47
So, what could I create? No, the question was posed incorrectly. What could I create that would make me stronger on all fronts here and now? And preferably, this should also be a common asset, a calling card defining my value as a brilliant specialist for SHIELD. Actually, the answer was one: improve "Proteus." Turn it from a simple protective suit into a full-fledged combat exoskeleton, stuffed with technologies to the brim. Especially since these technologies, thanks to Shocker, Vulture, and Rhino, I had in abundance. I would conduct reverse engineering; the most interesting parts, I would steal... ahem... adapt, and happiness would be mine.
Repeating the process of creating a suit for Blade, but adapted for my physique, I didn't spend much time. The process was refined like on an assembly line, and soon, a perfect base hung on the mannequin before me. I proceeded to the first modification element: the gloves. Of course, the gloves, or more precisely, the single remaining Shocker glove, became the ideal reference for this. Placing it on the laboratory workbench, I carefully disassembled it, laying out the components on a sterile surface like a surgeon before an autopsy. This time, I analyzed it not with the goal of targeted modification but with the full understanding that I wanted to assemble something similar but an order of magnitude better.
"Hmm, crude, but effective for intimidating punks. And how did Gwen manage to lose to this?" I muttered into the emptiness, studying Schultz's technology.
This was assembled by a talented but resource-limited engineer. Well, or stolen from Hammer Industries. And I, it turns out, was stealing from a thief? Amusing. Essentially, this was an industrial jackhammer converted for combat. Powerful but inefficient, energy-intensive, and devoid of any precision. It was a sledgehammer in a world requiring scalpels.
Power source: A simple lithium-polymer battery pack. Bulky, heavy, with limited operating time and long charging. It was an antique.
Converter: A set of inductance coils and powerful capacitors. Its task was to convert direct current to ultra-high frequency alternating current. It worked, but with enormous efficiency losses.
Emitters: The heart of the technology. A simple package of piezoelectric crystals enclosed in a tungsten alloy resonator. When current was applied, the crystals vibrated, creating a shock wave. It was cheap and cheerful.
Control system: As Schultz had said before his death, primitive and straightforward. Clenching the fist closed the circuit. Clenching force was regulated by a simple rheostat. It was crude, like the gas pedal in an old truck. No feedback, no fine tuning.
Housing: No elegance, no optimization. A massive steel shell with damping pads. Bulky and heavy.
I didn't even look at the rest of Shocker's suit. I understood that I would have to reassemble everything from scratch. I couldn't use something so... limited.
"Hah, when did I become so picky?" I asked the laboratory silence. And the silence, in the voice of my own mind, answered me. "Since you understood that disposable garage crafts were not an argument that would allow you to negotiate with Nick Fury on equal terms. Since Blade, a warrior with more than a century of experience, highly valued your worth. This level must be maintained."
So. The goal was not to improve. The goal was to create anew, using the idea itself but on a completely different technological level.
Power source and energy system. Obviously, my palladium reactor. The power supply would increase by several orders of magnitude. This would allow powering a much more advanced emitter, and the operating time would become practically infinite. Installing the reactor separately in each glove was idiocy. Instead, I would integrate a universal power port into the glove base. It, in turn, would be connected to the central power grid of the suit, which would be powered by the palladium reactor located, for now, presumably on my back. Thus, the glove became modular. It could be removed. But when connected, it gained access to practically inexhaustible energy, which also allowed making the glove itself lighter and more compact. This would not be just a gadget. This was a component of an integrated system.
Good, the energy question was solved. Now, the heart of the device. How to achieve the highest efficiency? Obviously, grow the piezoelectric crystal myself. As they say, if you want to do well, do it yourself. And I dared to hope that my current knowledge was enough for something similar. Why use natural quartz with its defects when you could create a perfect crystal lattice in a controlled environment? If you wanted to create a perfect tool, you started by creating perfect materials.
In the vacuum induction furnace, I created a supersaturated solution based on lead tungstate and barium titanate. Then I added a secret catalyst to it. Pluronic, a transparent gel from medical laboratories resembling thick syrup, became a sort of scaffolding for the future crystal lattice. To it, I added a perfluorocarbon modifier of a special formula. With it, the crystal growth acquired laser precision: the piezo-coefficient d33, a measure of how much electricity an impact gives, soared by three hundred to five hundred percent. All because the nanostructure of the future crystal, porous inside like a honeycomb but monolithic outside, multiplied polarization many times.
Next, using a precisely tuned magnetic field, I launched the process of directional crystallization. This was like the work of a digital potter: I didn't just wait; I formed the growing structure. In several hours, a large, absolutely transparent, and structurally perfect synthetic crystal grew in the furnace. Using the 5-axis CNC machine with the diamond cutter, I gave this crystal a perfect geometric shape calculated on the computer for maximum resonance effect.
