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[Received information package (uncommon): Legacy of Munetika to Future Blacksmiths (Golden Sky Stories). (Unlock Price: 1000 OP)]
It is a philosophical treatise on the metaphysics of craft. I will gain a fundamental understanding of how to invest a "soul," a "purpose," and a "history" into a creation, transforming a high-quality product into a true artifact. The skill allows for the application of an intuitive, concept-based approach to the creation of any items.
This package introduces me to the two basic pillars that support the art of the legendary blacksmiths:
Intuitive Perfection: This is a passive effect that exponentially increases the probability that my created item will achieve a "masterpiece" status. My actions during the creation process are subconsciously directed toward achieving an ideal harmony of form, material, and function.
Conceptual Enchantment: This is an active process that allows for the "weaving" of one, unique, conceptual property into an item's essence. This process is activated and completed at the moment when I apply my personal signature, or my stamp, to the product.
The Art of the Blacksmith: The Harmony of Form.
This is a discipline that is focused on achieving an absolute quality of creation, one that exceeds the standard engineering tolerances and calculations. I will gain a theoretical foundation for:
The Flow of Mastery: This is the ability to enter a state of an intuitive "flow" during work, when my hands and my tools act as one, performing thousands of microscopic corrections that are inaccessible to a conscious control.
A Quality Beyond Calculations: This is the ability to create products that, with absolutely identical blueprints and materials, will exceed their mass-produced analogues in their reliability, their efficiency, and their ergonomics. They will become, not simply tools, but extensions of their owner's will.
The Master's Seal: The Weaving of Essence.
This is a metaphysical discipline that views the act of signing as a ritual that endows an item with a conceptual power. Over time, I will master:
The Concept as a Catalyst: This is the theoretical foundation for the selection and the formation of a single, powerful concept to be invested into an item. (For example, "Impenetrability," "Accuracy," "Stealth").
The Signature as a Conduit: This is an understanding of the principles by which my personal signature, or my stamp, acts as a metaphysical "channel" that finally binds the chosen concept to the product's physical structure.
The Manifestation of the Property: This is the knowledge of how the woven concept manifests itself as a passive, constantly acting property that amplifies the item's primary function. The quality and the power of this property will directly depend on my initial mastery in the creation of this type of product.
This is another missing element for me. Especially considering the recently obtained technomancy skill.
As for the moment's amusement... A skill that is directly connected with the blacksmith's art falls to me at a moment just before I am about to touch this world's legendary ores. The universe wasn't simply hinting at something. It was screaming in my face. Of course, in the fundamental research of vibranium's chemical structure, this knowledge won't help me. But Conceptual Enchantment... Oh, this changed absolutely everything. One signature. One stamp. And the item acquires a soul. This is almost like runic magic, but it is less functional, yet, in some way, it is more elegant.
Thoughts flooded in an unstoppable stream. Each idea clung to the previous one, generating even bolder concepts.
Could I create a pistol with the "Accuracy" concept? A weapon whose bullets don't simply fly toward the target, but are destined for it, bending their trajectory under the influence of probability itself? That would be amusing.
And what about the "Impenetrability" concept? What if I wove it into Captain America's shield? Yes, it's already considered to be almost indestructible, but Thanos, Sentry... everyone and their brother breaks it. But what would happen if its physical properties were backed by a metaphysical absolute? Would it become an object that was impossible to break, in principle, because its very essence would resist this?
But why should I stop at a passive defense? What about Gwen's suit? Besides all of the electronics that I planned to build into it, I could add the "Elusiveness" concept to it. And that would be it. Literally, nobody would be able to catch her. I imagined this. A suit would almost instinctively react to a threat, shifting her body by millimeters, and tensing the needed muscles a fraction of a second before Gwen, herself, even realized the danger. It would do this even with her sense. This wouldn't simply be an armor. It would be a symbiotic amplifier of her spider reflexes.
And what about my own suit? The Chimera was awaiting a significant upgrade, and now I knew what would become its heart. What concept should I choose for myself? "Efficiency"? "Adaptation"? Those were too obvious. What about "Superiority"? It would be a concept that would make the suit, at any moment, function at the absolute peak of its theoretical potential. It would ignore any external damage and any internal failures. It would always be striving to be better, stronger, and faster than the opponent. It was too straightforward, but it sounded damn powerful.
