The sky above Aetherion Prime was an endless sheet of pulsing neon veins, weaving between floating ad-boards and glimmering spires. Holo-trams whispered through the air in quiet synchrony, their shadows dancing on mirrored skyscrapers. From the observation dome of the Parallax Tech Institute, Shane Warne stood at the precipice of triumph.
The lab hummed with restrained energy - sleek, sterile, brilliant. White panels glowed from every surface. Monitors scrolled diagnostics in pale cyan, casting ghost-light across his face. The core reactor, a basketball-sized sphere of oscillating energy, floated inside its containment pod. It pulsed like a synthetic heart.
Shane's hands trembled slightly. He called it excitement.
"This is it", he whispered, adjusting the neural link at the back of his neck. "Years of theory. Months of isolation. One perfect test."
He paced, nerves dancing along his spine. His dark hair, sweat-dampened at the temples, framed sharp eyes filled with both resolve and youthful arrogance. On the far console, Argo-7, his personal drone, hovered silently.
"You really want to do this live, huh?" Argo's tone was dry, synthetic, and typically sardonic. "You do remember what happened to the last guy who tried a fusion-based combat suit."
"He didn't have this design," Shane muttered. "No neural-sync. No adaptive failsafe. No fallback capacitor."
"He also had a spine. Something you're risking frying."
Shane ignored the voice, stepping into the exosuit frame, sleek, matte-black plating with segmented limbs and a glowing spinal coil. It unfolded like a waking beast. The plating slid over his limbs, magnetic locks clamping shut, a whisper of mechanized breath exhaled as the HUD flickered to life over his left eye.
PROTOTYPE: NOVA MK-I
STATUS: INITIATING FUSION CORE STABILIZATION
Outside, the sky darkened, not by nightfall, but by gathering storm drones shifting course over the city.
Dr. Elias Rhane's voice crackled over the comms, distant but urgent. "Shane, don't do this. I just saw the surge spike—your core's oscillating out of phase."
"I can regulate it. I know this tech better than anyone. I was born for this."
"Ambition doesn't make you invincible, Shane. It makes you blind."
But Shane had stopped listening. He raised one cybernetic arm, fingers flaring with raw energy, and grinned.
For a moment, the world held its breath.
Then the core pulsed violently.
Warnings screamed across his HUD - red flashes of system collapse, containment breach, neural feedback loop.
ERROR: CORE DECOMPENSATION.
CRITICAL—DISENGAGE IMMEDIATELY.
…DISENGAGE FAILURE.
His chest felt like it imploded.
A searing white light swallowed the dome.
Time fractured.
Then, silence.
---
He awoke to fire.
Shattered metal twisted above him like the ribs of a broken beast. Alarms still wailed, distant and weak. Blood - his blood, spattered cracked tiles beneath him. He couldn't feel his legs. Couldn't feel anything below his chest.
Shane blinked slowly, pain sluggishly chasing sensation.
A scorched figure appeared beside him. Dr. Elias Rhane, gray hair matted with soot, lab coat torn, eyes wide with anguish.
"You idiot," the older man choked, kneeling. "You absolute fool."
Shane tried to speak, but only blood came out.
"Don't move," Elias said, voice trembling. "I'll keep you alive. But you need to trust me now more than ever."
The light faded from Shane's eyes as darkness pulled him under.
His last thought wasn't fear.
It was guilt.
---
When Shane opened his eyes again, the world was quieter.
Colder.
He lay on a surgical cradle, surrounded by machines he didn't recognize - monitors, fluid tanks, skeletal robotic arms suspended like hungry spiders.
The walls were metallic, humming. The air carried the antiseptic chill of secrecy. Not the Institute.
Somewhere else.
He tried to sit up. Pain answered.
Looking down, he froze.
His right arm ended in a mechanical limb - sleek, black metal traced with soft-blue circuits. Part of his chest, too. Even his left eye reflected HUD symbols he hadn't yet willed into existence.
He wasn't just injured.
He was remade.
"Don't move too fast," said Dr. Rhane, stepping in. "The neural-graft needs time to adapt."
"What… did you do to me?"
"I saved you."
Shane stared at the man he once called mentor. "You turned me into a machine."
"No," Elias said. "I gave you a second chance."
Silence grew between them.
Outside the window, the city blinked on as if nothing had changed. But Shane had. His soul, his spark, had fractured.
And from the ashes of his own failure, something else had begun to rise.
---