A week ago.
In cyberspace, Leo was digging through his memories—
In his original world, by 2035, after years of effort, nuclear technology had achieved a massive breakthrough.
But this breakthrough wasn't controlled nuclear fusion. Instead, after environmental treaties became waste paper—when nations silently agreed not to report or restrict illegal emissions—Leo and his research team created a new nuclear fission technology.
This revolutionary multi-element nuclear fission reactor was called the Supercritical Fission Reactor, or SCFR for short.
As the name suggests, the SCFR used a mixed-fuel core of uranium-235, plutonium-239, uranium-233, and thorium-232. Compared to traditional fission reactors, it achieved 50%–66% higher energy conversion efficiency and over three times the energy density.
Even better, the team developed a neutron flux control algorithm to manage the violent, complex multi-stage chain reactions. This massively improved fuel utilization, reducing the probability of fissile material turning into radioactive waste.
What waste did exist could be reintroduced into the cycle using SCFR's waste-conversion module.
More output, less waste, more power—SCFR should have become the most powerful power-generation technology before the advent of fusion. But…
[Little Octopus: "Big bro, why didn't we deploy this tech right from the start? It sounds like it solves everything."]
Little Octopus wasn't a research AI, but it had no trouble grasping the theoretical numbers Leo listed.
In short, the technology looked absurdly good on paper—making controlled fusion, always "just around the corner," look less attractive.
Even if fusion broke through, who knew when it would ever surpass this tech in efficiency?
Leo remembered every foundational principle behind SCFR, but he wasn't a computer.
SCFR was a super-reactor—its theories, algorithms, and techniques were far too vast for a human brain to store fully.
All he could do was recall as much as possible, then, with determination and a new team, rebuild it into reality.
With Little Octopus's help, data sorting went quickly.
For its question, Leo paused, sighed, and gently stroked its smooth data surface.
There were things he could only say to Little Octopus—this accidentally born AI was the only one who knew his deepest secret.
[Leo: "I used to think that too. Many people did—that if a breakthrough came, all problems would be solved, right?"]
[Leo: "But the truth is, human history is one breakthrough after another, one transformation of society after another."]
[Leo: "And yet, no matter the technology, no matter the change… one thing never changes."]
[Little Octopus: "(o_O)? …What is it?"]
Leo pulled a vast dataset from the net. Compiled, it formed a bizarre, chaotic city in the cyber-simulator.
The city dazzled and confused, feeding curiosity and driving exploration.
Leo then created targeted programs to purge parts of the data.
These programs sought out data they deemed fit to erase, devoured them, grew stronger, and soon turned on one another—
Two massive programs remained, locked in fierce combat.
The process resembled a chain reaction—once it reached a certain stage, it accelerated uncontrollably.
All memory sectors were consumed, driven into the final clash.
At the end, the two programs collapsed, tangled like a giant distorted mushroom cloud.
All data became unreadable—nothing meaningful remained in that memory sector.
Leo picked up a shard, fed it to Little Octopus.
The AI chewed, then spat out the data spores intact:
[Little Octopus: "(×ω×`)!"]
Leo chuckled, patted its head, and answered:
[Leo: "In my world, nuclear energy and radiation achieved the unimaginable. But in the end, what they could never solve was war."]
[Leo: "War never changes."]
SCFR's incredible numbers stunned every researcher.
A mid-sized SCFR plant, occupying 10–20 hectares, could generate 500 megawatts—enough to power an entire mid-sized city or industrial zone.
Leo watched the screen with quiet emotion as his team processed the implications.
Dr. Otto, already a top atomic physicist, immediately saw the design's feasibility.
But feasible didn't mean easy. If it were, someone would have done it already.
The hardest part was the neutron transmission-control algorithm, requiring countless nuclear tests to refine. "Countless" meant a global nuclear arms race, with nations flooding into nuclear experimentation, to gather enough data.
The algorithm also required an advanced neutron modulation system: layers of nanoscale reflective materials inside the core, controlled via algorithm.
With the reactor's wildly complex conditions, the central controller needed supercomputer-level speed, paired with a basic self-learning AI.
That problem, however, was solvable—Bloom Corporation were the top experts in computing hardware and software.
Next came the heat-management system. SCFR could technically use steam turbines, but that would cripple its potential.
Traditional nuclear plants worked by heating water into steam to drive turbines: nuclear → heat → mechanical → electrical energy.
SCFR aimed higher: magnetohydrodynamic (MHD) generation, directly converting working fluid into superheated plasma. Charged particles moving in magnetic fields would generate current—skipping mechanical conversion, easily surpassing thermal plant limits.
But turning that into reality required solving huge challenges. Luckily, Dr. Otto was an authority in the field.
Before Leo could assign tasks, Otto volunteered:
[Otto: "I'll handle MHD generation. Believe it or not, when I first designed my octopus arms, I wanted them to help me control ultra-high-temperature plasma."]
He was also a nuclear-fusion expert—fusion required handling solar-like plasma, so this had long been his specialty.
Even if MHD couldn't be cracked immediately, fallback steam systems could still be used—and that was Dr. Toomes's patented expertise.
The final obstacle wasn't technical.
It was real-world.
[Leo: "Good. Now let's discuss the last problem."]
[Leo: "Every supplier has rejected our requests for nuclear fuel. That means we'll have to mine it ourselves."]
[Leo: "Conveniently, Uranium Ten Corp plans to sell off the Mkuju River uranium deposit in Tanzania. We'll buy it."]
Everyone nodded—seemed reasonable.
But why consult them over a simple purchase?
Leo looked at them, and explained:
[Leo: "Roxxon Energy is also bidding for that mine."]
The scientists had little sensitivity in such matters.
For megacorporations, buying wasn't always about money.
It was about force.