I woke up to sunlight and the distant sound of traffic.
The apartment was quiet. The drones sat on their shelves, charging, waiting. The stacks of cash from yesterday were still piled in the corner—$400,000 in neatly organized bundles that I hadn't bothered to hide yet. I'd been too tired last night, too overwhelmed by everything that had happened.
I sat up and looked at myself in the dresser mirror across the room.
The reflection still surprised me. Six-two. Two hundred and twenty pounds. Broad shoulders, defined arms, a chest that filled out my t-shirt. The face was sharper now, more angular, the kind of face that people noticed. Amber eyes that seemed to catch the light differently than before.
I wasn't the same person who'd woken up in this world three weeks ago. Not physically. Not mentally. Not in any way that mattered.
I swung my legs out of bed and walked to the closet.
The clothes I'd bought yesterday—the ones that had fit this new body—were hanging there. Dark jeans, a few plain t-shirts, a black hoodie that was actually loose instead of tight. I grabbed a grey t-shirt and the jeans, laid them on the bed.
Then I stopped.
I looked down at myself. The t-shirt I was wearing—one of the old ones, from before the transformation—was stretched tight across my chest, the sleeves cutting into my arms. The jeans were loose around my waist but tight around my thighs. Nothing fit. Nothing from before would ever fit again.
I needed new clothes. Again.
I sighed and pulled on the old t-shirt anyway. It would have to do for the trip to the store.
Breakfast was fast and large.
I used a receipt for a diner breakfast—eggs, bacon, pancakes, hash browns, orange juice, coffee—and ate everything in under ten minutes. The gym memberships had changed my metabolism along with my body. I was hungry all the time now, my body demanding fuel for all the new muscle.
I showered, scrubbing away the sweat from last night's fights, and dressed in the too-small clothes. The t-shirt pulled across my chest. The jeans were tight in all the wrong places. I looked ridiculous, like a bodybuilder trying to fit into a child's clothes.
I grabbed my backpack—the new one, packed with notebooks and pens and the calculator I'd bought yesterday—and headed out.
The clothing store was the same one I'd been to before. I walked in, grabbed the largest sizes they had, and headed to the fitting room. Three pairs of jeans. Six t-shirts. Two hoodies. A jacket. Socks, underwear, everything.
I tried everything on, made sure it fit, and brought it to the counter.
"That's quite a haul," the cashier said, a young woman with pink hair and a nose ring. "New wardrobe?"
"Something like that."
I paid cash, took the receipt, and asked if I could use the restroom. She pointed me to the back of the store.
I locked the door, pulled off the old clothes, and put on the new ones. The difference was immediate. The jeans fit perfectly, moving with my legs instead of binding them. The t-shirt was loose across my chest but not baggy. The hoodie—dark grey, thick fabric—hung right.
I stuffed the old clothes into my backpack, folded the receipts carefully into my wallet, and walked out.
The walk to school was short.
Regency High School was a red brick building that looked like every other high school in America. Wide windows, a flagpole out front, a sign announcing sports scores and upcoming events. Students milled around the entrance, laughing, talking, living their normal lives.
I walked through the front doors and into a world I hadn't seen in weeks.
The hallways were crowded. Lockers slammed. Voices echoed off the tile floors. I moved through it all like a ghost, my eyes scanning, my mind cataloging. The cognitive enhancement made everything sharper—the conversations I could pick out of the noise, the faces I could recognize from across the room, the subtle social dynamics playing out in every corner.
I found the main office and got my schedule. The woman behind the counter looked at me twice—once at my face, once at my build—and handed over a piece of paper without comment.
First period: English. Room 204.
I headed down the hall, my backpack slung over one shoulder, and tried to remember the last time I'd been in a classroom. The autopilot had handled school before I woke up, but those memories were fuzzy, like watching a movie through a dirty lens. I knew the layout of the building. I knew where my classes were. But I didn't know the people. Didn't know the teachers. Didn't know anything that mattered.
