Chapter 101

BORROWED TIME

Alexander stepped out of the room and pulled the door shut behind him. With Metallokinesis he reached into the lock mechanism, twisting components until they seized. The internal workings bent and broke. No one was getting through that door without extra effort.

He glanced both ways down the corridor. Still empty.

The next elevator would arrive in minutes. The team and new ship crew were on board, split between first class and standard passage as planned.

If the guards were found before they cleared the station, it was over. Lockdown protocols would engage automatically. Docking clamps would lock every ship in place. Nothing would leave until security swept the entire facility.

He started walking, retracing his steps through the white employee corridors. The restricted areas were still empty. He passed the intersection where he’d ducked into an office earlier.

When he reached the door leading back to the main plaza, he paused. Reaching through the wall, he interfaced with a camera, checking its feed to make sure he could exit safely.

Then he stepped through, back into the bustle of station life. People moved past in steady streams, none paying attention to another traveler. He turned away from the plaza, heading deeper toward the private docking berths.

As he walked, his awareness swept back across the station the way he’d come, reaching for every security system he’d touched on the way in. One by one, he pulled them back under his influence. The strain settled into his mind like a weight pressing against his temples, noticeable but manageable.

Alexander pulled up his System interface with a thought and initiated a call to Talia. She answered within seconds.

“Vacation plans are all set,” he said quietly. They had decided on coded messages during the planning. It was unlikely, but they couldn’t ignore the possibility that the System’s comms functions might be intercepted.

“Did you organize first class seats for the family?” Talia’s voice carried the faint hum of background noise. She was moving through crowded spaces.

“On my way to do that now. Having some trouble juggling everything at once. How long until you arrive?”

“We’ve already arrived. Going through security now. Just be patient a few more minutes.”

He relaxed slightly. “Good.”

He turned down another corridor, footsteps steady and unhurried. Just another traveler moving through the station.

The System notification appeared without warning, text scrolling across his vision with its familiar appearance.

—

[QUEST]

Multiversal Invasion - Offensive

Voluntary

The Sixth Multiversal Invasion introduces permanent consequences beyond personal defeat. Victory establishes a gateway between realities, accessible only to the victors.

Join the Sixth Multiversal Invasion as an attacker. Strike another reality and prove your Dream superior through conquest.

Reward: 15 attribute points, distributable to any Ascended attribute.

ACCEPT? YES | NO

Time remaining: 2+ days.

—

“Did you just get the email?” Talia asked.

Alexander read it again, heart thudding in his chest.

This wasn’t like the previous five invasions. The System was escalating again. From the sounds of it, winners of this invasion could come and go as they pleased. And from what they’d learned through the previous invasions, the attacks were global. And beyond. Which meant…

His jaw tightened. “Yes. Got it.”

“The gateway thing?” Talia asked. They didn’t have a coded message for this.

“Yeah. This changes things.”

“What should we do?”

One problem at a time. They were in the middle of an operation. The guards could be discovered any moment. The team was exposed on the station. Besides, they’d all agreed when the first voluntary invasion arrived. No multiversal combat unless absolutely necessary. Or if the rewards were essential. Too much risk, too little control. They’d been declining them for months.

He thought about it for a moment. Even with the escalation, there was little to gain for them. They didn’t need nor want a way to attack other realities freely.

“Decision remains the same. Tell the others.”

He declined the quest with a thought.

The second notification hit before the first finished fading.

His steps faltered.

—

[QUEST]

Multiversal Invasion - Defensive

Mandatory

The Sixth Multiversal Invasion introduces permanent consequences beyond personal defeat. Defeat grants invaders exclusive gateway access to your reality.

Grimnir has been randomly selected as defenders. Prevent enemy access to your reality.

Your Dream must always be defended.

Reward: Continue the Dream achievement upgrade (+1% → +3%)

Time remaining: 2+ days.

—

He stopped walking.

“Did you just get the bad news?” Talia’s voice was quiet.

Alexander stared at the mandatory quest. Defenders. Two days to prepare for their second invasion, except this time the stakes were higher. If Grimnir lost, they’d be too dead to worry about the consequences. But what about Carmen and the crew? A permanent gateway established if they were defeated.

They’d be on the ship when the invasion happened. In space. If they lost, would the gateway anchor to the vessel? Would enemies have permanent access to their starship? And if the ship was destroyed during the fighting, what then? A gateway floating in empty space?

