“Ray, it’s time to wake up.” An assistant shook the sleeping body slumped over a desk cluttered with holographic notes, letters, and intricate drawings. The dim light from the holograms casting soft shadows across the room, highlighting the exhaustion etched into Ray’s face. “Oi~ wake up.” The assistant continued to shake the sleeping log more aggressively, her voice tinged with a mix of urgency and frustration.

  “WAKE UP!” The assistant grabbing the largest data pad from the desk, smacking it flat on the surface. “The experiment can’t start without you!” Beakers and papers scattered from the sheer force, the metal walls echoing the incident throughout the infrastructure.

  “Agh! ... Hmm.” Rayleigh jolted awake eyes bloodshot, arms sprawled in shock throwing more items on the tiled floor. Recuperating from a blissful slumber he yawned with a large, bitter, coffee-scented exhale.

  Drowsily, Rayleigh staggered toward the sink, peeling notes off his face. “Can’t you be more gentle when waking someone?” with a long yawn, smaking his lips. “This is why you’re still single.” He kicked canisters and papers out of his way, creating a cacophony of disorder until he reached the door and leaned on the frame like a drunkard, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

  The assistant crossed her arms, her expression a mix of annoyance and concern. “My love life is not your concern, Dr. Never Married.” Her face reddened as she raised a fist, ready to strike the unshaven, unempathetic man.

  Yawning again and stretching his arms above his head, he retorted, “Rude. I have a girl… she just hasn’t found me yet. Why are you waking me up? I just left the research station barely an hour ago.” He stumbled toward the micro-mist faucet, splashing water on his face to wash away the remnants of sleep.

  Gazing back into his office, ignoring the angered, flushed face of the secretary, he saw the cold stained-glass pot surrounded by discarded nutrient packs. “You could have made a pot before throwing my materials around. There is a very specific filing system I have,” he muttered, expressing his irritation in his uniquely apathetic tone.

  Susanna panned her arm to show the books and papers strewn across the room. “That statement is littered with inaccuracies and garbage, much like your so-called filing system.”

  “And whose job is it to take care of this?” Rayleigh replied dismissively, going through the well-practiced motions of making a new pot of coffee. Barely awake, he turned to Susanna, whose view was obstructed by the shelves between them. The clacking and lights of mechanical parts on the shelf rhythmically moved, adding more chaos to the environment, sensing the presence of humans.

  “There’s no time in the—” The assistant started to raise her voice in objection before she was cut off.

  “Why are you here, Susanna?” Rayleigh picked up his freshly brewed cup of heavy-roasted, ultra-black coffee, supplementing it with caffeine capsules. The subtle melody of mechanical movements and bubbling beakers permeated the metal-walled laboratory, lulling him back to sleep. He stared at the tiled floor, trying to settle his rattled mind from being abruptly awoken.

  Sighing, Susanna softened her voice slightly, a hint of concern creeping in. “The maintenance crew finished the repairs ahead of schedule, and the adjunct science teams completed the simulations and readouts of the ‘Relic,’ including the magnetic coils and capacitors that caused the EMP, knocking out the northeastern power grid.”

  “Incredible what a nearly unlimited budget can do. Wasn’t the ETA for repairs 72 hours?” he asked in an unbothered manner, using a stirring rod to mix the pills more effectively.

  “It has been 71 hours. The Director just got off the holo-foil with two of the Generals of the Eastern Front, explaining why they had no power during the siege of attacks from the Angels of Eden that resulted in casualties of 70,000 personnel.” Susanna fixed her glasses as she responded to the bored-looking Rayleigh with an annoyed and condemning stare.

  “Damn feather-backs. Why can’t they just fall off a—71 hours?” He was taken aback by the elapsed time, dropping the stirring rod. The high-pitched twang of the rod hitting the floor mirrored the abruptness of his eyes snapping open. His heart raced as the reality of the situation sank in.

  “Indeed, while the Director was fighting off General Zaboro and General Yoskovich, who wanted your head, I had to fight the Director to let you sleep.” A look of worry showed in her eyes. “You need to take better care of yourself… enhanced gene solutions and caffeine can never replace sleep. You’re needed for this project.” Her voice softened more as she spoke of his lack of personal awareness.

  Rayleigh was discomforted by the statement, rubbing the back of his neck in nervousness; it was unusual for someone to care about him, in his mind. His eyes darted around, trying to process his next move. In mere moments, he decided it was best to play the fool as he picked up the rod, masking his discomfort with exaggerated gestures.

