it is urgent."
"And?"
"Well, the meeting room is devoid of everything working with electricity, but you remember Edward Coline?" he asked, reflecting the image of the tall blonde man in question.
"The Graf of Lasline." How could he forget the man from whom he had obtained the funds for his research?
"He called you after meeting with him and his daughter."
"Could be about how I fixed her," he thought. "Tell him I am dead or something. Not like they will recognize me." Except for the shape of his face and voice, he was completely unrecognizable.
They only knew of an official resident in Glassport, not the labs. He could safely ignore them.
"And the summon to the Grand Council?" The digital scan of the official summons letter glared at him. He had half the mind to just tear it up and send the remains back to the Grand Council.
"Just tell them they are free to inspect whichever facility they want."
"It's a good thing we have a small arsenal of weapons now. You are going to need them when this blows in your face."
"What are they going to do, send me a message on how disappointed they are?"
"No, simply seize your assets, and the tech inside," he replied, bringing forward another screen. A cursor glimpse showed that it was an action plan by the council to seize his assets should he fail to arrive to testify.
"Should I start shutting the company down, damage the planetary economy, and ruin tens of thousands of lives?"
The question was rhetorical. He knew his creator would never choose to cause so much chaos because he did not want to deal with politics. He'd just find a way to humiliate them instead.
"You know, I might just do that out of spite."
"Your breakfast is ready. I already prepared teleportation locations for both occasions."
"Whatever," he said with a low, growling voice.
The breakfast was a dull affair. His mind was occupied with his parents. He couldn't even enjoy the mushroom and chicken wrap. He left the table, food half finished.
—
Thermion
Moonrise Palace
He stood before the first security checkpoint. Sliding his ID card into the slot, the glass doors opened.
"What brings you to the palace today?"
He glanced at the security. "I have an appointment with my parents." He laid his palm on the scanner. Much had changed regarding his physique, but the handprint would pass the scan.
"Prince Thairon? You look… different," the guard behind the glass window said.
"I hit a growth spurt." He laid his hand on the monitor. His old photos in the database disappeared, leaving their place for his current look. "You should refresh the page; it is not updated."
The man looked at the armed guards. He pressed the refresh button. The brown-haired, brown-eyed man had left its place for a sharp, silver look.
He walked out of the checkpoint without looking back.
"My prince, please wait."
He turned around. The colonel responsible for the security of the palace was approaching him with, "What is it?"
"Prince Thairon, is it really you?"
"I can knock out another one of your men if you want."
"We will escort you inside, this way."
—
The colonel whispered something to the royal guards at the door. The royal guard appraised him before whispering back. It looked like the back and forth would continue longer than he was willing to wait.
The soldiers on either side immediately stiffened when he took a step forward. Index fingers rested on the trigger guard. They would not fire without an order or unless they believed he was a threat.
Both royal guards protested as he tried to pass. He pushed them aside. His enhanced strength sent them to the ground with the barest effort. The colonel tried to reach for him, but he had already nudged the door open.
"What is this commotion?" His father rose from his seat, luscious brown locks waving.
"The guards were being idiots. I don't have the whole day to wait for your leisure," he said.
"Who are you?" Octavian asked. He was just about to order the guards to take the intruder away when his wife huffed.
"There is only one person so impetuous enough to barge inside the Royal Office."
"You know me so well, Mother," he replied with a lopsided grin.
His father tilted his head, dismissing the guards. Without waiting for permission, he took the only available seat. He first glanced at his parents, sitting on the right side of the refreshment table, and then at Graf Edward Coline with his daughter on the left.
"So, what is this about?"
His father looked at him, waiting. When he said nothing else, Octavian just pinched the bridge of his nose. "What happened to you?"
"I don't know. I woke up one day like this." Revealing the genetic modifications would be just asking for trouble.
"Oh really?" she said, one eyebrow rising. "You don't know how you ended up in this state? Perhaps I overestimated your intelligence for science."
He gave her a flat look. "The point, if you would."
"Are you really the one who saved me?"
"Saved you?" he asked, squinting his left eye. "I healed you for a sizable amount of money, not out of charity." The shine in her eyes and the desire in her glance painted a small picture.
"So it was you," she thought, glancing at the young lady. She had seen her once, long ago, bedridden, with the intelligence of an infant due to her developmental disorder.
Now, she was the pride and joy of Edward Coline.
Loretta preened, fixing her blond hair and straightening her long, emerald green dress.
"The point is, my prince," Edward began. "Lasline has never been into capital politics. We never took sides or supported anyone. But now, we came to his grace with an offer. If you agree to marry my daughter and become her consort as the future Lady of Graf, we will break our neutrality. The full might of House Coline will support the crown."
"I," he cracked his neck, and continued after a pause, "don't care for any of the points you mentioned."
The politics, the power struggle, and the alliances were not subjects he ever dabbled in. Nor did he ever intend to.
His blunt tone wiped the expectant look on the faces of the Coline family. His mother closed her green eyes, lips thinning. His father took a deep breath, a slight tremble going up his neck.
"But…"
"But what? Whether you are allied with my parents or not doesn't concern me. I am not interested in ruling, or even taking administrative duties. In addition, I find these political marriages primitive."
They were at the edge of reaching space yet wanted to arrange a marriage between two people just for an alliance? It served to remind him why he hated the capital.
"I see," Edward said, turning to his daughter. She lowered her head, avoiding eye contact, still as a statue.
"Great," he rose from the chair. "Since we are done here, I have actually important matters to see to."
He left just as quickly as he had come.
—
Once his rebellious son was out, Octavian sighed deeply. "As you can see, he is headstrong, stubborn, and would not make a good husband for your daughter."
"I was aware of his blunt nature, but this was unexpected. Yet he is the one who my daughter wants," he said.
Loretta raised her head. She was not sad as expected, but resolute.
"Young lady, I have six more sons. Any one of them would make a better husband than Thairon," she said. Meran would be the king and already had a fiancée. But Leander did not and, as the second prince, was the perfect choice.
If she could convince this man, who was a total fool for his daughter.
"I understand Your Grace. However, he is the one I owe everything to."
She just smiled at the young lady. She could try to approach her third son all she wanted; in fact, she would encourage it. After all, Thairon was a master of driving people off.
Octavian cleared his throat. "Returning to the matter of your daughter's miraculous recovery. You never mentioned that Thairon was responsible for it."
It had created an uproar in the medical and political scenes. He had gone as far as to order a non-official investigation to see if Edward Coline had dabbled in illegal activities.
"He wanted fifty billion aurels to heal my daughter and wanted me to keep it quiet. I respected his wishes, as long as he succeeded." Now that the cat was out of the bag, there was no reason to keep it a secret.
Leonora let out a short, humorless laugh. "Now everything makes sense."
How she had raged when Thairon abandoned the academy without graduating. The pride of the Arlex Royal Academy, there one day, gone the next. He had not answered their calls to return, not even when funding for his work was cut off.
He had acquired all the funding he would ever need.