He didn’t know. The System never explained the details until it was too late. Still, it was a tiny improvement over the first, having a countdown and time to prepare.

“Yes,” he said finally. “Terrible timing.”

“Thoughts?”

“Nothing we can do right now. Vacation plans proceed. We’ll handle funeral arrangements later.”

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“Understood. Three more minutes and we’ll be ready.”

“Confirmed.”

He cut the call and refocused on the mission.

The private docking berths curved ahead, rows of sealed entrances leading to individual umbilical connections. Each one serviced a different ship, most with a guard standing post. Theater more than security, given their bored appearances.

A guard stood at the entrance marked with Santiago Systems branding. The man was leaning against the wall with the posture of someone who’d been standing in the same spot for hours.

He straightened as Alexander approached, angled for the doorway.

“Sorry sir, this is a private dock. Santiago Systems only.”

Alexander didn’t slow. “Do you know who I am?”

The guard’s expression flickered with uncertainty. “I... no, sir, I don’t.”

“Your only job is to stand there and make people like me look as important as I am.” Alexander pressed his hand against the biometric scanner beside the entrance. “The real security is right here.”

Technopathy flowed through the scanner. The machine happily accepted his credentials with a beep.

The panel flashed green. Access granted.

The guard stared at it, confusion plain on his face. His hand drifting toward the weapon at his belt had halted.

“Apologies, sir. I didn’t realize you were cleared for...”

Alexander stepped past him through the door. “No harm done.”

The message from Talia arrived as the door sealed behind him.

We’ve all arrived.

Grimnir had reached the bar. Everyone was in position.

He let go.

Every security system he’d been holding across the station dropped from his awareness at once. All of it released in a single moment.

The strain vanished. His mind felt suddenly light, the constant pressure lifting like a weight removed from his shoulders.

He’d been holding more than he’d realized. Months ago, he couldn’t have held that many systems at once. The reach was growing, too. How far would it extend in another year? An entire city? More? Commanding them was also getting easier. Almost instinctive. As if transmitting his intent was becoming second nature.

Alexander walked down the umbilical corridor. The ship waited at the far end, sealed against the station with reinforced docking clamps. SSS Gabriel’s Glory, according to the plaque affixed to the hull next to the airlock entrance.

Not for much longer. He ripped it free with Metallokinesis and crumpled it into a ball, then put it in his pocket.

The airlock cycled. He stepped through onto the ship, grav plating engaging beneath his feet even in the vessel’s low-power state.

The interior was clean and expensive. Santiago hadn’t cut corners on his personal yacht. The corridors were wide enough for cargo hauling, the lighting bright and even as it flickered on in his presence. Everything spoke of function and quality.

He made his way to the bridge.

The command deck spread before him when he arrived. Captain’s chair at the center, helm station forward, navigation and communications flanking it. Engineering monitors lined one wall. Tactical displays covered another. Everything powered down, waiting.

The back wall, behind where the captain sat, had a second pair of lush leather seats. Probably Gabriel’s position, where he could lord it over those really running his ship.

Alexander moved to the main systems console and placed his hand against the interface.

This was it. He’d been looking forward to this ever since they’d made the decision to borrow a ship. That it was an opportunity to spit in Gabriel Santiago’s eye again just made the moment that much sweeter.

His first starship.

He focused his Will and began.

All of his senses spread through the ship like roots growing through soil. His consciousness extended into every system, every corridor, every sealed bulkhead. Hull plating. Engine cores. Life support. Weapons. Everything. The vessel was enormous.

He’d learned since that first fumbling attempt with Droney. Knew how to channel all four powers simultaneously now, thanks to the Cultivator’s Core complementing and synergizing them. Technopathy mapped the ship’s systems. Metallokinesis traced the structural framework. Electrokinesis followed the power conduits. Animachina wove through everything, binding them together.

Simultaneously, a thread of Technopathy dove deeper, finding the transponder system. Code rewrote itself as he worked. SSS Gabriel’s Glory. Delete. GSS Sleipnir. Insert. The new data matched the falsified but very real information he’d submitted to the Galactic Registry System earlier.

Then he exhaled slowly.

“Ensoulment.”

The ship’s presence emerged slowly, like something waking from a long sleep. Not quite sapient yet. Not truly aware. But present. Responsive. Connected to him in a way that went beyond mere technological interface.

