[Received information packet (Common): Strange Science (Bleach). (Cost to unlock information packet: 500 OP)]
A complete academic course opening access to a new scientific paradigm where soul, spirit, and their manifestations are treated not as mystical phenomena but as measurable, controllable, and reproducible physical processes. You receive fundamental knowledge on which the Shinigami Research and Development Institute is based, allowing you to apply the scientific method to studying and using spiritual energy.
This packet introduces you to three basic pillars on which all spiritual physics rests:
Reishi (Spiritual Particles): These are the quanta or atoms of the spiritual world. Fundamental, elementary particles that compose everything immaterial, including souls, spiritual bodies, Kido barriers, and the Soul Society world itself. You learn to perceive, measure, and manipulate these particles as a new type of matter.
Reiryoku (Spiritual Power): This is the static energy potential of a soul. An analog to battery capacity or mana in other systems. This is the total amount of energy a soul can contain. You receive knowledge on how to measure, accumulate, and increase this potential.
Reiatsu (Spiritual Pressure): This is the kinetic manifestation of Reiryoku, that is, energy released at a given moment. An analog to output power or amperage. Reiatsu exerts physical pressure on the surrounding world and is the measure of real power in battle. You learn how to control and modulate your Reiatsu to achieve various effects.
Reishi Engineering: Physics of Spirit
An engineering discipline focused on manipulating spiritual particles (Reishi) and transforming spiritual energy (Reiryoku). You receive the theoretical foundation for:
Energetics: Studying principles of collecting and concentrating free Reishi from the atmosphere, as well as creating devices that convert Reiryoku into other types of energy (electrical, kinetic, thermal) and back.
Materials Science: Mastering methods of compressing, stabilizing, and structuring Reishi to create solid spiritual materials. You learn how to form objects from them with predetermined properties, ranging from strength to immateriality for physical objects.
Sensorics: Mastering principles of detecting and analyzing Reiatsu. This includes developing sensors capable of tracking, identifying, and classifying spiritual entities by their unique energy signatures.
Ontological Surgery: Biology of Soul
A high-level bio-spiritual discipline that views the soul as a complex information-energy structure amenable to analysis and modification. Over time you will master:
Analysis: Theoretical foundations of soul sequencing. You will learn to recognize its structural components (Chain of Fate, personality core, and so on), find damage, innate talents, or artificial modifications.
Modification: Principles of editing spiritual structure. This includes knowledge of how to strengthen or weaken certain aspects of the soul, repair damage, or even add new functions.
Synthesis: Theoretical foundation for creating simple artificial souls (Mod-souls). You will understand how from raw spiritual energy and a predetermined information matrix you can assemble a primitive personality with one highly specialized ability.
I leaned back against the couch, feeling a chill run down my spine. Every time this system managed to amaze me to my core. Advanced technologies were one thing. Another thing entirely was a whole layer of new, fundamental science that transformed mysticism into an engineering discipline. From the description it was still difficult to imagine specific devices, but the potential was simply colossal. And immediately I remembered with annoyance that in my past life my eyes had never gotten around to studying the Bleach universe. How many ready-made ideas and concepts I had missed!
But immediately the poisonous regret was replaced by cold, calculating excitement. In a way, this was even better. I was not bound by canon. My mind was free from the framework of "this is possible, this is not." A crazy thought flashed in my head. In Bleach there were some kind of sentient spiritual weapons, right? Zanpakuto, I think. I had no idea how they worked, what they consisted of, what their limitations were. And this very ignorance was my main advantage. If I knew for certain that creating a living soul for a weapon from Reishi was impossible, and forging an ideal vessel for it using my Entity Smith skill was heresy, I would not even have undertaken this task. But now, now I did not know whether this was possible or not. Which meant I was obliged to try. Synthesis of material and spiritual engineering. Wow, what horizons were opening!
Everything inside boiled with impatience. Experiments were needed. A huge, titanic amount of experiments! Ideally, lock myself in the world's most advanced laboratory for a couple months and emerge from there as a god of new science. But alas, peace was only a dream for me. The longer I dragged this out, the tighter the ring would squeeze around me. Enough hiding. Time to go home. To meet my fears, or more precisely, their beautiful representatives, face to face.
I stood up, feeling an unprecedented surge of strength. I had Iron Blood flowing in my veins. I had a super suit hidden in inventory. I had stimulators. And most importantly, I had confidence. Impenetrable, cold confidence in my newly acquired powers.
