44
"Fight fatigue?" Peter asked with genuine interest, following me to the laboratory table.
"Not just fight. We'll cancel it," I grinned. "We'll create miracle support pills that solve the three main problems causing fatigue and allow the body and brain to work at peak efficiency for an extended time."
"Adenosine, neurotransmitter depletion, and mitochondrial dysfunction," Peter immediately muttered, demonstrating why he was a genius. He had correctly identified the three horsemen of the apocalypse for anyone trying to work longer than prescribed.
"Exactly!" I snapped my fingers. "Adenosine, which accumulates in the brain throughout the day and causes drowsiness. Depletion of dopamine, norepinephrine, and acetylcholine reserves responsible for attention and motivation. And the banal physical fatigue when mitochondria stop efficiently producing ATP energy."
"Pharmaceutical corporations from all over the world have been struggling to create something similar for decades," Peter grumbled. "And for some reason, I suspect your recipe isn't about an improved version of caffeine..."
"Caffeine is like building a dam against a rising river of adenosine," I waved off. "It temporarily blocks receptors, but the adenosine itself doesn't go anywhere and continues accumulating. Then the dam breaks, and you get hit at once by a wave of fatigue. This isn't our way, Peter."
"Ha, thanks for explaining what's already obvious," he grinned. "But if you really manage to create such miracle pills... John, this will open incredible opportunities for us."
"I can. Everything is relatively simple, and everything we need is available in the lab. But there's a nuance: this isn't a full replacement for sleep. Sleep isn't just rest. The pill doesn't affect a number of processes: memory consolidation, removal of metabolic toxins, receptor restoration... After seventy-two hours without sleep, these side effects will accumulate to a critical level. So the limit of wakefulness under the pills is three days."
"Three days?!" Peter's eyes widened. "John, the most advanced military stimulants give thirty-six hours, after which you start seeing shadow people. Seventy-two hours of peak cognitive function isn't a stimulant. This is a temporary rewriting of the rules of human biology. Don't drag it out; tell me the recipe."
Scrolling through the components in my head, I began my explanation.
"The key idea is molecularly imprinted graphene. More simply, graphene nanoparticles on the surface of which we'll artificially create 'casts' or 'pockets' in shape and chemical properties ideally suited for adenosine molecules. Getting into the brain, these nanoparticles act as passive molecular traps."
"Wow..." Peter exhaled admiringly. "So this isn't a chemical reaction but physical adsorption. Like activated carbon absorbs toxins, only at the nano-level and with surgical precision."
I nodded in agreement.
"The next components are simpler: neurotransmitter precursors like L-tyrosine and Alpha-GPC, widely known and legal nootropics. And the creatine triphosphate complex for mitochondrial support, which we can easily synthesize. Well, and auxiliary substances for the form."
"Now it's clear why seventy-two hours!" Peter guessed. "All the 'pockets' on the nanoparticle surface will simply be filled with adenosine molecules. They'll become 'saturated' and stop working. The body needs time to naturally filter and eliminate them. Elegant."
"Exactly," I agreed, putting on my lab coat and gloves. "And now, to practice."
Like my other projects, I broke this one into stages. Stage one: synthesis of graphene oxide. I turned on the fume hood, and Peter and I approached the glass reactor with a magnetic stirrer.
"So, while the reaction proceeds here, we have a couple of hours," I said, pouring ordinary graphite powder into the reactor. "Perfect time to tell you where I disappeared last night."
Under the measured hum of the stirrer and hiss of the chemicals, I began my story. About Blade, about Fisk, who was Kingpin, about the Empire State Building. Peter listened, his eyes growing wider. He paled when I mentioned Gwen and how she had fought the other meta-mercenaries of Fisk. His jaw practically dropped when I described the EMP gun.
"So you better understand what we're talking about..." I said, and to illustrate my story, extended my hand into the empty space next to the workbench and pulled the mentioned EMP gun from my inventory, placing it on the table.
Peter recoiled. His scientific brain momentarily malfunctioned, trying to process what he saw.
"This... what... how?.."
"A spatial-type ability. I can store items in a small pocket dimension," I explained simply.
By the time I finished my story and answered a dozen questions from the stunned Peter, the first phase was completed. Having mixed the graphite with acids and potassium permanganate in the reactor, I obtained a thick, dark brown suspension. After washing and separation in the centrifuge, it turned into pure graphene oxide.