I found Room 204 and walked in.
The classroom was half-full, students scattered across the desks, talking in small groups. I found a seat near the back, by the window, and sat down. The desk was too small for my legs—I had to stretch them out into the aisle.
A few students looked at me. A few more stared. I was new. I was big. I was sitting in a seat that someone else probably wanted.
I ignored them.
Second period was different.
Math. Room 112. The desks were arranged in rows, the whiteboard covered in equations I could solve in my sleep. I took a seat in the back again, pulled out a notebook, and waited.
The door opened. A kid walked in—shorter than me, dark hair, brown skin, wearing a hoodie and jeans. He looked around, spotted me, and sat down in the desk next to mine.
"Hey," he said. "You're new?"
"Returning," I said. "I was out for a while."
"Ah. Sick?"
"Something like that."
He nodded, not pushing. "I'm Mark. Mark Grayson."
I turned to look at him. Mark Grayson. The Mark Grayson. Future Invincible. Son of Omni-Man. The center of everything that was coming.
He looked normal. Just a kid. Fourteen years old, a year younger than me, smaller than me by a lot. His face was open, friendly, the kind of face that made people trust him.
"Ren," I said. "Ren Akiyama."
"Cool name. Where are you from?"
"Here. Just been... away."
He nodded again, accepting the non-answer. "Well, welcome back. If you need help finding your classes or anything, let me know."
"Thanks."
The teacher walked in, and the conversation ended. But I'd made the connection. Small, simple, nothing special. But it was a start.
Third period was when the attention started.
Gym. The locker room was crowded, boys changing into shorts and t-shirts, talking about sports and video games and girls. I stripped off my hoodie and changed into the gym clothes I'd bought yesterday.
The room went quiet.
I looked up. A few guys were staring at me. One of them—big, blonde, the kind of guy who probably played football—walked over.
"Dude," he said. "What's your routine?"
I blinked. "What?"
"Your routine. Your workout. I've been lifting for two years and I don't look like that. What are you on?"
"Nothing," I said. "Just... consistent."
He laughed. "Consistent. Right." He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my arms, my chest. "You play sports?"
"Not really."
"You should. Coach Henderson would kill for someone your size on the line. You ever play football?"
"No."
"Basketball? You're tall enough."
"Not really."
He shook his head, grinning. "Man, what do you do with all that muscle if you don't play sports?"
I shrugged. "Lift things. Open jars."
He laughed again, louder this time, and a few other guys joined in. "I'm Derek," he said, sticking out his hand. "You ever change your mind about football, you let me know."
"Ren," I said, shaking his hand. "I'll think about it."
Another guy walked over—shorter, stockier, with close-cropped hair and a wrestling t-shirt. "Dude, you wrestle? With that reach, you'd be unstoppable."
"I don't wrestle."
"You should. Practices are Tuesdays and Thursdays. Coach Miller's always looking for heavyweights."
"I'll think about it."
The questions kept coming. What did you eat? How much could you bench? Did you play any sports at your old school? Were you training for something?
I answered as vaguely as possible, deflecting, redirecting, keeping the attention on them instead of me. By the time gym class started, I'd been invited to join three sports teams, asked for my number by two guys who wanted workout advice, and complimented on my "gains" by at least a dozen people.
It was exhausting. But it was useful. Attention meant connections. Connections meant receipts.
I made a mental note: ask everyone for receipts. Always ask.
Lunch was in the cafeteria.
I found a table near the back, away from the crowds, and pulled out the lunch I'd packed—a sandwich, an apple, a bottle of water. Nothing special. But I wasn't really here for the food.
Mark sat down across from me. He had a tray with pizza and a carton of milk.
"Hey," he said. "Mind if I sit?"
"Go ahead."
He sat, took a bite of pizza, and looked at me. "So. You're in my math class. And English, I think. And gym."
"Yeah. We have a few together."