And the weapons... The vibro-gloves were, of course, imbalanced, but now, they seemed to be... a crude instrument. With the Technomancy and this new gift, it was time to think about creating a true "uberwaffe." A standard sword or a spear would only limit me. I needed something universal. A living symbiont weapon? Or... an elegant staff that would be capable of analyzing, memorizing, and storing, in its structure, any spell that I had seen? And, if I added the "Synthesis" or the "Evolution" concept to it? A weapon that wouldn't simply copy the magic, but that would combine and improve it, becoming stronger with each new battle...
Ugh, dreams, dreams... I mentally shook myself, returning to reality. All of these grandiose plans, all of these future artifacts... they would all start here and now. They would start with a piece of unprocessed metal on the laboratory table.
Interrupting the flow of hedonistic thoughts for any creator, I forced myself to return to the laboratory's reality. Yes, unlocking the "Legacy of Munetika" was my next priority. Fortunately, only 1000 points were required, and 380 of them already existed. But that was for later. Right now, there were the ores.
I had no grounds not to trust the S.H.I.E.L.D. records on the same Adamantium. But one key question wouldn't leave me alone. Why was it called an "ore"? As far as I remembered from my meta-knowledge, the Adamantium in the Marvel world was an alloy. It was the pinnacle of human materials science. What had gone wrong here? S.H.I.E.L.D., in its documents, had tactfully bypassed this moment, which meant that I would have to figure it out, myself.
I deployed my improvised analytical station. From my inventory, a box appeared, and from it, I took the smallest, but still weighty, piece of the so-called adamantium ore. I used the nuclear magnetic resonance, the chromato-mass spectrometry, and the automated reactor for simulations. It was a gentleman's set for uncovering the secrets of matter.
The very first results from the NMR spectrometer made me raise an eyebrow in surprise. This was not a metal. It was not an alloy. This was a chemical cocktail that was awaiting its moment. It was a most complex mixture of synthetic resins, iron-based catalysts, and a whole series of unidentified polymers. And all of this was in a completely inactive state.
Hundreds of simulations in the reactor only confirmed my guess. This wasn't forging. It was baking. The key to Adamantium's incredible properties was not in its composition. It was in its process. Upon reaching a strictly defined temperature and pressure, according to the S.H.I.E.L.D. records, an irreversible, cascading polymerization was launched. The molecules, like soldiers on a command, lined up in an ideally stable, interconnected, crystalline lattice. After it had hardened, this structure was already impossible to destroy, because the energy that was necessary to break these bonds exceeded the energy of any known physical force.
The conclusion was unambiguous. Adamantium is the pinnacle of materials science, but it was achieved, judging by the chaos and the redundancy of its components, absolutely by accident. It was a happy accident. Its indestructibility is the result of an ideal molecular geometry. It is absolutely inert to magic and to spiritual energy, because, at its molecular level, there simply remained no "hooks" for these forces to catch onto.
Now, I understood why Fury had so easily revealed to me the secret of its processing. I would be able to process it, giving it a form in that short moment while it was liquid. But reproducing the actual "recipe" of this random chemical soup was the real task. And Fury knew this. As for the toxicity, well... In the S.H.I.E.L.D. records, there was no information about this, and, from the analysis that I had conducted, there was not a whiff of any toxicity. I supposed that this was a problem that was connected with the bio-integration of an already processed Adamantium. Consequently, rushing with the Adamantium nanobots wasn't worthwhile just yet.
And still, why had the System considered this to be an ore? Perhaps there was its own logic in this, a logic that was currently inaccessible to me. I decided not to rack my brain with this, for now.
Next in line was the Vibranium. Its processing was a far more complex task, and a couple of hours definitely wouldn't suffice for it. Therefore, I limited myself to a superficial analysis.
The scanning electron microscope, the X-ray diffractometer, and the universal testing bench became my assistants. I began to methodically "bombard" the piece of metal with various types of energy, from kinetic impacts to thermal pulses, and I observed the reaction of its crystalline lattice.
And what I saw was mesmerizing. At a micro-level, the metal had a unique, almost living, honeycomb structure. It had no analogues among the Earth metals. When it was exposed to an energy, it didn't reflect it or block it. Instead, its entire structure began to vibrate in unison, and the metal didn't simply absorb it. It sang, at a molecular level, effectively transforming and dissipating the incoming energy as insignificant quantities of heat and light. True, in its ore form, it was unstable, and a part of the energy still broke through, as destructive vibrations.
The conclusion was obvious, but it was now backed by data. Vibranium is an ideal, passive energy absorber. Its ore is a raw, unstable form. The essence of all of its processing obviously consisted in the stabilization of this unique lattice, in order to bring the absorption efficiency to one hundred percent.
