The transformation of the Aegis Hub from a shadow fortress into the Jacob International Research Center (JIRC) was the most complex logistical undertaking Einstein had ever managed—even more so than the liquidation of the Sterling Group. It required more than just money or power; it required a fundamental shift in the world's perception of "Jacob."
For three months, the North Atlantic city was a beehive of activity. Blue-collar engineers, top-tier scientists, and humanitarian logistics experts walked the halls once stalked by Synthetics. Einstein, now fully embracing his role as a "Consultant of the Future," spent his days on the modular docks, overseeing the arrival of medical supplies and the installation of the open-source desalination plants.
He had become a figure of myth, but he insisted on wearing a simple high-visibility vest and carrying his own tablet. He was no longer the King of the North; he was the foreman of a new era.
However, as the sun set over the churning Atlantic on a Tuesday evening, Einstein felt the familiar, subtle prickle of a new kind of gaze. It wasn't the violet cold of the AI or the golden heat of a Sovereign. It was sharp, digital, and disturbingly youthful.
The Prodigy's Challenge
Einstein was sitting in the "Canteen"—a communal dining hall he had insisted be built to replace the cold laboratories—when a young man sat down across from him. He looked barely nineteen, wearing a hoodie with the logo of a defunct Silicon Valley startup and spectacles that constantly scrolled with lines of green data.
"You're the man who gave it all away," the boy said, not bothering with an introduction. He started eating a bowl of noodles with a mechanical intensity. "The great Einstein Jacob. The Sovereign who decided he wanted to be a plumber."
Einstein didn't look up from his own plate. "I prefer 'Consultant.' And the plumbing in this city is actually quite sophisticated. Who are you?"
"My name is Cyrus Vane," the boy said.
Einstein paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "Vane? Any relation to the Director of the Ethics Committee?"
"He was my father," Cyrus said, his voice devoid of emotion. "He was a man of the old world. He believed in suppression. He thought he could lock the future in a box. I think he was an idiot."
Einstein set his fork down, his eyes narrowing. "And what do you believe, Cyrus?"
"I believe in the Hole," Cyrus replied. He turned his tablet around, showing a complex mathematical proof that Einstein's "New Human" brain recognized instantly. "You open-sourced the patents to stabilize human cells. You gave everyone longevity. But you forgot one thing, Einstein: the Mutation Rate."
The Fault in the Star
Cyrus pointed to a specific sequence in the code. "The Jacob-Resonance stabilizes the current human form. But it doesn't account for environmental stressors over a two-hundred-year lifespan. By giving everyone the 'Dividend,' you've accidentally created a timer. In twenty years, the 'Stable' cells will begin to degrade into something... unpredictable. A biological feedback loop. I call it the Jacob Decay."
Einstein felt a cold knot in his stomach. He hadn't seen it. In his rush to free humanity from the Council and the AI, he had focused on the immediate stabilization of life. He hadn't projected the long-term cellular entropy of an entire species.
"How did you find this?" Einstein asked.
"I didn't have a 25th-level Sovereign brain to help me," Cyrus sneered. "I just had a laptop and a grudge. I've been running simulations in my basement for six months. While you were playing architect here, the clock was ticking."
The New Market
Cyrus leaned in closer. "I'm not here to kill you, Einstein. I'm here to tell you that I've started a new company. Atropos Systems. I've already developed the 'Patch' for the Jacob Decay. But unlike you, I'm not giving it away for free."
"You're going to sell the cure for the disaster I accidentally created?"
"Supply and demand, Mr. Jacob," Cyrus said, standing up. "You made life a commodity. I'm making survival a luxury again. The Board of the Orion Syndicate? They aren't dead. They're my primary investors. They realized that they don't need to fight a War God if they can just own the air he breathes."
The Human Dilemma
Einstein watched Cyrus walk out of the canteen. For the first time since he gave back the Seal, Einstein felt a wave of genuine, human doubt. He had acted on instinct and morality, but Cyrus was acting on pure, cold mathematics.
He found Felicity in the command center, looking over the blueprints for the new educational wing. He told her everything.
"He's a child, Einstein," Felicity said, trying to calm him. "A brilliant, angry child. We can check his math. Elara can run the simulations."
"I already checked it," Einstein whispered. "He's right, Felicity. The mutation rate is real. I was so focused on the 'now' that I didn't see the 'forever'."
"Then we fix it," she said firmly. "We have the Hub. We have the best minds in the world."