"You seem... different. Than the other guys, I mean. You don't talk much."
"I don't have much to say."
He shrugged. "Fair enough." He took another bite, chewed, swallowed. "You want to sit with us at lunch? Me and my friends, I mean. We're over there." He pointed to a table near the windows, where a group of kids were laughing about something.
I looked at the table. At the faces. At the normal, everyday lives they were living.
"Sure," I said. "Maybe tomorrow."
He nodded, smiled, and went back to his pizza.
I watched him for a moment. Mark Grayson. The kid who would one day fight his own father. Who would be beaten within an inch of his life. Who would watch people die, cities burn, worlds end.
He didn't know any of it. He was just a kid eating pizza, trying to make friends with the new guy.
I felt something I hadn't expected. Not pity—Mark didn't need my pity. But something like... kinship. We were both hiding things. Both waiting for something to happen. Both pretending to be normal when we were anything but.
I finished my lunch and headed to my next class.
The rest of the school day was uneventful.
I went to classes, took notes I didn't need, answered questions I already knew. Teachers looked at me with mild surprise—I was bigger than my file suggested, older than my face looked. Students whispered, pointed, stared.
I ignored them all.
By the time the final bell rang, I had a list of names in my head. Teachers who seemed competent. Students who might be useful. Social dynamics I could exploit.
But most importantly, I had a plan for after school.
I walked home fast, my backpack bouncing against my shoulders, my mind already racing ahead.
The black market site was one I'd found weeks ago, buried in the depths of the dark web. It was called The Archive—a marketplace for things that couldn't be bought legally. Weapons, documents, identities. And, I'd discovered, educational materials.
University courses. Master's degree programs. PhD dissertations. People sold receipts for them—physical receipts, the kind that proved you'd paid for the course—and other people bought them to claim the education for themselves.
I'd been watching the site for weeks, waiting for the right listings to appear. Today, they had.
I sat down at my computer, pulled up the site, and started searching.
The listings were organized by category. Mathematics. Physics. Engineering. Computer Science. Robotics. Each one was a receipt for a real course, a real program, a real degree. The sellers were students, graduates, sometimes even professors who'd kept their entire receipts for exactly this purpose.
I started adding to my cart.
Aerospace Engineering. Master's Degree. $500.
Electrical Engineering. Master's Degree. $500.
Computer Science. Master's Degree. $500.
System Integration. Master's Certificate. $300.
Computer Vision & AI. Master's Certificate. $300.
Laser & Optical Engineering. Master's Certificate. $300.
Flight Control & Autonomy. Master's Certificate. $300.
Quantum Mechanics. PhD-level course. $400.
Thermodynamics. PhD-level course. $400.
Electromagnetism. PhD-level course. $400.
Quantum Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Relativity. PhD-level course. $400.
Nuclear Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Particle Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Astrophysics. PhD-level course. $400.
Solid State Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Biological Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Geophysics. PhD-level course. $400.
Computational Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Medical Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Theoretical Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Mathematical Physics. PhD-level course. $400.
Theoretical Statistics. Master's Degree. $500.
Probability Theory. Master's Degree. $500.
Computational Statistics. Master's Degree. $500.
Machine Learning. Master's Degree. $500.
Actuarial Science. Master's Degree. $500.
Algebraic Geometry. Master's Degree. $500.
Graph Theory. Master's Degree. $500.
Combinatorics. Master's Degree. $500.
Cryptology. Master's Degree. $500.
Cryptography. Master's Degree. $500.
Set Theory. Master's Degree. $500.
Numerical Analysis. Master's Degree. $500.
Robot Design & Mechanisms. Master's Certificate. $300.
Kinematics and Dynamics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Soft Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Bio-inspired Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Control Theory. Master's Certificate. $300.
Autonomous Systems. Master's Certificate. $300.
Field Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Swarm Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Computer Vision. Master's Certificate. $300.
Robot Vision. Master's Certificate. $300.