And immediately, in my head, there arose questions that led to a dead end. The metal obviously had an alien origin. The meteorite, Wakanda, everything converged. But how? How did a primitive jungle tribe, without any modern technologies, manage to process a material that required the finest impact in order to stabilize its structure? And why did this metal, which was essentially just an ideal shock absorber, allow them to rise so high? It doesn't produce any energy. It isn't a superconductor. It simply absorbs vibrations. This isn't enough to build the planet's most technologically advanced nation. Here, there was another mystery, one whose answer I probably wouldn't seek for now. Some semblance of peace in my life had finally appeared.
But there were answers to questions that I vitally needed! It was time to concentrate on the last sample. It was the most enigmatic one. I extended my hand to the gray, unremarkable ingot of metal, from which, nevertheless, there emanated a barely perceptible, ancient power. It was the Uru.
I threw at it my laboratory's entire arsenal. First, classically, there was the science. I performed all of the possible and impossible tests that could occur to me. And this unremarkable piece of metal, with a dignity, endured the execution, leaving me with a handful of mutually contradictory data.
Its elemental composition, as expected, contained isotopes that were not found in the Solar System. Its micro-level structure was porous, almost like a metallic sponge. But its physical properties... they were utter chaos. In one test, it behaved like an ideal shock absorber, absorbing a kinetic impact without leaving any remainder. In the next test, it reflected the same impulse with almost one hundred percent efficiency. Under an energy exposure, it sometimes heated up, and, at other times, it remained icy. It didn't obey the known laws of physics. From the standpoint of a pure science, this was an unstable, unpredictable, and absolutely useless material. The science here wasn't simply powerless. It was meaningless, because it was trying to measure, with a ruler, a phenomenon that existed in another dimension.
When science fails, its strange sister comes to its help.
From Strange Science, however, there proved to be little benefit, too. I only noted that the Reishi particles around the Uru behaved just as chaotically and unpredictably, as if they were caught in a metaphysical storm. Well, this only confirmed the obvious. The Uru was a magical metal. That meant that it was time to resort to the main instrument. It was time to resort to Essence Smith.
I touched the metal. And the world narrowed down to a single point.
This was incredible.
I had expected to feel an invested power. I had expected to feel a hidden purpose. I had expected to feel a special ability. But the Uru was above all of this. I felt nothing... and, simultaneously, I felt everything. I felt a pure, absolute, and boundless POTENTIAL.
It was empty. But this wasn't the emptiness of an absence. It was the emptiness of infinite possibilities. Its fundamental concepts were Affinity, Conductivity, and Symbiosis. I felt its... desire. It didn't want to be simply a tool. It yearned to become a part of something greater.
Inspired, and stunned by this discovery, I deconstructed the phenomenon. The contradictory scientific results... now, I understood. The Uru had reacted to my intention! It had reacted to the finest fluctuations of the energy fields in the laboratory! It wasn't an object of the experiment. It was a subject of it. From this, a fundamental law followed. The Uru is a passive, metaphysical amplifier and conductor.
The final conclusion crashed down upon me, making me recoil from the table.
The Uru is a spiritually saturated, porous metal. Its true nature consists in its ability to absorb into its "soul," to store in its "heart," and to multiply and amplify any concept or energy that is invested in it. This includes magic, Chi, or a cosmic force. By itself, it is inert. All of its legendary properties, its strength, its lightness, and its ability to return to its owner, are not its own. They are a direct consequence of the magical "programs" that were "written" into it at the moment of its forging. To work with the Uru, you need to be, not a blacksmith, but a mage. And, ideally, you need to be a Technomancer.
With the "Legacy of Munetika," with Essence Smith, and with my Technomancy... It was scary to imagine what this metal would turn into in my hands. I still needed to figure out its processing principle... Ideas were already swarming in my head, but this entire cosmic forge could wait. Again.
Now, I needed to act. I needed to act quickly. I needed to act with maximum effectiveness. I needed to enhance myself. The Extremis. It was long overdue to resolve this question. For it, exotic components were needed, and deliveries through S.H.I.E.L.D. were excluded. They would immediately stick their curious noses into my affairs. That meant that I had to go through Lucas. But here, a problem arose.
Earlier, when I had been a nobody, I could have called him, and there would have existed a non-zero chance that the call would have remained unnoticed. There would have been a minimal digital hygiene, and there would have been his protected channel. But now? After everything that had happened, I almost physically felt, on myself, the hypothetical gazes of hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D., and, worse, Hydra, analysts. Every byte of my information would be under a microscope. Before I could do anything, I needed to resolve the communications question. I needed to create a defense system that would allow me to call any person, here and now, without fearing a wiretapping. And the wiretapping would exist.
