Chapter 5 – The First Spark
When Rion returned to his apartment, the silence felt heavier than before.
It wasn't just quiet — it was empty, like the air itself hadn't caught up with him yet.
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Every time he came back, it felt stranger. The transitions were clean, smooth — but a part of him could still feel that other body, far away, motionless, waiting.
He didn't know what happened when he left it…
but he was starting to suspect it simply stopped existing until he returned.
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He pushed the thought aside and focused on the chip.
It rested on his desk, faintly glowing blue under the morning light. His mind buzzed with ideas — images of circuits, designs, and energy flow paths that didn't belong to modern science.
He shouldn't know any of it… yet the steps unfolded naturally, like muscle memory from another lifetime.
Rion cracked a grin. "Alright, let's see how far junkyard science can go."
He raided drawers, stripped wires from an old speaker, and scavenged components from a dead graphics card.
The desk quickly turned into chaos: copper shavings, tangled wires, and a half-eaten instant noodle cup balanced on a multimeter.
Hours passed unnoticed.
He worked quietly, guided by something deeper than logic — instinct carried over from a world fifty years ahead.
Every connection clicked like déjà vu.
Every mistake corrected itself before it happened.
When he finally sat back, sweat on his forehead, there it was — a clear disk the size of his palm, faintly pulsing like a heartbeat.
He exhaled.
"Okay. Don't explode."
He tapped the center.
A faint hum rippled through the room.
The light on his desk lamp brightened — even though it wasn't plugged in.
The fan turned lazily by itself, powered by the faint blue shimmer hovering above the disk.
Rion's eyes widened. "...You've got to be kidding me."
He stepped closer. His phone, sitting a few feet away, buzzed to life — charging wirelessly. The energy field was real. Stable. Controlled.
He grinned, half in disbelief, half in thrill.
"I just made infinite power. Out of trash."
The glow slowly dimmed, and the hum faded. He disconnected the components, careful not to break the fragile prototype.
When he finally sat down again, the room felt heavier.
Not from exhaustion — from realization.
He stared at the chip. "That world's body just… waits for me to come back. But what if one day, I don't?"
The thought lingered — quiet, unsettling.
Then he smiled faintly. "Later problem. Let's get rich first."
He scribbled notes, ideas, sketches — plans to miniaturize the power core, to disguise it, to test limits.
All while a single rule echoed in his mind:
> "When I leave, that body sleeps. And only I can wake it."