Having called a taxi to the checkpoint, I walked through the deserted shipyard, running through the upcoming conversation in my head. What would I offer S.H.I.E.L.D., and what would I keep to myself? Proteus was the base, my entry ticket, not even up for discussion. But that was not enough. To raise my value to the heavens, I would have to show something more. But NZT, no. The pills were my personal, absolute trump card. A card that could be played only once, and only when absolutely everything was at stake.
Returning to my apartment, I immediately sensed changes. The micro-changes I had noticed last time had become even more numerous. Things shifted by a millimeter, the barely perceptible electrical smell from hidden electronics, the sensation of foreign presence. I involuntarily grinned. This was no longer a home but a high-tech terrarium where I was observed 24/7. I would not be surprised if somewhere in the walls were sensors tracking my biological indicators in real time. Pulse, breathing, hormonal background. Quite their style.
Fortunately, I had prepared. Back in the taxi, I had discreetly swallowed an NZT pill. My mind began to clear, acquiring razor sharpness. They could monitor my body, but my main asset, my intellect, was now under reliable protection. And with such doping I was ready for any game they wanted to impose on me.
Before I could touch my old smartphone, which incidentally was not even covered with dust, an obvious sign that amateurs had worked here who had not even bothered to simulate abandonment, my attention was drawn to noise from the street. Squeal of brakes, doomed hiss of air, and quiet cursing. A small Ford stopped at my house, a typical woman's car. Well, stopped was not quite accurate. Rather, it limped on a punctured front tire. The driver apparently decided enough was enough.
And this driver, of course, turned out to be none other than the painfully familiar blonde, Yelena Belova. At the sight of her pretty face and figure carved as if by an ancient sculptor, my brain involuntarily threw up images from a recent dream. I physically felt how blood, despite the iron control that NZT provided, began to rush to my groin. Well, at least it did not go from my nose, and thanks for that. And the reaction was quite natural. It would be much more suspicious if there was none at all.
The fact that her vehicle gave up the ghost right at my doorstep was, of course, pure coincidence. Not surprisingly, she, having depicted all the world's sorrow on her face, headed straight for my door. She walked slowly, as if gathering her spirit to address a supposed stranger with a delicate request. She played, I had to admit, quite well. If I did not know who she really was, I might have bought into this performance. A melodious doorbell rang, and I, not wanting to prolong the prelude, opened.
"Oh, you..." she sweetly opened her mouth, and her eyes depicted universal surprise. Oscar, please.
"Yes, it's me. That same guy who saved you from universal shame a couple days ago," I smiled, accepting the rules of the game.
"What a coincidence! I never would have thought that in such a huge city as New York, something like this was possible! And just think, right near your house my tire decided to finally die!" she chirped, batting her eyelashes.
"Yeah, stranger things happen in life," I answered, shrugging. "I assume you need help with the tire?"
"Yes! I realized back then that you're one of those reliable guys you can always count on," she gave me a charming smile capable of melting glaciers.
I nodded silently and moved after her to the car. She opened the trunk and, demonstratively bending over, began looking for the spare and lug wrench. My gaze involuntarily stuck to her butt, perfectly outlined by jeans. She knew perfectly well that I was watching, and this fascinating and, let's be honest, eye-pleasing spectacle dragged on for a good fifteen seconds. Finally, having discovered the necessary tools, she with a joyful smile handed them to me and led me to the front tire, invitingly swaying her hips in time with her steps. Yes, this would be the longest and most painful tire change of my life.
"Whew, finally," I delivered the verdict, theatrically wiping sweat from my forehead.
Where did the sweat come from? The tire change itself was easy as pie. But try doing this when a sultry beauty with bated breath is interested in every little detail, constantly whispering what a strong, skillful man you are, a dream man in general. Try to concentrate when she accidentally touches your hand and her excited breathing tickles your ear. Try to maintain composure when you are a nineteen-year-old guy in the full bloom of puberty, and your body, even under NZT control, reacts to such provocations tenfold.
"That was incredibly cool!" Yelena breathed out admiringly when the last bolt was tightened. She approached me almost close, so that I felt the aroma of her perfume, and said in a half-whisper, "Maybe you'll come to my place for a cup of tea? I live literally a couple houses from here."
Fuck. No! My brain screamed danger. Don't take the bait! You are above these base instincts! Inhale. Exhale. Control.