I rubbed the back of my head, running through the options in my mind. There were sophisticated quantum encryption systems, satellite relays, and digital "ghosts." All of this required a time that I didn't have. Perfection is the enemy of the good. I needed something simple, elegant, and working right now.
The idea came by itself. It wouldn't be an encryption. It would be an illusion. It wouldn't be a lock. It would be a mirage. It would be a two-tier system. There would be a hardware module for protecting the conversation itself, and there would be a software for masking the metadata. The second part could be postponed. The main thing was that nobody would hear what I was saying.
Instead of encrypting the signal, which could be intercepted and then tortured for hours with supercomputers, I would create a device that would distort the very source of the sound. It would distort my voice. It would turn it into an audio-CAPTCHA, in real time. It would be understandable for the person on the other end of the wire, but it would represent an unreproducible chaos for any recording equipment.
I immediately deployed the holographic CAD. My fingers danced in the air, weaving, from light, the housing and the custom FPGA chip architecture. This would be a small module that would connect directly to the phone's port, and it would have its own, high-quality microphone.
Then, I began to "teach" the chip to lie. In real time, its algorithm would do three things with my voice. First, it would constantly and chaotically shift certain frequencies by fractions of a percent, making the timbre elusively "floating" for the machine. Second, it would add to the signal layers of sub-harmonic and ultrasonic artifacts. It would add sound garbage that the human ear would filter out, but that would drive any digital analyzer crazy. And third, the cherry on top, it would create microscopic, constantly changing echoes. These would make a precise determination of the sound source impossible.
The person on the other end of the wire would hear my voice, possibly with some barely noticeable distortions, like with a poor connection. But any eavesdropping system would record only a white noise. Any attempt to "clean" such a recording would only lead to its complete destruction.
The housing was printed on the 3D printer. The chip was born in the depths of the photolithography installation. I quickly wrote and flashed into it the firmware that implemented the acoustic, chaotic illusion algorithm. The hardware part was finished. The advanced software... I would make that later. There was no time. It was already almost two p.m.
As soon as I set aside the finished device, the System immediately registered my creation.
[Device "Acoustic Scrambler" created. Complexity: Low. Received +150 OP!]
A hardware module that applies a chaotic illusion algorithm to the user's voice in real time. It makes the speech unreproducible for digital recording systems, while it maintains its intelligibility for the human ear.
I returned to the lobby, I connected the scrambler to the phone, and, without losing a minute, I dialed the number.
"Hello, Lucas." I said into the module's microphone. "This is going to be the biggest order of your life."
On the other end of the wire, a silence reigned. Then, an absolutely impassive, professional voice, one that nothing in this world could surprise, sounded.
"I'm listening."
Over the next couple of minutes, I dictated, or, more precisely, I described, exactly what I needed. There were just two components. One of them was the most important, and it was very expensive. I needed a strain of the Metallosphaera sedula archaea, which was extracted from the hydrothermal sources at a volcano on the floor of the Mariana Trench. It was an ideal foundation for the thermostability genes. And I needed a purified Ghost Orchid extract. It was an ideal biological stabilizer that would prevent cancerous mutations.
"Thirty-seven million." Lucas summed it up. His voice didn't waver. I perfectly understood that ninety-nine percent of this price was for the tiny sample of life from the ocean floor. "The delivery will take one week. If you need it today..."
He fell silent. This pause wasn't for calculations. He was assessing how realistic it would be to obtain something similar quickly, without sending an advanced expedition, one that would most likely also consist of meta-mercenaries.
"Forty-two million." The updated price finally sounded.
"Today." I agreed, through gritted teeth. The figure stung, but this was just a pittance, compared to the billions that a stable Extremis would be valued at.
"Good. Send me the coordinates. You'll have it by the evening." Lucas concluded the call, just as matter-of-factly as if we were arranging a pizza delivery.
Okay. Until the evening, there were several hours. It was time to finally call Frank. And I needed to, at last, thoroughly think over the architecture of the nanobots and the materials for the Extremis.
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2.Marvel: Cosmic Forger of Infinity = CHAPTER 114
3.Harry Potter: Beyond Good and Evil in the Wizarding World = CHAPTER 170
4.Harry Potter: Reborn as Draco Black = CHAPTER 41
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