SLAM. Master's Certificate. $300.
Medical Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Surgical Robotics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Embedded Systems. Master's Certificate. $300.
Firmware Development. Master's Certificate. $300.
Dynamics, Navigation & Control. Master's Certificate. $300.
Perception & Cognitive Systems. Master's Certificate. $300.
Robotics & Mechatronics. Master's Degree. $500.
Medical Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Bio-robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Red Team Operations. Master's Certificate. $300.
Advanced Pentesting. Master's Certificate. $300.
Active Directory Hacking. Master's Certificate. $300.
Web Application Penetration Testing. Master's Certificate. $300.
Exploit Development. Master's Certificate. $300.
Malware Analysis. Master's Certificate. $300.
AI-Integrated Ethical Hacking. Master's Certificate. $300.
Digital Forensics. Master's Certificate. $300.
Incident Response. Master's Certificate. $300.
Purple Team Operations. Master's Certificate. $300.
Artificial Intelligence. Master's Degree. $500.
Machine Learning. Master's Degree. $500.
Autonomous Systems and Control. Master's Degree. $500.
Mechatronics and Robot Design. Master's Degree. $500.
Aerial Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Marine Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Industrial Automation. Master's Degree. $500.
Manufacturing Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Micro Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
Nano-Robotics. Master's Degree. $500.
The total came to something ridiculous. I stopped counting after the first hundred items.
I placed the order, pay with cash though it would cost extra, and arranged for delivery. The seller—some anonymous account with a five-star rating—agreed to meet me in an alley behind a coffee shop downtown.
I grabbed my hoodie and headed out.
The alley was dark, the kind of place where streetlights didn't reach. I stood in the shadows, my hands in my pockets, and waited.
A figure appeared at the end of the alley—tall, thin, wearing a hoodie similar to mine. They walked toward me without speaking, stopped a few feet away, and held out a manila envelope.
"Receipts," they said. Their voice was flat, genderless, distorted by a voice changer. "All originals. Check them if you want."
I took the envelope, opened it, and looked inside.
Dozens of receipts. Hundreds. Each one a small slip of paper, each one proof of purchase for a course, a program, a degree. The ink was fresh, the paper crisp. They were real.
I handed over 12 thick envelopes of cash $43,000 total due to the extra fees. The figure counted it quickly, nodded, and walked away.
I waited until they were gone, then walked home.
My apartment was dark when I got back.
I locked the door, sat down on the floor, and spread the receipts out in front of me. They covered the living room carpet, a sea of white paper and black ink. Dozens of courses. Hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of education.
I took a breath.
Then I started copying.
The printer ran for an hour, spitting out duplicates of every receipt. I fed each original through the scanner, saved the digital file, and printed perfect copies. The originals went into my lockbox. The copies went into a pile on the floor.
When I was done, I held the first copy in my hand.
A receipt for a Master's Degree in Aerospace Engineering. A full program, two years of study, compressed into a single slip of paper.
I pushed my Cursed Energy into it.
The receipt burned. And knowledge flooded into my mind.
It wasn't like learning. It was like remembering.
One moment, I didn't know how to calculate the thrust-to-weight ratio of a rocket. The next moment, I did. The equations were there, complete and perfect, as if I'd spent years studying them. The principles of aerodynamics, the mechanics of propulsion, the materials science of spacecraft construction—all of it, slotting into place like puzzle pieces I hadn't known I was missing.
I grabbed another receipt. Electrical Engineering.
The knowledge came faster this time. Circuits, semiconductors, signal processing. The physics of electrons moving through wires. The mathematics of power distribution. The design of systems that turned raw electricity into something useful.
Another. Computer Science.
Algorithms, data structures, programming languages. The logic of computation, the architecture of processors, the theory of information. I understood how computers worked now—not just how to use them, but how to build them, how to program them, how to make them do anything I wanted.
Another. System Integration.
The art of combining systems into larger systems. How to make different components work together. How to design interfaces, protocols, architectures that scaled.