"And now," I said, placing the flask with the result on the table, "the most interesting part: molecular imprinting."
Without exaggeration, the most genius stage, and considering the recently downloaded NE-mage knowledge package, I understood how much, I thought, starting the second phase.
At this stage, I first mixed the graphene oxide suspension with a template molecule. In our case, with caffeine, which was structurally very similar to adenosine but cheap and available. Then I added a liquid polymer precursor, a combination of methacrylic acid and ethylene glycol dimethacrylate. This polymer, biocompatible and widely used in medicine, was to become our "clay" for molding.
After mixing, I treated the mixture with ultrasound in the sonicator so the template molecules of caffeine would be evenly distributed on the surface of the graphene sheets. Then, adding an initiator, I launched the polymerization reaction. The polymer began growing on the graphene surface like bark, enveloping the template molecules and creating strong nanoscale "casts" around them. All I had left to do was use a solvent and multiple washings in the centrifuge to wash out the template molecules. As a result, empty cavities remained on the graphene surface, ideally suited for capturing adenosine.
The third and final stage was already routine. The obtained molecularly imprinted graphene, or MIG, I dried in the vacuum oven to a state of the finest black powder. Under the electron microscope, I verified the perfect structure of the nanoparticles. Parallel to this, Peter, following my instructions, synthesized the creatine triphosphate complex. In the end, all the powder components, the MIG, nootropics, creatine, and fillers, I simply mixed in the planetary mixer to ideal homogeneity. The ready mixture, I loaded into the tablet press. Click, click, click. Everything was ready.
I held in my hand a small, gray, unremarkable tablet. A breakthrough drug created practically without outside help and, most importantly, without using the rarest components. Was this not a reason for pride?
[Created medicine "Fatigue Pill." Complexity: Normal. Received +200 OP!]
A pill that suppresses fatigue. Maintains the body and mind at peak performance, allowing hours of maintaining maximum concentration and energy without sleep.
[Created medicine "Fatigue Pill." Complexity: Normal. Received +150 OP!]
...
[Created medicine "Fatigue Pill." Complexity: Normal. Received +10 OP!]
For several dozen tablets, I received a total of 750 OP. The limit of point accrual for them was exhausted, but who cared. I recouped the costs and even came out to a pleasant plus. Without thinking, I swallowed one tablet, washing it down with water, and extended a second to Peter.
He looked at it doubtfully, but then shrugged and swallowed it too. Several seconds passed. And then... the effect came. It was like a veil falling from my eyes. The fatigue accumulated over the crazy day didn't just dull; it disappeared. It evaporated. My thoughts became crystal clear, and my body filled with even, calm energy.
"Wow..." Peter exhaled. "This... it's like my brain just rebooted."
"Welcome to productivity two-point-oh," I grinned. "And now, while we're both at peak, let's proceed to creating the suit for Blade."
Good thing I had the measurements and the improved design philosophy.
"Look, here's the problem," I began bringing Peter up to speed, displaying a 3D model of a human mannequin on the laboratory computer screen. "A standard 'Proteus' suit for a superhuman like Eric or Gwen would become more like a prison. Imagine: a sharp jerk or strike. The fabric on the joints, in the area of the elbows, knees, and shoulders, instantly hardens. The fighter, for a fraction of a second, turns into a clumsy statue. And their life may depend on those moments."
"I've thought about this too," Peter nodded seriously. "A one-piece suit won't work. We need a system that separates protection and articulation."
"Exactly. Therefore, the suit for Eric shouldn't just be armor; it should be a high-tech combat system. The solution is in thoughtful modularity and a hybrid approach."
"At a minimum, we need to ensure maximum protection of vital zones with solid 'Proteus' panels," Peter began thinking. "And for the joints... to preserve mobility... can we use something like floating hinges? Segmented protection?"
"Hmm, good thought!" I picked up the idea. "A hypothetical knee pad not from a solid piece, but from three to four narrow strips of 'Proteus' sewn with an overlap on a strong elastic base. When Eric bends his leg, these strips freely slide over each other without hindering movement."
"Yes! And when a bullet hits such a joint, only that specific strip that took the hit hardens!" Peter exclaimed enthusiastically. "The rest remain flexible. The joint doesn't lock completely, and the shockwave is still effectively distributed over the entire segment area. This is genius."