  “But if I don’t have drowsiness, how can I ever explain how I keep falling into the Director’s bosom?” He flamboyantly gesticulated with a lecherous face. “Ah, those mountains hold a mystery that even our AT-series combat suits can’t contain.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, though his heart wasn’t in the performance.

  “Yes, yes,” Susanna responded with a scripted line, accustomed to him playing the simpleton. Though this would be workplace harassment, she knew what he was trying to escape. She looked down at her data pad, combing through notes and timetables, ignoring the poorly played show in front of her.

  Noticing her dismissive demeanor, Rayleigh made one more attempt to break Susanna’s poker face by blatantly staring at her midriff while donning an expression of regret and pity. “I did fall one time, but was immediately forced awake by a destructive blow.”

  “Yes, ye—” Catching onto his gaze, she blushed in embarrassment and anger. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and she clutched the pad hard enough to crack the screen. “Get out now!” she snapped, walking briskly toward him, her voice trembling with emotions.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Wait, wait, wai—ahhh~!” Rayleigh felt the collar of his shirt grabbed by an almost unnatural force, tossing him to the doorway. His body hit the cold metal wall, making an almost visible dent on the polished surface, matching the other dents.

  Rayleigh stumbled into the hallway, rubbing his sore neck and muttering under his breath. The spectacle could be seen in the security footage: him being thrown out of ‘Lab Research 01.’ “He did it again,” the security guard said in passing, accustomed to this common occurrence, before returning his attention to the comic section.

  After gathering their equipment, Rayleigh and Susanna hurried to the hovercraft, bracing themselves against the biting wind. The cold gnawed at their exposed skin, the howling wind echoing their inner turmoil. After a 30-minute drive through the snow, they stood before a large, reinforced elevator door. The cold, metallic walls of the underground facility were nearly iced over from the snowy tundra's effects, where even advanced droids moved at a snail’s pace against the frost and wind shear. The air carried the scent of ozone and the faint hum of distant generators, a constant reminder of the technological marvels powering their world.

  The two tightened their jackets to fight off the wind and stood in front of the only manned station. “Place the cards on the screens in 3, 2, 1. Now look at the eye scanner… and now place your hand in the Gene Reader. Standby for confirmation.” The security guard switched the intercom on, not willing to suffer the cold, already knowing who was standing out front this late at night.

  “What’s the current status of the AOE?” Rayleigh quickly removed his goggles and glove, placing them back on, his skin already turning blue. His breath came out in visible puffs, a stark contrast to the black, snow-capped mountain behind him.

  “The Angels of Eden took over the Mediterranean Sea and its adjacent countries. Last sighting shows movement towards northern Europe.” Susanna mimicked the same motion but seemed relatively less affected than him. The difference in reactions between them seemed surreal.

  The intercom screeched. “Dr. Solomon, your Gene Read shows a change in your alleles. Have you taken any gene solutions since the last entry?”

  “Yes, my step-sister provided me with a new solution her company created. It allows better memory capacity, eye acuity with—”

  “Name of the series. I will record it.”

  “… RS3-31.”

  Pfft. Susanna held in her laughter, her eyes crinkling with amusement, remembering the package label discarded on the floor earlier with a note reading ‘Rayleigh Solomon Still Single at 31’.

  “What’s got you so tickled?” Oblivious to the note's content, Rayleigh was eyeing the squirming assistant with confusion, boasting about its capabilities.

  “Nothing, nothing. Just enjoying how bickering siblings can still show their affection behind closed doors.” Susanna wiped her tears, with an expression of kindness and familial love hidden by the scarf and goggles.

  “The solution itself is worthy of praise and very compatible with the military-grade nano infusions. Isabella’s nasty personality is only redeemable by her intellect.” Rayleigh scoffed at the notion of him praising his sister and not the gene solution. The complexities of their sibling dynamic laid bare.

  “Whatever you say, Ray.”

  “Now see here-”

  [ACCESS GRANTED, ENTER FACILITY] an automated voice screeched loudly in the distance.

  The metallic doors shifted to a red hue as the surface heated to remove the ice buildup. The rumbling magnetic locks disengaged, shaking the snow at their feet. “All clear. Welcome back, Dr. Rayleigh Solomon and Ms. Susanna Yulong.” After getting the all-clear from the guard, the two stepped into the elevator. The vibrations and strobing lights on their descent added to the somber atmosphere as they mentally prepared for world-saving experimentation.

  “Ugh, it takes forty minutes to use the elevator. I still don’t understand why we don’t get rid of these. It’s a waste of material when we could just replace it with repulsion pads and magnetic stabilizers.” Dr. Solomon’s voice was calm, almost detached, as he expressed his annoyance at the inefficiency of the archaic machines, given current technology could reduce the trip to an estimated three minutes.