The final crystal turned out to be approximately five times more efficient than the limited samples Schultz had used. But now the question of control arose. Primitive fist clenching? This would be an insult to such a work of art. I needed something more serious. Something like a neuro-interface?
The idea, once it appeared, no longer let go. This was not just a thought but a revelation. The possibility to instantly change the frequency and power of vibration by force of thought. With improved technology, previously impossible modes became available to me:
"Vibro-scalpel": An ultra-high, focused frequency capable of cutting metal like butter.
"Infrasonic shock": A low, disorienting frequency causing nausea and dizziness in opponents without physical contact.
"Kinetic shield": Creation of a vibration field around the glove capable of deflecting or destroying objects flying into it.
A neuro-interface for such fine control became vitally necessary.
Okay, the neuro-interface that would be integrated into the entire suit system, I would save for dessert. Now I needed to solve a more pressing problem: recoil. What were the options? The antiphase principle? Too delicate work that would take a very long time for calculations. Then... resonant damping. Obvious and effective.
Around the main emitter crystal, I carefully installed a "floating" cage from a layered composite, which I also made myself. The composite consisted of alternating layers of Kevlar, ballistic gel, and the thinnest lead sheets. When the crystal vibrated, it transmitted part of the vibrations to this cage. I calculated the design so that each layer of the composite had its own resonant frequency. When the vibration passed through them, the layers began resonating out of sync, effectively canceling each other's oscillations. This was like trying to swing on a swing when someone constantly pushed it in antiphase.
Yes, this was not as elegant as complete wave annihilation, but up to ninety-eight percent of the recoil was absorbed and dissipated inside the glove itself as heat. The heat, which would then be removed by the suit's general cooling system. It was incredibly effective and, most importantly, fully feasible in my current conditions.
Housing and design. An incredibly important part. Here, the duo of the CNC machine and 3D printer came into play. Using the former, I carved the power frame and glove base, its skeleton, from a solid piece of aerospace aluminum alloy. While the machine buzzed cutting metal, the 3D printer began its additive magic, layer by layer creating external, non-load-bearing panels from light but strong carbon fiber. They had a perfect anatomical shape calculated based on a 3D scan of my hand.
The final glove turned out light, strong, perfectly fitted, and looking like a high-tech product, not like a converted garage tool. In the future, it would easily integrate with the rest of the suit, connecting to power and neuro-ports on the forearm. I held it in my hand right now. It was cold, smooth, and promised incredible power. Excellent, the first step was taken.
I carefully placed the finished glove on the table and shifted my gaze to the next trophy lying aside: the bulky Vulture wings. Initially, I had thought about boots for flight, but... this was not the best option. Therefore, it was time to study what exactly that gloomy genius who worked for Fisk had concocted.
Approaching the massive winged exoskeleton, I began my research. More precisely, an autopsy. This procedure dragged on for a good hour. Why so long? Because this was not technology. This was, mother of god, a clusterfuck. Garage consumer goods brought to the limit of the engineering thought of a person whose tools were only a sledgehammer and a welding machine.
Engine: A noisy, bulky, and dirty micro-turbojet engine running on aviation kerosene. A roaring, smoking, and damn inefficient contraption leaving behind a thermal trail visible from orbit.
Wing design: Assembled from industrial turbine blades and pieces of titanium alloy held together by bolts and crude welding. And they were completely mechanical! For changing geometry and maneuvering, it used a complex and painfully slow system of hydraulic actuators and servomotors. Large, heavy, and incredibly vulnerable at the joints.
Control system: Two joysticks built into the gloves. Joysticks! In an era of possible neuro-interfaces! This required enormous skill from the pilot and did not allow truly sharp and intuitive maneuvers.
Protection: Absent as a class. The design was open. The engine and fuel tanks were perfect targets the size of a refrigerator.
These were not wings. This was literally a flying tractor. Effective for robbery and intimidation, but in a serious battle against a high-tech opponent, this was a flying coffin. I wouldn't improve this. I would have to create everything from scratch again.
"Eh, if only they would give freebies once..." I grumbled discontentedly, comprehending what exactly I wanted to create.
So far, it turned out that I wanted not just a means for flight. Too much valuable space on my back. Hmm, perhaps it was worth making something like a multifunctional combat platform? So the wings would be a weapon, shield, and engine simultaneously. Naturally, integrated into the suit. It sounded... reasonable. And most importantly, this could be made stylish too. Whatever anyone said, in this world, style was valued. Tony Stark understood this perfectly. The scene with the epic appearance of the Hulkbuster in one of the films was still imprinted in my brain as the standard of spectacle and coolness. I needed to strive for something similar. So, let's begin.