"But Cyrus has the head start," Einstein countered. "And he has the Syndicate's backing. They're already launching a marketing campaign. They're calling the 'Jacob Dividend' a 'Genetic Time Bomb.' They're making me the villain of the story I tried to save."
The Return of the Analyst
That night, Einstein didn't go to sleep. He went to the "Sub-Core"—the restricted area where the remnants of the Chronos Protocol's hardware still hummed. He didn't reboot the AI, but he used the massive processing power to run his own simulations.
He watched as the holographic models of human cells began to fray and dissolve in the two-decade mark. The "Jacob Decay" was a jagged, ugly reality.
"I can't fix this with code," Einstein realized.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small, rusted iron box the First Disciple had given him—the empty one. He stared at it for a long time. He had given back the spark of godhood, believing that humanity deserved to be free. But by giving them a flawed immortality, he had handed them a new set of chains.
The Visit to the Void
Suddenly, the air in the Sub-Core shifted. The temperature dropped, and the lights flickered. Einstein didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't even stand up.
"You knew," Einstein said to the empty air.
The First Disciple appeared, leaning against a server rack. She looked exactly the same—young, timeless, and bored. "I told you the Seal was the 'Principal.' You gave the world the 'Interest.' And like all interest, Einstein, it eventually compounds into a debt."
"I need to fix the mutation rate," Einstein said. "I won't let Cyrus Vane turn human life back into a subscription service."
"Then you have to go into the Source Code," the woman said. "Not the DNA. The Metaphysical Origin. The Jacob DNA isn't from this world, Einstein. It's a graft. To stabilize it, you have to go to the place where the graft was made."
"The Orion Belt?"
"Deeper," she said. "The Ethereal Forge. It's where the Sun-God Seal was first hammered out. But to go there, you can't be a human, and you can't be a Sovereign. You have to be a Pilgrim."
The Pilgrim's Path
Einstein looked at the monitor showing the Jacob Decay. He looked at the empty box.
"What does it mean to be a pilgrim?"
"It means you leave everything behind," the First Disciple said. "No Vanguard. No Felicity. No Hub. You walk into the Forge with nothing but your own soul. If you survive, you can rewrite the law of the Decay. If you fail, you become part of the Forge's scrap metal."
Einstein stood up. He thought of the quiet life he had built. He thought of the £45.50 in his bank account and the leaky faucet in London. He loved that life. He loved the struggle of being ordinary.
But as he looked at the faces of the researchers sleeping in the floors above—people who were only alive because of him—he knew he couldn't stay quiet.
"I'll go," Einstein said.
"Einstein, no!"
He turned to see Felicity standing in the doorway. She had heard everything. Her eyes were filled with tears, but her jaw was set.
"You promised we were finished with the wars," she said.
"This isn't a war, Felicity," Einstein said, walking to her and taking her hands. "It's a repair. If I don't do this, every person we've saved becomes a victim of my own arrogance. I have to fix the engine I built."
"Then I'm coming with you."
"You can't," the First Disciple interrupted. "The Forge only accepts the one who held the Seal. Anyone else would be vaporized by the sheer reality of the place."
The Departure
The departure was silent. No jet, no submersible. Einstein stood on the highest point of the Aegis Hub, looking out at the endless Atlantic.
He said his goodbyes to Elara, who promised to hold the Hub together. He gave Rhea the final protocols for the Vanguard. And he spent an hour in silence with Felicity, a conversation that didn't need words.
"Come back to me," she whispered. "I don't care if you're a King or a gardener. Just come back."
"I'll be home for the weekend," Einstein promised, though they both knew he was lying.
He turned to the First Disciple. "Take me to the Forge."
The woman placed a hand on his shoulder. The world didn't explode in light. It simply thinned. The ocean, the city, and the smell of the salt air dissolved into a grey, featureless expanse.
Einstein Jacob, the man who had been a delivery rider, a billionaire, and a Sovereign, was now a Pilgrim. He was walking into the heart of the universe to fix the most dangerous debt of all: the debt of existence.
As he vanished from the physical world, Cyrus Vane stood in his high-rise office in New York, watching a satellite feed of the Aegis Hub. He saw the energy spike. He saw Einstein disappear.
"He's gone to the Forge," Cyrus whispered to the empty room. He tapped a button on his desk. "Initiate the Atropos Protocol. Since the King has left the board, it's time for the Heir to take the throne.