  Sigh. “Not everyone wants to experience the feeling of controlled falling, nor do so many people have reinforced bodies as you do. Plus, the main reason we don’t is that the energy needed to support such a construction would be better placed elsewhere. The old way works in times of war and resource management.” Susanna's response was patient, explaining the practical reasons behind their current system.

  “Very true, which is why we need to get this project completed.” Rayleigh’s voice was firm, his mind already shifting back to the task at hand.

  As the elevator doors opened, they stepped into a massive oblong stadium. Desks, sensors, holo?monitors, and droids filled the space, all performing final checks with mechanical precision. At the center stood a colossal sapphire glass dome, its interior machinery encircled by swirling magma. A bright, pulsing spark hovered at its core. The heat rising from the molten currents created a shimmering haze, warping the sterile air.

  “With the ‘Relic’ your family discovered, Ms. Yulong, in conjunction with Dr. Solomon’s technological ingenuity, we should provide the entire planet with perpetual energy. And not just a massive EMP bomb, correct?” The station’s Director, Aithne, approached with crisp steps. Her military dress uniform was immaculate, her crimson braid resting over her right shoulder. Her presence was commanding—her gaze locked onto Rayleigh with a mix of stern warning and dry humor.

  “With the repairs and installment of beryllium casings, we will dampen the ferromagnetic field. The magma's convection currents will push the turbines ceaselessly, generating energy to power all batteries and capacitors. With our understanding of geological conductivity, we can create the illusion of wireless energy.” Dr. Solomon spoke with growing enthusiasm, gesturing animatedly as he explained the system for several uninterrupted minutes.

  “But if it were not for the ‘Relic’ Susanna provided to us, the machine would not have the label of ‘perpetual.’ It was scientifically impossible for an item to repair any damage in its surrounding area, where even nanobots are lesser in comparison. Moreover, it appears to break what we once thought was an impossibility. It can pour more energy out than what’s put into it, which was what caused the EMP surge… etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.” He finally paused, only to find Susanna and Aithne staring at him with half?closed, unimpressed eyes. He raised an eyebrow, unfazed.

  “How did your family ever come across such a thing, Susanna? It’s a scientific marvel. Once this war is over, a ‘Nobel Peace Prize’ would be the dimmest trophy your family will acquire.” Rayleigh was always curious how such a thing existed—a green jade stone that radiated a blinding colorful aura. He often asked her about her family situation but was always met with a non-answer.

  “It has been in my family’s possession for as long as I can remember; the rock only came to life several years ago.” Susanna fixed her glasses in place, subtly glanced at the Director Aithne to intercede. Seeing the glance Aithne’s jaw tightened, arms crossing beneath her uniform. Something unspoken passed between the two women — a shared understanding, a shared burden — before she exhaled sharply.

  Sigh. “So it is fixed then?” The Director, catching the gaze, crossed her arms under her torso, her eyes scanning the room with a mixture of skepticism and authority. Her voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

  “Uh, yes,” Rayleigh replied quickly, his voice wavering. The memory of her fury during the EMP incident—hurling a passing droid at the dome hard enough to crack it—sent a cold sweat down his spine.

  “That energy whatever has been accounted for?” Her eyes narrowed, and an almost palpable pressure exuded from her body. The intensity of her gaze was almost searing.

  “…yes,” he answered, feeling scrutinized under her intense gaze.

  “Systems been checked and green-lighted?”

  “I-I just got here.” Rayleigh stuttered, feeling small under her foreboding appearance.

  A droid hovered over, its metallic body gleaming under the harsh sterile lights, and began to answer her question in place of the ever-shrinking doctor.

  [All parameters met, currently on standby] The droid then moved away from the group having finished its report.

  “Well?” She turned her head back to see Rayleigh uselessly stationary in contrast to his previous energetically flamboyant explanation.

  “Hmm?”

  “GET ON WITH IT!” A vein in her neck pulsated as she yelled, even the droids were taken aback, stopping dead in their tracks.

  “Ah, right.”

  “All stations, start initializing ‘Start up’ sequence and connect the grounded wires in case of a surge!” Dr. Solomon started barking orders, having come back into his element.

  “Surge?” The Director raised her eyebrow in confusion, using her finger to tap her crossed arms, appearing frustrated.

  “To ensure there’s no problem like last time.” He gave an innocent and confident smile.

  [Sequence Completed]

  [Initializing Start up]

  “See? What could go wrong?”