Chapter 141

  Alexander stood in front of his wardrobe, considering his options.

  Augustus’s father had been sending him a new suit each month since his new shop on Astra Omnia opened. And he still didn’t know the man’s name.

  Augustus claimed it was normal family behavior. Alexander suspected the old man was waging a quiet campaign to prove that his son’s insistence on three-piece European suits being the pinnacle of fashion was, in fact, limited thinking. From what he’d heard last, the man had employed two young technopaths, twins, and begun working on superhero costumes.

  Alexander wasn’t complaining. His wardrobe had never had so much style, and he was glad Augustus had stocked the Storage Closet with everything they might need before leaving Earth. Not that his own collection took up much space.

  Annie’s on the other hand…

  Behind him in the workshop, the ship’s redesign floated in holographic blue. Most of it was external, aimed at disguising the ship just enough to pass a distant visual inspection. Minor external reshaping to change the ship’s profile, with slightly repositioned weapon mounts. A new paint scheme. Ablative armor replacement for the panels that had been left behind.

  Inside, renovation designs to reconfigure rooms for Grimnir’s needs instead of those of a narcissistic trillionaire were ready.

  The Station Master’s people would start tomorrow morning. The Nexus moved fast when someone that powerful wanted something done.

  Alexander frowned at the suits, then pulled up his status information instead.

  —

  [STATUS]

  Alexander Rooke

  | Alias: Machine God

  | Guild: Grimnir (Leader)

  | Alliances: The Royals

  | Designation: Supervillain

  | Bounty: 1,280,000 → 1,455,000 credits

  | Evaluation: Tier 2 (12% → 17%) — Class A

  ASCENSION POTENTIAL INDEX (API)

  Physical Attributes

  | Strength — 76% → 77%

  | Endurance ? 101 → 103

  | Constitution ? 101 → 115

  | Dexterity — 91% → 93%

  | Agility — 81% → 83%

  Cognitive Attributes

  | Intelligence ? 137 → 145

  | Processing Speed ? 128 → 134

  | Perception ? 129 → 136

  | Focus ? 118 → 122

  | Willpower (Ambition) ? 161 → 166 (+5)

  Power Manifestation

  Machine God (Technopathy) | Class S, Tier 1

  | Efficiency — 100%

  | Control — 100%

  | Output — 71% → 73%

  | Adaptation — 94% → 95%

  Electrokinesis | Class C → B, Tier 1

  | Efficiency — 78% → 84%

  | Control — 74% → 77%

  | Output — 77% → 79%

  | Adaptation — 72%

  Metallokinesis | Class B, Tier 1

  | Efficiency — 70% → 74%

  | Control — 61% → 67%

  | Output — 48% → 51%

  | Adaptation — 49% → 54%

  Animachina | Class S, Tier 2

  | Mastery ? 75% → 76%

  Cultivator’s Core | Class B, Tier 1

  | Refinement ? 52% → 55%

  Techniques

  | Blackout

  | Ensoulment

  | Soul Circuit

  Skills

  | Hyperawareness

  Achievements

  | Origin 0 Soul

  | Continue the Dream II

  —

  His gains from the Beastworld had not amounted to much, though he wasn’t complaining. The large increase in Constitution felt like a direct result of using the arm in combat. Perhaps the nanites in his body contributed, though he doubted it.

  He still wasn’t certain about how to justify the small increases to the rest of his physical attributes, though he was beginning to suspect that employing his powers to achieve similar effects was the culprit. How that resulted in growing physically stronger made little in the way of rational sense, but he’d learned to set some of that aside since waking up in an alternate universe to find people flying with their minds.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  He pulled up the new Guild Interface next.

  —

  [GUILD INTERFACE]

  Guild Name: Grimnir

  Guild Leader: Alexander Rooke

  Rank: 0 (Beginner)

  Funds: 172,905,324 credits

  Members: 5

  Associates: 12

  [GUILD QUESTS]

  [GUILD DIPLOMACY]

  [GUILD TERRITORY] (Locked)

  [GUILD SKILLS] (Locked)

  [GUILD RESOURCES]

  —

  The new Guild Interface was somehow both shocking and utterly boring. When he’d first opened it, both the diplomacy and quest submenus had a blinking ‘New!’ flashing next to them, while the territory and skills options remained locked behind yet another unexplained mechanism.

  But it was the funds that had shocked Alexander. Grimnir had somehow gained over 170 million credits. Investigating the resources menu had given him the answer in a detailed list format: bounty rewards.

  Ever since the System had turned bounties on, just prior to their attack against Santiago System’s hidden facility, they’d been collecting rewards for each enemy they eliminated.

  Killed.

  Starting with Dr. Miller at a surprising 1.8 million credits.

  He remained the highest single bounty, too, though only because the cultivator’s 3 million bounty had been split four-ways. The cultist leader had been the second highest at just over 1.5 million, which was another surprise. She had been a much more dangerous opponent than Miller, but then the bounty rankings weren’t purely a measure of power. The notice about the bounty system had stated something about accomplishments, too.

  Each orangutan had been valued at over 1 million.

  The rest of the funds they’d accrued were simply based on numbers. Hundreds of cultists. Hundreds of beasts, though many of those rewards had been split with the other guilds. Each of them valued at anywhere between a hundred thousand and just under a million.

  By default, the guild system taxed each member 100% of their bounty earnings. He could configure it under the resources tab, but hadn’t bothered for now. They’d made do with no bounty rewards so far. It could wait until another day.

  Alexander ran his fingers through his damp hair. This was procrastination. He knew it was procrastination. He’d been standing in his quarters for fifteen minutes analyzing suits and his status sheet when he should have left already.

  Making decisions about how to disguise a starship was easier than working out what to wear on a sort-of-first date.

