As Murcy walked away from his master's office, he failed to notice a small object floating in the corridor—about the size of a fly, yet clearly something else entirely.
"An ignorant, aging man with a god complex, driving his own house to ruin—and trying to stave off the inevitable by eliminating rivals before they can grow too strong. Well, actually, no—in this case, they're already strong enough, but he simply refuses to accept it."
[And in doing so, he only accelerates his own downfall—and that of his descendants.]
"Though his descendants, for that matter, aren't much better... well, at least they aren't any worse."
Helion remarked to Ajar, recalling stories he had witnessed across both his first and second lives. With a flick of his hand, the image of the decaying mansion vanished, allowing him to return his focus to his immediate surroundings.
It had been two weeks since he'd become an adventurer, and he was currently "resting" at his base—a project now 30% complete.
[It certainly seems that way—a rather cliché story, if you ask me.]
"Huh." Helion shrugged. "I suppose every species has individuals like that. Even among ants, you find the occasional worker that doesn't pull its weight—or simply does less than the rest."
He said this, remembering the time he'd spent observing various creatures just to stave off boredom. He could have easily conjured up more intriguing things within the cyberspace where the AIs "dwelt," but he had always felt a certain hesitation about doing so.
There was an echo of a long-forgotten warning—one that explicitly stated that this space was meant for the AIs. It wasn't his place to turn it into his own personal sandbox just because he was bored—not when he had an entire universe at his disposal for that very purpose.
It's not that he consciously believed it, or that he truly thought he could pull it off... though, if he were willing to wipe out a few stars—well, who knows?
'Why, exactly, did I decide to start with dimensional-rift research? Why hadn't anyone else gone down this rabbit hole before? Why did I focus on this instead of, say, creating a direct lineage of humans?'
These were the kinds of questions that had plagued him ever since he became the last human in his second life—questions that always led back to the same annoying, unsatisfying answer.
'Doesn't really matter, though. I'm here. I managed to do it, and now I've got plenty to keep me entertained.'
"How are the preliminary studies on our guests coming along?" Helion asked, pushing those persistent questions to the back of his mind—knowing full well they'd eventually resurface—and choosing to focus (a bit) more on the tests he was conducting on his guests.
[According to the latest analyses, we've determined that, as expected, the species-radical of the 'natives' is highly varied. The colleted data supports our initial hypothesis: this variation is indeed driven by that unknown energy—the only one of its kind in this environment. We've also inferred that the ability to manipulate matter, which some individuals have demonstrated, is likewise rooted in this energy.]
Nothing here was news to Helion or his AIs. But one thing still puzzled him.
"The physical changes seen in some individuals—where some appear more animalistic than others, while some merely possess certain animal-like traits—are these also a result of this 'magic' energy?"
[Correct. This energy can be likened to a form of radiation that behaves simultaneously as both a wave and a particle, interacting with matter itself and the way matter propagates. It triggers a significantly higher mutation rate—yet one that remains controlled, with a much lower risk of producing undesirable outcomes.]
Ajar replied.
"And much of this is due to the fact that this special organ developed within this specific environment, right?"
[Yes. Even without it, the mutation rate would still be high, but negative outcomes would be far more frequent. The development of this organ, however, makes it possible to... relatively stabilize the results. Though this consistency also depends on the size of the organ in question and how efficiently it handles waste products.]
"So, it's not exactly a lung, but it functions in much the same way. Does it depend on oxygen, or not?"
Helion recalled the initial experiment he had conducted with a group of bandits a week prior; this had been one of the hypotheses he'd considered. However, due to a lack of time and the fact that the environment wasn't a controlled, the results hadn't been particularly reliable.
[Based on our analysis, that also depends on the species being examined. In the base species used—which is similar to humans—the organ is highly dependent on the act of respiration, though not necessarily on oxygen itself. It appears that native individuals can absorb this 'magical energy'—as you put it—even when deprived of oxygen, or when it is supplied to them directly.]
"Hmm, so the type of species also plays a role in how efficient the organ is—is that it?"
[Partially. The underlying species can influence the shape and size of the organ, but it's not a hard-and-fast rule. Within the same species, some individuals might have a larger organ, while others have a smaller one—and vice versa.]
"So, a species may show a general tendency for an organ to be of a certain size. But this does not guarantee that all individuals in that determinantes species will have the organ of the same size, or even that the organ will function in the same way?"
[Precisely]
"Hmm." Helion rose from his chair and began to walk. "Given the obvious diversity of species—and the genera underlying them—is it possible for native species to produce hybrids among their own subspecies?"
[Laboratory analyses suggest that it is. However, the extent to which this might occur, or the specific types of species involved, cannot yet be determined due to a lack of test material.]
"Well, I've come across a mission that might help with that later on. For now, let's see how our guests are doing."
Helion spoke while standing before a large set of double doors, above which the word "Hellamilar" was inscribed in bold, red lettering. In the language of his second life, "Hellamilar" would be roughly equivalent to "central testing facility"—which also happens to be the origin of his chosen name, Helion: "central" or "principal" researcher.
He always found it somewhat amusing; in his first life, his name echoed that of an ancient titan associated with the sun, while the name of this central laboratory reminded him of the word for "hell" in one of the major languages of his original world.
It was an unusual blend—an ancient belief system meeting a more modern sensibility—for a being who was already quite old when his second life began, and who had subsequently spent years in a "hell" of boredom and relative solitude.
'I certainly have more to keep me occupied now than I ever expected.'
He thought to himself as he stepped into the laboratory. To the current Helion, the space looked like an ordinary lab; but to the Helion of his first life—or to someone newly arrived in this world—the sight would have perfectly matched the name "Hellamilar": *hell-similar*.
(Autor: I said I would post chapters for all the novels, but this one is going to fall a bit behind—my sincerest apologies to those who read it. Also, a question: do you think I'm overdoing the "scientific" side of things, or should I keep going as I am?)