Chapter 91 - Chapter 91: Satellite in Position

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Chapter 91: Satellite in Position

The next day, George began placing the materials he'd collected from the Suicide Squad World—what he now referred to as the Gotham Axis—into various laboratories across the island. He saved the most important components for last: the tablet and the military satellite.

He cleared out an unused room beneath the castle and got to work assembling a full-scale computer hub. With his enhanced mind and the help of multiple Shadow Clones—each acting like a trained engineer or systems tech—the entire operation moved incredibly fast. They worked in complete sync, laying cable, linking servers, and tuning hardware until the whole place hummed with potential.

Once everything was in place, George powered up the tablet. The familiar voice greeted him instantly.

"Master, Monday is at your service."

George gave a slight nod. The clarity in that synthetic tone was oddly comforting now. "Good. Monday, connect to the new terminal and start a full self-diagnostic."

"Yes, Master."

As soon as the connection was initiated, cascading lines of green code began to flow across the tablet screen and the large monitors mounted throughout the computer room. George watched it all carefully—not just out of habit, but from genuine interest.

He wasn't yet capable of building an AI from scratch. That level of computing and neural architecture was still beyond even him. But thanks to the raw technical knowledge he'd absorbed from the Gotham Axis and the time he'd spent dissecting it with his clones, he understood what he was looking at.

The scan completed with a soft chime. Three protocol vulnerabilities flashed red on the leftmost monitor. To most people, they'd look like minor inefficiencies—insignificant enough to ignore.

But George knew better.

They were backdoors.

He didn't need to guess who left them—Bruce, of course. The Bat always had contingencies. These holes would've allowed him to monitor George's position, pull records, maybe even hijack command lines if given time.

George respected the move. He'd have done the same in Bruce's shoes. But respect didn't mean trust.

He patched them without hesitation.

If there was one lesson he'd learned repeatedly across every world he'd walked, it was that compromised AI was never just an inconvenience—it was a liability. A threat. And he wasn't about to leave that door open.

With the diagnostic complete and the backdoors sealed, George turned his attention to the satellite.

He unfolded the chassis carefully, checking every joint, arm, and panel. Monday's connection flickered in as soon as the ports were active.

This wasn't just any communications satellite.

It was a high-end AEHF model—an Advanced Extremely High Frequency relay built to survive nuclear fallout and provide uninterrupted, encrypted communication for military and executive branches. It used frequency hopping, phased-array antennas, and an ultra-hardened anti-jamming architecture. The uplink came in at 44 GHz, the downlink at 20 GHz.

It was designed to stay online while the rest of the world burned.

Normally, this unit would be part of a six-satellite chain, linked together in perfect formation, offering 24/7 global monitoring and battlefield coordination. But even on its own, the satellite was impressive—more than enough for what George had in mind. And now, with full blueprints in hand, if he ever needed more?

He knew exactly where to get them.

Still, launching this thing wasn't going to be simple. Not if he wanted to keep it quiet.

He couldn't just fire it into space and hope no one noticed. There were telescopes, sky-watching software, and orbital registries. One wrong launch and a dozen agencies would be on alert within hours.

So he adapted.

Over the next day, George etched invisibility arrays directly onto the satellite's casing using high-level alchemy. The work was intricate—he had to be careful not to interfere with the electronics, the sensors, or the thermal regulation systems.

He also affixed a discreet receiver on one of the tallest castle towers to allow a secure uplink once the satellite was in position.

By evening, the hardware was complete.

He embedded a stripped-down version of Monday into a sleek smart watch, slipped an earpiece into his left ear, and tucked the entire activated satellite into his expanded magical storage.

Next, he stepped into a lightweight space suit designed for high-orbit exposure and cast a minor Illusion Charm over himself to blur any trace.

"Monday, report altitude continuously."

"Yes, Master."

He walked up to the tallest point on the castle roof. The stars were sharp in the winter sky, distant and still.

Then, with a breath, George vanished.

He reappeared 100 meters above the roof. Then again, another 100. Then again.

His figure flickered like a stitched ghost across the sky, each teleportation silent and instant. The jumps were fast—over 50 frames per second—and from the ground, no human eye could have tracked him. He wasn't flying. He was blinking.

Each movement pushed him upward another hundred meters.

He was traveling more than 5,000 meters per second—over fifteen times the speed of sound. But because he wasn't moving through air, there was no drag, no wind, no noise. No sonic boom. Just silence.

Pure silence.

"Master, altitude: 15,000 meters," Monday reported.

That was far enough.

Going any higher would take too long by blinking alone. And if he summoned a portal down low, the golden light would be obvious—visible to satellites and sensitive telescopes.

But here? No one was watching.

He raised a hand and drew a precise circle in the air.

A golden portal opened into space.

The instant he stepped through, he felt the shift.

The air disappeared. Gravity loosened its grip.

He was in orbit.

He pulled the satellite from his storage. The solar panels unfolded in silence. It hovered beside him, a sleek metal shape framed against the stars.

Monday, connect to the satellite. Report altitude."

"Current altitude: 35,000 kilometers."

"Perfect," George said, floating back. "Can you manage stabilization from here?"

"Yes, Master. Once you return to the surface, I will begin the positioning sequence."

"Do it."

The satellite's thruster flared, a soft pulse of blue fire. It drifted forward into the dark.

George just watched it for a while.

There were no sounds.

There was no up or down. Just the distant gleam of stars. And below, the curve of Earth.

A glowing blue marble suspended in infinite black.

It looked so small. So impossibly fragile.

And yet, it held so much.

He thought of the cities glowing under the clouds. Of the people he knew. The kids are laughing in the courtyard. Ryan. Julia. The hundreds who worked to keep Hogwarts Island running. All of it. All of them.

That was home.

He exhaled slowly, his breath fogging the inside of the visor for a second.

He wasn't a god. Not yet. Not here.

Out here, he was a man in a suit floating next to a box of wires and steel.

And beyond this little pocket of borrowed air? The rest of the universe. The Kree. The Shi'ar. The Brood. The Celestials. Beings so old and vast they could snuff out a planet like a candle.

Earth wasn't ready for what was coming, not even close, but George would be. He clenched his gloved fist slowly and turned back toward the planet. He was done here, for now. It was time to go back. There was still work to do.

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