"Sorry, but I have urgent matters at home," I abruptly put the lug wrench in her hands and, without looking back, walked quickly toward my house. Fortunately, no sound came from behind.
Slamming the door behind me, I leaned back against it with a long sigh of relief. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed in the window how Yelena's Ford smoothly started and parked two houses down from mine. Observation post deployed. Yelena was all well and good, but I needed not her. And as if by script, at this very moment another car pulled up to my house. This time, an ordinary yellow taxi.
"Wrong address!" first I heard a loud slam of the door, then the indignant but perfectly pitched soprano of a red-haired beauty. She stood at the driver's window and theatrically played her card, perfectly understanding that the appearance of a second random guest in a row looked extremely suspicious.
"Nothing understand! Right, not right! City big! And anyway, you not pay!" the taxi driver shouted back with a caricatured accent, after which he sharply hit the gas and disappeared around the corner, leaving Natasha Romanoff blinking in surprise.
"How can I pay you if my phone died!" she shouted after him, but it was too late, the taxi driver was far away. But who was close, and whose house looked so welcoming? Of course, she turned and headed toward me.
Theater of the absurd, I swear.
Again a ring. Again I open the door. Again on the threshold, a charming beauty with emerald eyes in which for a split second I really drowned.
"It's you!" Natasha exclaimed with the perfect note of surprise. "The guy with that silly joke!"
"The very same," I acknowledged the obvious. "For beautiful girls I have many more jokes in store, each sillier than the last."
"Sounds tempting, and such a coincidence is really something from the realm of the impossible, but I'm in a bit of a hurry," oh, this one decided to come from a different angle. "Only my phone died, wouldn't you know it," she showed me the dark screen. "Can I charge it at your place for a bit? And maybe call a taxi from yours?"
"Yes, no problem, come in," I stepped aside, inviting her inside.
Interesting, how would she conduct the conversation further? By her own legend, she had little time, and an interrogation disguised as small talk was a delicate process that did not tolerate haste. Well, now we would find out. I closed the door and caught a glimpse of how in the window of the house where Yelena had parked, a curtain twitched amusingly. The show was beginning.
The sterile whiteness of the hospital room pressed on the eyes. The silence was broken only by the measured, lifeless hum of medical equipment. On the spacious bed, under the close observation of a dozen sensors, lay a creature only distantly resembling a human. A smooth, seamless body of mirror-polished silvery metal retained the outlines of what it had been before, one of the planet's greatest young minds, Victor von Doom. His eyes, devoid of pupils, were two bottomless wells of liquid light. They stared unblinking at the ceiling, studying spectra invisible to ordinary mortals.
This silent contemplation could have lasted forever, but it was interrupted by the quiet click of an electronic lock. Reed Richards bustled into the room. He wore a white lab coat, and in his hands he held a tablet over which his eyes anxiously ran, reading endless lines of data.
"Report, Reed," came a voice from the bed. Unnatural, devoid of emotion and intonation, with a quiet resonance of polished metal. Victor did not even turn his head.
"Everything is incredibly complicated, Victor," Reed exhaled, and in this sigh was more helplessness than fatigue. "I still don't understand how you even exist! You have no organs in the usual sense. No blood, no nervous system. Nothing of human biology remains in you."
"Transmutation," this was not a question but a statement of fact. In the metallic voice a hint of curiosity slipped through for the first time. Victor turned his head, and his glowing eyes bore into Reed.
"Exactly! Complete, at the atomic level! Your body is a single, integral living crystal. Sentient metal! And..." here Richards' voice became noticeably quieter, notes of pity and scientific horror sounding in it. "This means you no longer feel anything. No touch, no pain, no warmth. Fatigue, fear, physical pleasure, for you these are now just words? Phantom memories from a past life?"
"Flesh is weak," Victor barely perceptibly nodded, as if confirming an axiom long known to him. "My abilities. What is their limit?"
"Potentially, you are the strongest of us," Reed changed the subject with obvious relief. "Your body consists of a unique, self-healing alloy spawned by cosmic radiation. It is resistant to extreme temperatures, colossal pressure, and capable of withstanding hits from large-caliber weapons. Even artillery strikes! Of course, this is not Adamantium, but you have molecular regeneration!"
"All this is obvious, I feel it without your instruments," Victor coldly interrupted him. "I no longer need to eat, breathe, or sleep. Electromagnetism. Tell me about it."
"Yes, of course! Electrokinesis and magnetokinesis. Your indicators, they are at the level of the strongest metahumans on the planet."
