The next forty-eight hours were a unique form of torture.
I had the brain of a genius, a supercomputer in my soul, and a secure fortress of my own making, yet I was reduced to pacing the concrete floor like an expectant father, checking my untraceable wallet every ten minutes. The logical part of me, heavily influenced by Raphael, knew the process would take time. The Head of Security at Kord Enterprises would need to verify the threat, confirm the patch, and then, most delicately, approve a five-figure off-the-books payment in a cryptocurrency he probably had to Google.
But the human part of me, the part that was flat broke and had just bet everything on the hubris of a stranger, was a nervous wreck.
"They're not going to pay," I muttered on the second day, slumping against a workbench. "They'll just take the free patch, beef up their security, and laugh at the anonymous idiot who did their job for them."
"I'll feel better when that 87.4% is in my wallet," I grumbled.
I tried to distract myself by designing upgrades for the workshop, but my focus was shot. I was in the middle of sketching out a custom 3D printer when a crisp, pleasant chime echoed from the console speaker.
My head snapped up. On the main monitor, a single notification glowed.
[Incoming Transaction: +251.25 XMR]
[Quest Objective Updated: Achieve Financial Unfuckability (Current Net Worth: $50,058.12 USD)]
I stared, my breath caught in my chest. The numbers were real. The Monero was in my wallet. They had paid. The Digital Ghost had drawn first blood, and it was a gusher.
A wild, unrestrained whoop of laughter erupted from my chest, my new [Shout] skill giving it a booming, resonant quality that shook the dust from the rafters. "YES! HAHA! They paid! Raphael, they actually paid!"
The nervous energy vanished, replaced by a surge of pure, unadulterated ambition. "Okay. Next stage. We need tools for surveillance, so the recon drones are a go. But my physical stats are still garbage. How do I grind them up without a sparring partner?"
"A tireless reality? What are you talking about?"
My jaw dropped. "You learned how to create a Mirror Dimension? Just like that?"
"My MP isn't enough, I get that," I said, my mind immediately shifting into practical terms. "But what are we talking about, exactly? How much MP is required?"
I whistled, long and low. The sheer scale of that was staggering. "Okay. So... a battery. A massive, rechargeable battery. The Sorcerers of Kamar-Taj draw power from other dimensions, but you said that's like a beacon. We need a self-contained, internal power source."
I started pacing, Thorne's genius and my own comic-book knowledge swirling into a storm of possibilities. "There are so many power types in this universe. There has to be something we can use. What about someone like Electro? We could have him soak up the entire city grid and—" I stopped, sighing in frustration. "Right. No Spider-Man yet. I haven't heard a whisper about him, so the timeline's not there. Electro probably isn't even a thing yet."
A new query flashed across the Synapse monitor, my parameters—'energy manipulation', 'absorption', 'mutant'—guiding the search. A few seconds later, a single file was isolated, a profile appearing on the screen.
Subject: Bishop, Lucas.
Status: Mutant. Latent powers, currently unmanifested.
Location: Brooklyn, NY.
Below the name was a description of his potential abilities.
Power: Energy Absorption & Redirection.
Description: Subject possesses the ability to absorb most forms of energy (kinetic, electrical, thermal, radiant, and potentially psionic). This energy can be stored within his cells and re-projected, often as concussive blasts of pure force. He is, in essence, a living battery with a near-limitless storage capacity.
My eyes widened. It was perfect. Better than Electro. Broader.
A predatory grin spread across my face. The path forward was crystal clear. The next piece of the puzzle, the next power for my collection, had a name.
"Alright, Raphael," I said, my new, deep voice resonating with purpose. "Forget the training drones for now. Let's build that Wraith. Our little recon drone has a new priority target."
The hunt for Lucas Bishop was on.