Another. Computer Vision.
How to make machines see. Image processing, pattern recognition, neural networks. The mathematics of turning pixels into understanding.
Another. Laser Engineering.
The physics of light, the design of optical systems, the applications of high-energy beams. I understood how lasers worked now—how to build them, how to focus them, how to use them as weapons or tools.
Another. Flight Control.
The algorithms that kept aircraft stable. PID controllers, state estimation, sensor fusion. The same principles I'd been struggling with on my drones, now crystal clear, complete with years of practical knowledge.
Another. Quantum Mechanics.
The world stopped making sense.
Wave functions, superposition, entanglement. The universe as a set of probabilities rather than certainties. The mathematics was beautiful, elegant, completely unlike anything I'd learned before. I understood it—not deeply, not intuitively, but I understood it. The equations made sense. The concepts fit together.
Another. Thermodynamics.
Energy, entropy, heat transfer. The laws that governed everything from stars to engines to the human body.
Another. Electromagnetism.
Fields, forces, radiation. The invisible web that held atoms together, that powered every electronic device, that made light itself possible.
Another. Relativity.
Space and time, curved and stretched. The realization that everything I thought I knew about the universe was wrong.
Another. Nuclear Physics.
The hearts of atoms, splitting and fusing. The forces that powered stars and bombs. The mathematics of the very small.
Another. Particle Physics.
Quarks, leptons, bosons. The standard model, complete and detailed. The building blocks of reality.
Another. Astrophysics.
Stars, galaxies, black holes. The large-scale structure of the universe. The physics of things too big to comprehend.
Another. Solid State Physics.
Crystals, semiconductors, quantum dots. The physics of the materials that made modern technology possible.
Another. Biological Physics.
The physics of life. Protein folding, molecular motors, neural networks. The application of physical principles to biological systems.
Another. Geophysics.
The physics of the Earth. Plate tectonics, seismology, the magnetic field that protected us from solar radiation.
Another. Computational Physics.
Simulating physical systems. Numerical methods, Monte Carlo simulations, the art of using computers to understand the universe.
Another. Medical Physics.
The physics of medicine. Radiation therapy, medical imaging, the application of physical principles to healing.
Another. Theoretical Physics.
The frontier of knowledge. String theory, quantum gravity, the search for a theory of everything. I didn't understand all of it—no one did. But I understood the questions, the approaches, the mathematics that might someday lead to answers.
Another. Mathematical Physics.
The intersection of mathematics and physics. Differential geometry, topology, the language of modern physics.
Another. Theoretical Statistics.
The mathematics of uncertainty. Probability distributions, Bayesian inference, the logic of making decisions with incomplete information.
Another. Probability Theory.
The foundation of statistics. Random variables, expected values, the laws of large numbers.
Another. Computational Statistics.
Using computers to do statistics. Machine learning, data mining, the algorithms that found patterns in noise.
Another. Machine Learning.
The art of teaching computers to learn. Neural networks, deep learning, reinforcement learning. The technology that was changing the world.
Another. Actuarial Science.
The mathematics of risk. Insurance, finance, the calculation of probabilities in the real world.
Another. Algebraic Geometry.
The study of shapes defined by polynomials. Abstract, beautiful, useful in ways I was only beginning to understand.
Another. Graph Theory.
The study of networks. Nodes and edges, paths and cycles, the mathematics of connection.
Another. Combinatorics.
The mathematics of counting. Permutations, combinations, the art of arranging things.
Another. Cryptology.
The mathematics of secrets. Encryption, decryption, the art of hiding information.
Another. Cryptography.
The practice of secure communication. Ciphers, protocols, the technology of keeping secrets.
Another. Set Theory.
The foundation of mathematics. Sets, subsets, infinities. The rules that everything else was built on.
Another. Numerical Analysis.
The mathematics of approximation. Algorithms for solving equations that couldn't be solved exactly.