"Mutants," Doom cut him off again. "Call things by their proper names, Reed. This politically correct nonsense tires me."
"Hmm, yes, you're right. In short, this is solid Omega level! And also, I didn't ask during tests, but you see the world differently now, right?"
"Correct," Victor confirmed dryly. "The entire electromagnetic spectrum. From radio waves to gamma radiation. In addition I feel technologies. I can speak with them. For example, like this."
He did not move. But the light in the room smoothly faded, leaving the room in semi-darkness, then just as smoothly flared up again. The monitors for a moment showed interference, then returned to work.
"Technopathy..." Reed murmured admiringly, forgetting fear. "Victor, your potential is limitless! With your abilities we can bring humanity to a new level! Imagine what I'll announce at the conference..."
"No," the word sounded like a shot. Not loud, but absolute and unequivocal.
"But, how can this be?! You always dreamed of a better future for the whole world! You fantasized about this expedition, wanting to expand the horizons of knowledge! You..."
This time Victor interrupted Reed not with words. He lazily raised his hand. The air in the room crackled, filling with the smell of ozone. A blinding whip of azure energy tore from his fingers and struck Reed in the chest. Flash, crack, and the stunned Richards stood in the middle of the room, naked to the waist. His tablet, lab coat, and the clothes beneath had turned to ash.
Reed silently and fearfully stared at Victor, unable to utter a word.
"I knew your elastic structure would withstand it," Victor said calmly, holding his gaze. "Rubber, after all. My 'no' is categorical, Reed. All I desire now is to return to Latveria. And to digest what happened. I have no interest in conferences, empty speeches, scientific discoveries, and other tinsel."
"Y-you, you almost killed me!" Reed finally coming to himself wheezed, ignoring everything else.
"But I didn't. Though I could have. Consider this a visual demonstration of my position. I hope this time you heard me."
With these words the monumental metallic figure rose from the bed to its full colossal two-meter height. Without saying another word, the creature that had once been Victor von Doom moved toward the exit.
Victor von Doom was returning home.
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Author's Note: Summary for Chapters 1-50
Main Character Status
1. Basic Characteristics:
Physique: Enhanced, level of medium-weak meta in passive mode, medium in active (Iron Blood system modification).
Wisdom: Average (New characteristic, primarily about MC's thought process WITHOUT NZT buffs)
Intelligence: Very High (Master Clockmaker, Technological Modernization, Non-Mage Technology, Individual Armament: XCOM Philosophy, Entity Smith).
Loaded knowledge: Intelligence Potion recipes, Muscle Stimulator, Protective Field Generator (from Arcanum set), Master Clockmaker information packet (also Arcanum), Technological Modernization (Terra Formars), Non-Mage Technology, Individual Armament: XCOM Philosophy, Entity Smith (Wakfu), Iron Blood (Princess' Coffin).
2. Temporal and Spatial Coordinates:
Current date: Tuesday, daytime, September 29, 2015.
Time since arrival: 20 days (from Wednesday, September 9, 2015).
Location: USA, New York, Brooklyn, Bay Ridge.
3. Finances and Resources:
OP (Development Points): 50 (next Forge of Creation costs 800 OP)
Funds: Tens of thousands of dollars, but need tens or even hundreds of millions for lab and influence to hold it all, so money is not the issue
Valuable in inventory: Chimera suit (main combat unit, not counting Iron Blood)
4. Technologies, Skills, and Items:
Unlocked:
Recipe "Intelligence Potion"
Recipe "Muscle Stimulator"
Recipe "Protective Field Generator"
Recipe "Ash and Dawn Potion"
Recipe "Fatigue Pills"
Skill "Master Clockmaker"
Skill "Technological Modernization"
Item "Box of Magical Ore"
Blueprint "Improved Extremis Formula"
Information packet "Risk of Disassembly"
Skill "Non-Mage Technology"
Skill "Individual Armament: XCOM Philosophy"
Skill "Entity Smith (Wakfu)"
Skill "Iron Blood"
Locked (awaiting OP):
Item "Box of Magical Ore" (Cost: 500 OP)
Information packet "Ritualist-Optimizer" (Cost: 100 OP)
Information packet "Temporal Principle of Antimatter Manipulation - TPAM" (Cost: 900 OP)
Information packet "Strange Science" (Cost: 500 OP)
Remaining blueprints and recipes from Arcanum set (Cost: 350 OP with subsequent increase).