The base. Instead of a turbine, I, surprisingly, would use energy from my cheat palladium reactor. Now I had definitely decided: it would be located on my back. The base of the wings themselves would not be a bulky exo-backpack but an armored platform that mounted over the reactor. On the CNC machine, I carved a solid frame from aerospace aluminum, which simultaneously served as a protective casing for the reactor and a base for the wing mounting. This also solved the back vulnerability problem.
Wings. No crude mechanics. No servomotors. Only plasma, only hardcore. Instead of mechanical blades, I created solid-state plasma emitters. Each wing "feather" ultimately would not be a piece of metal but an elongated flat emitter inside which was a matrix of graphene supercapacitors and focusing magnetic coils. At the command of my future neuro-interface, the reactor would send a powerful energy pulse to the emitters. They would ionize the surrounding air, turning it into plasma, and with the help of a magnetic field, eject it downward at enormous speed, creating jet thrust. Varying the power on different "feathers," I would be able to perform incredible maneuvers. The flight would be silent, without fire or smoke. In a folded state, the wings would look like two small, elegant techno-backpacks behind my back. In a deployed state, they would form from a dozen such "feathers" glowing with blue light.
Defense and attack. According to my design, with the help of a specially written protocol for the neuro-interface, the wings would be able to instantly change their configuration by mental command. They could fold together before me or above me, forming a solid surface. At this moment, the plasma emitters would switch from "pulling" mode to "defensive." They would create on their surface a stable, laminar plasma field with a temperature of several thousand degrees. Bullets hitting this field would instantly evaporate. Energy beams would dissipate. This would not be a pathetic piece of metal but a nearly impenetrable energy barrier capable of withstanding short but intense bombardment.
Scrolling through the design in my head and on the computer once more, I understood that it was time to do the final assembly. The base of the design was carved from metal, but the emitter-"feathers" themselves, I created from heat-resistant ceramics printed on the 3D printer, inside which I placed all the most complex electronics. Naturally, the wings were modular and attached to the back platform using a quick-release electromagnetic lock. In case of critical damage, I would be able to "drop" them by mental command in a fraction of a second.
The output was, though not refined at the software level, an overall compact, modular, and elegant system. In travel mode, a protected backpack. In combat mode, silent plasma wings. In defensive mode, a practically impenetrable plasma shield. Not just wings but a Swiss Army knife for aerial combat, forged by... Um, Daedalus? No, everything ended badly for him. And for me... it was time to proceed to the key stage.
Alas, but the most powerful hardware in the world was useless junk without perfect software. The power of thought... honestly, this was definitely the most complex and most important node of the entire system. I sincerely did not want to implant a chip into my brain; my skull was not a server rack. Which meant a non-trivial, interdisciplinary approach was required. Well, or... do this in the spirit of the superhero genre and stuff everything into one module. Into a mask. Oh. I definitely would not abandon this idea now. The symbol of my hidden identity would become the source of my power. And, oddly enough, most of the work on this mask I would... program.
For this, I created a simple AI and conditionally named it "Synapse." It would be responsible for reading brain signals with the highest accuracy, using only the mask contact points with my head. Instead of one type of sensor, I used a multimodal reading system. "Synapse," receiving data from three sources simultaneously, cross-referenced them to eliminate interference and obtain a crystal-clear signal about intentions.
Source one: dry graphene electrodes, also known as EEG - the "seismograph of thoughts." The inner lining of the mask adjacent to my forehead and temples was permeated with a network of flexible graphene micro-electrodes. They read general electrical activity of the brain directly through the skin, giving an overall picture of mental activity.
Source two: fNIRS sensors - the "activity map." In the forehead area, I built in miniature infrared sensors. They shone through the upper layers of the skull and measured oxygen levels in the blood in the prefrontal cortex. This technology allowed "Synapse" to see which specific brain area was active and filter background noise from targeted commands.
Source three: EMG sensors - the "intention sensors." In the straps securing the mask, I built in electromyographic sensors. They read barely noticeable, preconscious electrical impulses that the brain sent to the muscles fractions of a second before movement began.
How did this work in theory? I think: "Activate wings!" "Synapse" sees: an activity spike on EEG, increased blood flow in the motor cortex on the fNIRS scanner, and a micro-contraction of back muscles on the EMG sensors. Cross-referencing all three signals, the AI, with ninety-nine point nine percent accuracy, identified the command and instantly transmitted it to the wing modules.
How did this happen in practice? Calibration. Constant code modifications. And thirty fucking hours of programming under NZT, during which I essentially conducted a continuous dialogue with the machine, teaching it the language of my thoughts. This was the most exhausting mental work of my life. But the result... it was definitely worth it.
The small matter remained: finish the mask. Sleep was beginning to pull slightly. No matter how good the fatigue pills were, when your mind and body worked to exhaustion for more than fifty hours straight... No. I would finish the suit. And only then, with a clear soul and conscience, would I rest.
So, where was I? Ah yes, the mask and its respiratory part. The brain was connected. Now I needed to connect the lungs.
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