He could feel the vessel now. Every system, every corridor, every sealed door, every cable. The ship existed as an extension of his Will, bound to him through the fragment of soul he’d gifted it.

The transponder finished updating. New identity locked in place.

Alexander drew a slow breath and straightened, releasing his grip on the console. Exhaustion settled through him, bone deep, but controlled. His muscles ached from tension. His mind felt stretched thin from maintaining such intense focus across the whole massive vessel right after pushing himself to the limits on the station.

But he was still standing. Still functional.

Months ago, attempting something this large probably would have left him unconscious on the floor. He would have pushed too hard, burned himself out trying to encompass even half of what he’d just accomplished.

Now he just needed a moment to recover.

He checked the time through his interface, forcing his tired mind to focus. Thirteen minutes since he’d left the guards unconscious in the maintenance room.

Still no alarm. But it would come. Any moment now, someone would find them.

He opened a comms channel to Augustus. With a thought, Droney activated his camera, transmitting the live-feed directly to him.

“Ready when you are.”

The portal shimmered into existence in the center of the bridge a minute later. Augustus stepped through first, scanning the space quickly. Talia followed. Then Carmen and her crew, moving in pairs with the practiced coordination of people who’d worked together before. The list she’d provided had mostly been people who had lost their positions alongside her. The team had seen no reason to decline her first picks.

Annie came last. Thick black glasses obscured half her face. A mobility cane tapped against the deck plating with each step. Felix trotted beside her in golden retriever form, the very picture of a well-trained support dog.

She made it three steps onto the bridge before pushing the glasses up onto her forehead.

“Okay, I’m done. That was way harder than I thought it would be. Don’t ever make me do something like that again.”

The team stared at her. Alexander sighed. “It was your idea.”

Annie smiled sheepishly. “Ohhh, yeah. It was.”

The moment of levity broke some of the tension. A few of the crew smiled. Then Carmen took command.

“Pilot, take your station. Comms, I need you on that console. XO, run the startup checklist. Everyone else, sweep and secure the ship and prepare for departure.”

They scattered to their assigned positions with the efficiency of professionals who knew their jobs.

Alexander moved aside as the pilot slid into the helm station. The woman’s hands moved across the controls, skillfully bringing systems online.

“Reactor warming,” someone called from engineering monitors.

“Navigation plotting departure vector,” another voice added.

Carmen stood near the captain’s chair, not sitting, observing everything. “Comms, file our flight plan. Prime Orbital to Astra Omnia, then on to The Nexus.”

“Filing now, Captain.” The communications officer’s fingers danced across his console. “GSS Sleipnir requesting departure clearance. Flight plan transmitted.”

Alexander and the rest of Grimnir stepped back, staying out of the way, and allowing the crew to do their jobs.

His awareness reached back into the station. Not controlling anything this time. Just sensing. Searching.

He found the room through the cameras. Found a crowd of people gathered outside the broken door. Someone was trying to force it open. Others were talking urgently, gesturing.

The missing guards or the locked door had been discovered somehow.

Alexander’s Technopathy reached for every comms device in that crowd. One by one, he shut them down. Disabled transmitters. Severed connections. It would buy time, seconds, maybe minutes before someone could raise the alarm.

He moved closer to Carmen.

“We’re running out of time,” he said quietly. “Need to undock now.”

Carmen’s gaze snapped to him. She held his eyes for a moment, reading something there. Then she nodded once and strode to the communications station.

She leaned over the officer’s shoulder and pressed the transmit button herself.

Her voice was cold and professional, sharp enough to cut.

“This is GSS Sleipnir. We’ve resubmitted our flight plan. A flight plan that was submitted for confirmation days ago, and which I’ve just now found out is still causing delays. Our timeline is highly sensitive, and we are transporting corporate VIPs. Release our clamps immediately or I’m filing a formal complaint about delays that will cost us our delivery window and breach our contract obligations.”

Silence on the other end. Then stammering.

“Uh, one moment please, we’re just...”

“Now.”

Silence again.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry. Clearance approved. Docking clamps releasing.”

Carmen straightened. “Pilot, take us out.”

The ship shuddered. Metal groaned as the clamps disengaged. Thrusters fired, a low vibration running through the deck.

They pulled away from the berth.

Seconds later, Alexander sensed alarms activating across the station. Alert lights flashed red through some viewports. The station-wide lockdown engaged.

Too late.

They were already clear.