One week after initial transformation attempt...
The rescue came at the worst possible moment.
Government forces had finally managed to breach my cell using some kind of quantum disruptor—and I was too depleted to fight back effectively.
[Nanomachine count: 987 billion] [System status: Critical] [Quantum abilities: Available but extremely limited]
"Target is weakened," I heard through their communications. "Nanite count significantly reduced from initial readings. Move in."
Soldiers in quantum-shielded armor poured through the breach. Their equipment had been specifically designed to counter my abilities—they'd learned from our previous encounters.
I tried to phase shift, but managed only a flicker before the drain forced me back to solid form.
[Phase attempt failed: Insufficient nanomachine reserves] [Current count: 934 billion] [Warning: System collapse imminent if count drops below 500 billion]
"Jack Steel," the lead soldier announced. "You're coming with us. The easy way or the hard way."
I laughed bitterly. They still thought they could control me, even in this weakened state. They didn't understand what I'd become—or what I was becoming.
"You interrupted something beautiful," I told them, flexing my hands as nanites rippled beneath the skin. "But interruption isn't prevention."
The alien knowledge fragments stirred in my consciousness. I might be depleted, but I was far from defenseless.
[Emergency protocols activated] [Redirecting all available nanomachines to combat configuration] [Quantum burst preparation: 30 seconds to critical mass]
"He's charging something!" one soldier shouted. "Quantum readings spiking!"
I wasn't trying to escape. I was trying to complete what they'd interrupted—even if it killed me.
The Architect presence whispered through the quantum field: Not yet, seed-bearer. Your time will come.
But I was beyond listening. Power built within me as my nanites sacrificed themselves for one last quantum surge.
[Final status: 887 billion nanomachines] [Quantum burst ready] [Warning: This action will reduce count to critical levels]
The choice was simple: burn out in a blaze of quantum fire, or preserve what remained and wait for a better opportunity.
I chose survival.
The power surge faded, leaving me drained but alive. The soldiers moved in, thinking they'd won.
They hadn't. They'd simply delayed the inevitable.
[End status: 887 billion nanomachines] [Quantum abilities: Severely limited but functional] [Evolution: Incomplete but irreversible]
I was no longer the unstoppable force I'd briefly become. But I was something new—something that had touched the edge of cosmic transcendence and lived to remember it.
And memory, I was learning, could be just as dangerous as power.
The quantum cage had taught me restraint. Now it was time to learn patience.
But gods, even incomplete ones, were notoriously bad at waiting.