  He reviewed his choices again and reached for the very dark grey three-piece. Charcoal, almost black but not quite. One of the earlier deliveries, before the old man had apparently decided to get creative with colors. There was nothing wrong with black. Or gray. Even a dark navy. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t come up with any circumstances where he’d need a burgundy or cream-colored suit.

  Alexander laid the suit and a simple white button-down on his bed and started getting dressed. The shirt went on first, then the vest, then the trousers. He reached for the tie, held it for a moment, then set it back down. Dressy but casual. That worked better anyway.

  Alexander picked up the jacket, shrugged it on, and left it unbuttoned.

  He checked the result in the mirror. The look was polished enough to show effort, but casual enough to feel approachable.

  Probably.

  Alexander unbuttoned the top two buttons of the shirt, checked the result again, and nodded once.

  From his nightstand, he picked up his wolf ring. The dark metal caught the light, the engraved design of a wolf howling to the sky still sharp after months of wear. Its GPS function was useless out here beyond Earth’s network, but he’d grown attached to it anyway. A reminder of the team. Of the bond they’d formed that day.

  He slipped it onto his right hand and looked at it for a moment. Then removed and slipped it onto his left. It was far less likely he’d lose the cybernetic arm.

  Good enough.

  ***

  The elevator rose smooth and silent except for the faint music filtering through hidden speakers.

  Alexander had discovered that elevator music was apparently a universal curse inflicted on all species. Even here, tens of thousands of light-years from Earth, someone had decided that people needed bland instrumental arrangements to fill the silence during vertical travel.

  The doors opened.

  Alexander stepped into a long, narrow hallway. Carpeted floor. Soft lighting dimmed to create atmosphere. One wall was entirely glass, showing the view of the station arm stretching into the distance far below. They were very high up.

  Halfway down the hall, a single door waited.

  Julia stood at the window, looking out at the view. Long dark hair fell in loose curls past her shoulders, and she’d done something subtle with makeup that brought out her eyes. A beautiful dark blue dress flowed with her movement as she turned toward him, delicate snowflakes stitched along the hem, barely visible unless you looked for them.

  Their eyes met. Her warm blue finding his.

  They both froze for a moment.

  Then she smiled softly. “Alexander.”

  He slipped his left hand into his pocket and resumed walking, returning the smile. “Jules.”

  When he reached her, Alexander took her hand and raised it to his lips. The gesture had started as a joke years ago, a way to tease and get a laugh out of her. It had never quite stopped, mostly because it always drew the same response.

  Color rose to her cheeks immediately.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you. You clean up well, too.” Her smile turned playful. “Though the scruff is new. Since our last date, I mean.”

  Alexander’s mouth twitched slightly. He turned her hand over gently, still holding it, and the bracelet on her wrist caught his attention.

  His mother’s bracelet. A family heirloom they’d given her for her fifteenth birthday. Julia rarely wore jewelry, but she’d loved the simple piece from the moment she saw it.

  “You kept it.”

  She looked down at the bracelet, then back up at him. “Of course I did. It’s important.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He released her hand slowly.

  They stood there for a few moments, the weight of history and things unsaid settling between them.

  Alexander broke the silence.

  “Tell me about this place. I was surprised when you mentioned you’d already made arrangements.” He grinned. “Also secretly relieved. I had no idea where to take you.”

  Julia’s expression softened. “I asked Raelene. She knows The Nexus better than any of us. Apparently this is where the wealthy and elite come when they want an authentic experience with actual privacy.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And you were able to get a reservation?”

  “It was easy.” She smiled. “Turns out that being one of the heroes who saved the station has its perks.”

  Alexander laughed. Then he offered his arm. “Shall we then?”

  She took it without hesitation. “Yes.”

  The door opened automatically into a spacious greeting room. High ceiling, gentle lighting that seemed to glow from within the real wooden panels lining the walls. Thick carpet beneath their feet. A translation device chimed softly as they entered, and the alien host stepped forward, tall and graceful with skin that shimmered faintly blue.

  “Welcome, Julia Delvane and Alexander Rooke. Right this way, please.”

  They followed the host down a hallway lined with more wood paneling, past closed doors marking private booths. Everything felt warm here. Intimate. A stark contrast to the cold metal of the station beyond these walls.

  The host stopped at the end of the hall and opened a final door.

  Their booth was more than Alexander had expected. The main room was impressive enough, with a table and chairs, but through an archway at the back, a private balcony waited. Floor-to-ceiling windows curved outward, giving an unobstructed view. Two reclining seats faced the glass, angled toward each other with small tables between them.

  “The balcony privacy screen can be adjusted for opacity or entertainment,” the host explained, a second device within the booth handling the translation seamlessly.

  Alexander glanced at Julia. She was already looking toward the balcony.

  “We’ll take the balcony,” he said.

  The host bowed slightly and withdrew.

  They settled into the reclining seats. The furniture adjusted to them automatically, supporting without constraining. Through the glass, the view opened endlessly. The station arm curved away into the distance, dotted with lights. Ships moved in slow patterns. Beyond it all, stars filled the black.

  Another alien appeared, this one carrying a digital menu display.

  “Good evening. I will be your server tonight. Our chefs are trained extensively in human cuisine, and all ingredients are naturally imported from Earth or compatible agricultural worlds. The chef’s recommendation this evening is the duck breast with cherry reduction and roasted vegetables, paired with a wine from the Bordeaux region of Earth.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Julia said. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Alexander added.

  The server bowed and departed.

  Minutes later, two glasses appeared on the small tables. They lifted them, sipped, and leaned back into the comfortable seats. The view stretched out before them.

  Neither spoke yet. The silence was easy, full of the moment rather than empty of words.

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  Continue the Dream.