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Three days and Ethan's admittedly terrible writing skills produced a project proposal that was, by his own assessment, barely functional.
The science was airtight. The grammar was not. He'd rewritten the executive summary four times and it still read like a physics paper that had been in a fight with a business plan and both of them lost.
But the core idea was solid. One word. One industry. One keynote for the company he was about to build.
Energy.
He handed the report to Graves in the man's office at the Bureau of Internal Affairs and waited for the reaction he knew was coming.
Graves read the first page. His eyebrows climbed. He read the second page. His eyebrows stayed up. By the third page, they'd settled into a furrow that suggested the Director of National Security was experiencing the specific combination of interest and anxiety that only Ethan Mercer could produce.
"Kid." Graves set the report on his desk. "I'm not trying to disrespect you."
"But."
"But converting nuclear fusion technology into commercial energy production involves difficulties that go far beyond the reactor itself. The control systems alone would fill a hundred-page specification document. Your palm-sized prototype is one thing. Scaling that up to power a city grid is an entirely different engineering challenge."
He leaned forward.
"And here's the real problem. If you build a full-scale fusion reactor and something goes wrong, the energy release wouldn't be like a fission meltdown. It would be worse. Orders of magnitude worse. You're talking about an explosion that could level a province."
Ethan rubbed his hands together and grinned.
"That's why we're not building it on land."
Graves blinked.
"If not on land, then where?" A pause. Realization crossed his face, followed immediately by disbelief. "The ocean? You want to build a nuclear fusion reactor on the seabed?"
The question was half-joke, half-test. Everyone in the energy sector knew that conventional reactors were built near coastlines for a reason: seawater cooling. But in the ocean? Submerged? The idea was absurd on its face. Large volumes of seawater flooding the reaction chamber would disrupt the fusion process entirely. This wasn't a technology limitation or an engineering challenge. It was a fundamental property of the elements involved in nuclear reactions. No amount of innovation could change the nature of matter itself.
Ethan shrugged.
"What if I told you I could actually build it on the seabed?"
The Director of the Bureau of Internal Affairs stood up so fast his chair hit the wall behind him.
"Impossible."
"Director—"
"Kid, I know you're a genius. I've accepted that. I've made my peace with it. But do not try to pull this with me." Graves's voice was sharp, the tone of a man who knew exactly where the line between ambition and delusion was drawn. "This issue has been studied by every top physicist in the Republic. It's been peer-reviewed, published, and settled. Building a reactor on the seabed is not a problem that can be solved by better technology or smarter engineering."
He jabbed a finger at Ethan.
"It is determined by the properties of the elements themselves. Period."
He wasn't wrong. And the fact that he wasn't wrong was exactly why Ethan was smiling.
Every invention Ethan had produced so far, while staggering, had followed the trajectory of existing science. The small nuclear reactor had been theorized for decades. The armor was an engineering marvel, but powered exoskeletons weren't a new concept. Even the serum had roots in biological enhancement research that mainstream science considered possible in principle, if not in practice.
Ethan's genius, as the world understood it, was making future technology appear in the present. Accelerating timelines. Solving problems that everyone agreed would be solved eventually, just not this soon.
But building a reactor on the seabed? That wasn't a timeline problem. It was a paradox. The elements that drove nuclear reactions couldn't function submerged. Not today. Not in a hundred years. Not ever. The physics said no.
Unless the physics was wrong. Or, more precisely, unless the physics was incomplete.
"What if I told you," Ethan said, his voice dropping into the calm, measured register that Graves had learned to associate with incoming headaches, "that there's an element that makes it possible?"
Graves stared at him.
"There isn't. Every element on the periodic table has been tested. Every combination. Every isotope. I can tell you with absolute confidence that not a single known element can achieve what you're describing."
Ethan's grin widened.
"You're right. Not a known element."
Silence.
"They haven't all been found yet."
The silence got louder.
"There are elements that haven't been discovered. And one of them — a specific, synthesizable element — has exactly the properties needed to stabilize a fusion reaction in a marine environment. Reduced pollution. Enhanced reactor performance. Underwater compatibility."
Graves's mouth was open. His eyes were fixed on Ethan with the expression of a man who was watching the ground crack open beneath his feet.