Another. Robot Design.
The art of building machines that moved. Actuators, linkages, the mechanical design of robots.
Another. Kinematics and Dynamics.
The mathematics of motion. How robots moved, how they interacted with the world, how to control them.
Another. Soft Robotics.
Robots made of flexible materials. The design of machines that could squeeze through tight spaces, that could handle delicate objects, that could adapt to their environment.
Another. Bio-inspired Robotics.
Robots that copied nature. Insects, birds, fish—the solutions evolution had found, applied to engineering.
Another. Control Theory.
The mathematics of making things do what you wanted. Feedback loops, stability, the art of control.
Another. Autonomous Systems.
Robots that made their own decisions. Planning, navigation, the algorithms that let machines operate without human input.
Another. Field Robotics.
Robots that worked outside the lab. Harsh environments, unpredictable conditions, the challenges of real-world operation.
Another. Swarm Robotics.
Many robots working together. Coordination, communication, the emergence of collective intelligence.
Another. Computer Vision for Robots.
Helping robots see. Object detection, scene understanding, the translation of pixels into action.
Another. SLAM.
Simultaneous Localization and Mapping. The problem of building a map while figuring out where you were on it. The core challenge of autonomous navigation.
Another. Medical Robotics.
Robots that saved lives. Surgical assistants, rehabilitation devices, the application of robotics to healthcare.
Another. Surgical Robotics.
Robots that performed surgery. Precision, dexterity, the integration of robotics into the operating room.
Another. Embedded Systems.
Computers inside other machines. Microcontrollers, real-time operating systems, the art of making computers small and efficient.
Another. Firmware Development.
The software that ran on embedded systems. Low-level programming, hardware interaction, the code that made devices work.
Another. Dynamics, Navigation & Control.
The integration of motion, positioning, and control. How robots moved through the world and knew where they were.
Another. Perception & Cognitive Systems.
Giving robots understanding. Sensors, interpretation, the bridge between data and meaning.
Another. Robotics & Mechatronics.
The integration of robotics and mechanical engineering. The design of systems that combined computation with physical action.
Another. Medical Robotics (advanced).
Deeper into the application of robotics to medicine. Teleoperation, haptics, the challenges of remote surgery.
Another. Bio-robotics.
Robots that interacted with living systems. Prosthetics, exoskeletons, the merging of machine and body.
Another. Red Team Operations.
The art of attacking systems to find weaknesses. Ethical hacking, penetration testing, the mindset of the attacker.
Another. Advanced Pentesting.
Going deeper into the methods of breaking into systems. Network attacks, social engineering, the techniques used by real hackers.
Another. Active Directory Hacking.
The specific art of attacking Windows domain networks. The heart of corporate IT, and all its vulnerabilities.
Another. Web Application Penetration Testing.
Attacking web applications. SQL injection, cross-site scripting, the flaws that made websites vulnerable.
Another. Exploit Development.
Writing code that took advantage of vulnerabilities. Buffer overflows, return-oriented programming, the art of turning bugs into control.
Another. Malware Analysis.
Understanding malicious software. Reverse engineering, behavior analysis, the art of figuring out what malware did.
Another. AI-Integrated Ethical Hacking.
Using artificial intelligence to hack. Automated vulnerability discovery, intelligent attack planning, the next generation of cybersecurity.
Another. Digital Forensics.
Investigating cyber crimes. Recovering data, analyzing logs, the art of finding evidence in digital systems.
Another. Incident Response.
Reacting to security breaches. Containment, eradication, recovery, the process of handling a hack.
Another. Purple Team Operations.
Combining red team (attack) and blue team (defense). Collaboration, learning, the art of improving security through adversarial testing.
Another. Artificial Intelligence.
The broader field of machine intelligence. Search, reasoning, planning, the foundations of AI.
Another. Machine Learning (advanced).
Deeper into the algorithms that learned from data. Deep learning, reinforcement learning, the cutting edge.