"Excellent, then let's settle on this concept of laminar armor," I nodded, feeling a surge of creative energy. "I have the measurements. Let's get to work."
Spurred by newfound clarity and a complete absence of fatigue, Peter and I began modeling. I sat down at the laboratory computer and adjusted the standard human model I had shown earlier to Blade's exact parameters. Then, constantly consulting with Peter, I began "drawing" on the digital avatar the exact location of each protective panel.
"Center of mass, chest and back, cover with solid plates," I began, overlaying the large panels on the model.
"Correct, but the abdomen needs to be segmented," Peter immediately picked up. "Three horizontal strips, like a lobster. Otherwise, he won't be able to bend normally."
We worked like a single mechanism. Next, I created 3D models of "floating" hinges for the elbows and knees, calculating with a jeweler's precision the ideal size and overlap of the narrow plates. Then came the turn of the katana.
"Not just a belt," I said, removing the standard mount. "A magnetic mounting panel with a quick release. No fasteners. Touch, and the sword is magnetized. A sharp jerk, and it's in your hand."
As the cherry on top, I added several reinforced polymer MOLLE straps on the belt and chest, a modern modular mounting system for all his anti-vampire arsenal.
For another couple of dozen minutes, we rotated the resulting model, making microscopic adjustments and achieving an ideal balance between brutal protection and predatory ergonomics. Finally, the design stage was officially completed. It was time to move from the digital model to its physical embodiment.
Our laboratory turned into a high-tech workshop. Peter took on the base. On the industrial weaving machine, he created a seamless jumpsuit from a mixture of aramid and elastane fibers. It was supposed to fit the body tightly, wick away moisture, and serve as the armor frame. According to our shared concept, the hood became an integral part of the suit, providing a seamless transition from the torso to the head and additional protection.
Meanwhile, I, under a deafening roar, using the 5-axis CNC machine, cut the negative mold matrices for each panel from blocks of heat-resistant polymer. Then, into these molds, I manually, layer by layer, laid out the "Proteus" fabric, impregnated it with polymer glue, and sent it under the heat press. After a few minutes, I had perfectly formed, hard but potentially flexible armor panels in my hands.
By the same method, I created smaller plates for the joints. Then, having cut the base from ballistic nylon, Peter and I, using high-strength elastic straps, sewed these plates onto it with a slight overlap. The mobile but protected hinges were ready.
The assembly stage began. Taking the jumpsuit base, I again used the heat press and glue to secure the main armor plates on it. The edges I additionally stitched with reinforced thread for maximum reliability. The ready hinge modules, Peter carefully sewed into the corresponding places on the jumpsuit.
Next came the integration of mounts. A powerful electromagnetic lock was implanted in the left side of the belt. The polymer straps, I secured on the suit by an ultrasonic welding method, fusing them with the base at a molecular level.
Gloves with knuckle protection and reinforced shafts were created separately, which would be well integrated with his combat boots. A thin, flexible "Proteus" plate for the forehead and back of the head protection was also sewn into the hood. The suit was ready. It was functional, but it lacked soul.
"It's too... clean," I said when we put the suit on the mannequin. "It'll glare. Blade is a night hunter. He needs shadow."
And then it hit us. After a brief discussion, we developed a special coating. This was a matte, black-gray polymer paint, to the composition of which we added ferrite microparticles for radio wave absorption and hollow ceramic microspheres for thermal signature reduction. Using a sprayer, we applied it in several layers. Now the suit not only became less noticeable to radars and thermal imagers but also absolutely did not rustle when moving.
[Created light armor "Proteus Suit X-01." Complexity: Normal. Received +400 OP!]
A light modular suit with durable panels from "Proteus" fabric protecting vital zones. "Floating" hinges ensure full joint mobility, maintaining high protection without loss of agility.
The suit was ready. Perfectly fitted, deadly, and practically invulnerable. A true work of engineering art... which the system rated at only 400 OP. Considering we'd killed an entire night on it, and the colossal work that had been done, this was a little disappointing.
Well, okay. It would be a sin to complain. I looked at the mannequin clothed in our creation. I hadn't made this suit for points, but so Blade, in his eternal war, would have an easier time. And I thought our concept had succeeded one hundred percent.