"You're telling me," he said, very slowly, "that you intend to create a new element."
Ethan nodded like this was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Of course. Otherwise, why would I start a company?"
"GET OUT."
The roar shook the office windows.
"GET OUT OF MY OFFICE RIGHT NOW."
Ethan was already backing toward the door with his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. He'd expected this reaction. Honestly, he'd have been worried if Graves hadn't yelled at him.
"YOU COME IN HERE AND TELL ME YOU'RE GOING TO SYNTHESIZE A NEW ELEMENT LIKE YOU'RE ORDERING LUNCH—"
The door closed behind Ethan. Through the wall, he could still hear Graves's voice, though the words had become less distinct and more profane.
In the corridor, three Bureau agents stared at Ethan with the weary familiarity of people who'd gotten used to their boss having emotional episodes whenever this particular teenager visited.
Ethan considered going back in to ask Graves to reimburse his taxi fare. Then he remembered the murderous look in the man's eyes and thought better of it.
I'll just keep a tab.
He was halfway to the elevator when his phone buzzed.
Graves.
"Send me whatever you need. Email. My inbox. NOW."
A beat.
"I must be losing my mind."
The line went dead.
Ethan stared at the phone. The screen still showed the call duration: four seconds.
Then his chest warmed. The same warmth he'd felt every time Frank had backed him, every time Linda had fed him without being asked, every time Dr. Hargrove had put his reputation on the line.
People who yelled at him and then helped him anyway. His whole life was built on people like that.
I'll waive the taxi fare interest for Director Graves.
-----
It was nearly evening when he got home.
He skipped dinner. Went straight to his room. Closed the door. And opened the System.
*[Prestige: 986,500]*
Nine hundred and eighty-six thousand points.
Ethan's hands trembled.
The press conference. The Bumblebee transformation. The assassination attempt on global television. Bumblebee's combat debut. The car chase. Every single moment had been broadcast to a worldwide audience, and the emotional shockwave — shock, terror, awe, patriotic fury, vindication — had generated Prestige at a rate that dwarfed anything before it.
Nearly a million points. More than everything he'd earned in his entire life, combined.
He scrolled through the Level 2 Mall.
*[Level 2 Mall] (Spend 2,000,000 to unlock Level 3 — current spending: 348,000/2,000,000)*
*Marvel Series:*
|Item |Cost |Status |
|-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------|-------|---------|
|J.A.R.V.I.S. A.I. (Juvenile Stage) |100,000|PURCHASED|
|Mark V Manufacturing Technology (Suitcase armor — compact, portable, reduced defense) |100,000|Available|
|Mark VI Manufacturing Technology (New energy suit — utilizes next-gen reactor, superior performance) |150,000|Available|
|Mark VII Manufacturing Technology (Flight pod armor — rapid deployment system, heavy weapons loadout) |200,000|Available|
|Stark Element Synthesis Technology (New element — reduces reactor pollution, enhances performance, enables underwater applications)|200,000|Available|
|Vibranium Synthesis Technology (One of the hardest metals in the Marvel universe — sound absorption, shock dampening) |500,000|Available|
*Transformers Series:*
|Item |Cost |Status |
|--------------------------------------------|-------|---------|
|Bumblebee Manufacturing Technology |200,000|PURCHASED|
|Disposable Spark (Awakens one Transformer)|100,000|Available|
|Megatron Manufacturing Technology |— |Available|
|Optimus Prime Manufacturing Technology |— |Available|
Nine hundred and eighty-six thousand points. The Stark Element was 200,000. Vibranium was 500,000. He could buy both and still have change.
Ethan rolled onto his back and hugged his pillow.
If Frank hadn't been downstairs watching the evening news, he would have screamed. The urge to howl at the ceiling was physical, visceral, the kind of joy that bypassed the brain and went straight to the gut.
A new element. An element that doesn't exist in this world. An element that will let me build a fusion reactor on the ocean floor.
And after that: vibranium. The hardest metal in the Marvel universe. Sound absorption. Shock dampening. Weapons-grade applications that would make the armor look like a toy.
He stared at the Mall interface glowing in front of his eyes, and for the first time in months, the path forward wasn't just clear.
It was wide open.