Another. Autonomous Systems and Control (advanced).
The integration of AI with physical systems. Self-driving cars, autonomous drones, the future of robotics.
Another. Mechatronics and Robot Design (advanced).
The combination of mechanical, electrical, and software engineering. The design of complex robotic systems.
Another. Aerial Robotics.
Drones, flying robots, the challenges of operating in three dimensions.
Another. Marine Robotics.
Robots that worked underwater. Submarines, ROVs, the unique challenges of the deep.
Another. Industrial Automation.
Robots in factories. Assembly lines, quality control, the automation of manufacturing.
Another. Manufacturing Robotics.
The specific application of robotics to making things. CNC machines, 3D printers, the robots that built everything else.
Another. Micro Robotics.
Robots too small to see. Micrometers in size, the challenges of operating at tiny scales.
Another. Nano-Robotics.
Robots at the scale of molecules. Theoretical for now, but I understood the principles. The future of medicine, manufacturing, everything.
The knowledge kept coming.
Receipt after receipt, course after course, degree after degree. My mind expanded, stretched, grew to accommodate the information. The cognitive enhancement from Puppet Manipulation worked overtime, processing the flood of data, organizing it, integrating it with what I already knew.
And then, around the fiftieth receipt, something happened.
My nose started to bleed.
I wiped it with the back of my hand, kept going. The knowledge was still flowing, still integrating, but my body was struggling to keep up. The blood vessels in my nose were bursting under the strain, my eyes were watering, my head was pounding.
But it didn't hurt.
That was the strange part. My head should have been splitting open. A hundred years of education, compressed into minutes, should have broken me. But the cognitive enhancement—the modification I'd made to Puppet Manipulation—was holding. My brain was processing the information as fast as it came in, filing it away, making connections.
The nosebleed was nothing. Just a physical reflex to the slight mental overload.
I kept going.
Sixty receipts. Seventy. Eighty.
The pile on the floor was shrinking. The knowledge in my head was growing. I understood things now that I hadn't known existed a week ago. I could design a rocket, program an AI, break into a secure network, build a robot from scratch. The information was there, complete and perfect, waiting for me to use it.
Ninety receipts. A hundred.
I finished the last one—Nano-Robotics, the most advanced course in the pile—and sat back. The floor was covered in burned paper ash. My nose was still bleeding, my eyes were red, my head was spinning.
But I understood.
I understood everything.
I sat there for a long time, letting the knowledge settle, letting my brain process the flood of information. The cognitive enhancement was working overtime, building connections, integrating new concepts with old ones. I could feel it happening—the neural pathways forming, the memories encoding, the understanding deepening.
Aerospace Engineering. Electrical Engineering. Computer Science. System Integration. Computer Vision. AI. Laser Engineering. Flight Control. Quantum Mechanics. Thermodynamics. Electromagnetism. Quantum Physics. Relativity. Nuclear Physics. Particle Physics. Astrophysics. Solid State Physics. Biological Physics. Geophysics. Computational Physics. Medical Physics. Theoretical Physics. Mathematical Physics. Statistics. Probability. Machine Learning. Actuarial Science. Algebraic Geometry. Graph Theory. Combinatorics. Cryptology. Cryptography. Set Theory. Numerical Analysis. Robot Design. Kinematics. Soft Robotics. Bio-inspired Robotics. Control Theory. Autonomous Systems. Field Robotics. Swarm Robotics. Computer Vision for Robots. SLAM. Medical Robotics. Surgical Robotics. Embedded Systems. Firmware. Dynamics. Navigation. Control. Perception. Cognitive Systems. Robotics. Mechatronics. Bio-robotics. Red Teaming. Pentesting. Active Directory Hacking. Web App Pentesting. Exploit Development. Malware Analysis. AI Hacking. Digital Forensics. Incident Response. Purple Teaming. Artificial Intelligence. Advanced Machine Learning. Autonomous Systems. Aerial Robotics. Marine Robotics. Industrial Automation. Manufacturing Robotics. Micro Robotics. Nano-Robotics.