"Oh, finally finished, lovebirds," Blade's mocking voice rang out. He sat on the couch in the hub sipping something from a flask as soon as we left the laboratory. But that wasn't what caught my eye. "Spill it. What were you so actively creating all night that you didn't even notice me?"
"What's Frank doing here?" I nodded my chin at the man who lay unconscious on the second couch, connected to an IV drip.
"Ah, this... Well, he's regenerating very quickly. Too quickly for an ordinary person. In hospitals, they might start asking uncomfortable questions; the nurses are already gossiping. I decided to save everyone from the extra paperwork and took him," Blade explained carefreely. "Something like ten hours left until full recovery. He'll lie here, come to his senses, and I'll have a chat with him. Don't worry."
"Okay." Who cared that he'd kidnapped a person; we didn't need extra suspicions. "Did everything go normally with Uncle Ben?" At this question, Peter held his breath.
"Yes, everything hunky-dory. I drove home for the twenty-four hours. With his diagnosis, this was permissible. I made sure no one suspected anything. True, I also processed his wife so she wouldn't pay attention to his condition while he rapidly recovers. We'll write everything off as a miracle, or your friend will explain everything to them himself," Blade answered with a shrug.
"Yes... thank you very much!" Peter thanked us both. He didn't even protest Blade's mental magic.
"Well, Peter, as Eric says, our people should stick together. As for what we were doing... Come on, let's show him," I waved my hand toward the laboratory.
Intrigued, Blade followed us. On the spacious table, on a special mannequin, lay a brand-new, matte black protective suit.
"You can change and test it. As agreed, the suit in exchange for the blood."
"Blood?" Peter asked with bewilderment, while Blade, without wasting time, began pulling off his old equipment.
"Yes, vampire blood. And Eric's own. He's a dhampir, by the way," I explained in a whisper. "Half-human, half-vampire. He doesn't have their weaknesses. I believe his blood can help in the research and creation of some sort of super-soldier serum, at a minimum level."
"Wait... vampires... REALLY exist?!" Peter whispered with bulging eyes, his scientific world cracking.
"Vampires, mages, demons, aliens, world government, mutants, gods," I listed indifferently with a shrug. "It's easier to say what doesn't exist in this world."
"And what doesn't?" Peter asked, obviously taking my answer as a joke. But Blade, already pulling on the new jumpsuit, looked at me with surprising seriousness.
"Limited-edition Szechuan sauce from McDonald's that was sold in a limited run in 1998 in honor of the 'Mulan' cartoon release," I reduced everything to a joke. "Well, how is it, Eric?"
Blade, already fully dressed, made several sharp, lightning-fast movements: a strike, a dodge, a turn. The suit fit him like a glove without making a single sound.
"Fucking awesome!" he finally delivered his verdict. "This shit is like a second skin. Just amazing. If only some creepy mask to scare evil, and you could say I've rebranded."
"Your mug scares them worse than any mask," I grinned. "But the idea is interesting. I'll think about what can be done with this."
"Thanks. I won't remain in your debt."
"It's rather me who's in eternal debt to you..."
"Hah, yeah, money is a renewable topic," he waved off. "But a suit like this or your stimulants, you can't get anywhere. So don't play poor."
"Well, that's also true. By the way, Peter, are you going to the university lab today? Or maybe you'll stay here?"
"Well, Gwen seems to be there now, so in theory, I can stay here if needed. Why?"
"Basically, I'm going to go to a proven law firm and consult about a couple of patents. And you, if it's not too much trouble, create as many stimulants and NZT as you can. We'll need stock."
"Oh-oh, kid, decided to go public, and right away with the trumps!" Blade said appreciatively, assessing my plan.
"Um, what exactly will you patent?" Peter asked after nodding to my request.
"Just consulting for now. A patent is not a quick matter... But since I've most likely attracted extra attention, there are options to speed this up. Buy off with the same 'Proteus,' get protection. Basically, I don't know yet how everything will work out, but at a minimum, I want to understand the essence of the bureaucratic process."
"Where are you going, if it's not a secret?" Blade asked, and curiosity slipped into his voice.
"Not a secret. The law firm 'Nelson and Murdock.'"
I saw it. This wasn't just a spark in Blade's eyes. He froze for a moment, and a barely noticeable, knowing grin appeared on his face. He definitely knew Matt Murdock. But I didn't.
Well, not for long.
//==============//