All of it. Years of education, decades of knowledge, compressed into minutes.
I stood up, walked to the bathroom, and looked at myself in the mirror. Blood was smeared across my face, drying on my lips and chin. My eyes were bloodshot, the whites shot through with red. But my pupils were wide, focused, alive.
I smiled at my reflection. It was a strange expression on my blood-streaked face, but it felt right.
"I know things now," I said to myself. "I know so many things."
I cleaned up, washed the blood off my face, and sat down at my desk.
The sketches started flowing.
I grabbed a notebook—one of the ones I'd bought for school—and started drawing. Designs for robots, drones, systems. The knowledge was there, complete and perfect, waiting to be used.
Aerial surveillance drone. Quadcopter design, optimized for endurance. Battery life: six hours. Range: fifty miles. Payload: five pounds. I sketched the frame, the motors, the control systems. The math was easy now—I could calculate the lift coefficients in my head, optimize the propeller design without thinking.
Ground reconnaissance robot. Six-legged design, based on insect locomotion. Small enough to fit through doorways, quiet enough to go unnoticed. Cameras, microphones, a small manipulator arm. I sketched the kinematics, the gait patterns, the control algorithms.
Combat drone. Heavier, faster, armed. Quadcopter design with reinforced frame, redundant systems, armor plating. Four guns, same as before, but integrated better. The recoil compensation was trivial now—I understood the physics, the control theory, the algorithms that would keep it stable.
Swarm controller. A central unit that coordinated multiple drones. I sketched the communication protocols, the task allocation algorithms, the fail-safes. With this, I could control hundreds of drones simultaneously, each one acting on its own but following my overall plan.
i created many sketches of human exoskeleton suits that allowed flight and advanced weaponry, advanced flight systems and data analysis capabilities
ideas flowed as i wrote and drew creating new spectacles for different situations as my mind wondered
I filled page after page, the sketches becoming more detailed, more complex. The knowledge in my head was like a map—I could see the connections between fields, the ways that aerospace engineering intersected with computer science, the ways that control theory applied to everything from drones to data networks.
I stopped when my hand cramped, hours later. The notebook was full. The designs were complete.
I looked at what I'd created and felt something I hadn't felt before.
Pride.
Not the hollow pride of power, not the arrogant pride of superiority. Just... pride. In what I'd built. In what I'd become. In the knowledge that I was ready for what was coming.
I thought about the future.
Not the immediate future—tomorrow, next week, next month. The real future. The one where Viltrumites came to Earth and everything changed.
I had the knowledge now. The engineering, the robotics, the AI. I could build things that would matter. Things that could fight. Things that could survive.
But I wasn't ready for biology yet. Or chemistry. The knowledge I'd absorbed tonight was massive—a hundred years of education, compressed into minutes. My brain had handled it, but barely. The nosebleed was proof of that. If I tried to add more, I might break something.
So I'd wait. Focus on robotics first. Build the drones, build the systems, build the army. Then, when my mind had fully integrated what I'd learned, intermediate preparations are complete and my focus could shift, I'd come back for the rest.
Biology. Chemistry. The science of life itself.
I had plans for that. Big plans. Plans that would take years to build, that would require knowledge I didn't have yet.
But I would have it. I would have all of it.
I went to bed late, my head still spinning with equations and algorithms and designs.
The drones sat on their shelves, waiting. The receipts sat in their lockbox, safe. The knowledge sat in my mind, ready.
I closed my eyes and let the exhaustion pull me under.
Tomorrow, I'd go back to school. I'd sit in classes I'd already mastered. I'd talk to Mark, to the other students, my main goal was to build friendly relations in this world for future plans
But tonight, I dreamed of machines. Swarms of them, filling the sky, moving to my will a future where i was [INVINCIBLE]