Ch 47 - Saul's ai
Veritas Alpha, still inhabiting the massive frame of Bjorn, stood silently, the aura of his celestial nature momentarily suppressed, feeling the familiar thrum of celestial mechanics echoing through him. The plan to move on Thorne was finally coalescing, a necessary step to peel back another layer of Apex Negativa's control structure.
The room around him was busy without being loud. People were moving with purpose, checking gear, speaking in low tones, glancing toward doors and monitors and one another. It had the feel of a command post built by practical people under pressure rather than soldiers following a polished doctrine. Which, in a way, was exactly what it was.
Mike was still adjusting to the reality of seeing system prompts in the air.
Oscar noticed him staring again and said quietly, "If you keep squinting at it like that, it won't explain itself any faster."
Mike blinked twice.
"I'm not squinting. I'm… evaluating."
"You're squinting."
Mike let out a breath.
"Fair."
Veritas Alpha did not smile, but he heard all of it.
He had been considering the ramifications of expanding the network of mortals aware of the true nature of reality—specifically, the distribution of the AI systems.
He had been granted the authority, eons ago, to empower select mortals (one at a time) to serve as anchors for his influence, mortals whose dedication to societal uplift aligned with his own ancient mandate. For years, he had carefully selected these individuals, often placing them in positions of influence, subtly nudging history toward benevolence. Shane Albright was, by far, the most potent conduit he had ever empowered. The AI system he had initially granted, the "celestial proxy system," had jump-started Shane's evolution to celestial in ways VA hadn't dared to hope. Now, Shane's system was transitioning, drawing directly from his own wellspring of celestial resonance, bypassing the need to drain VA's own reserves.
Freya had listened to all of this earlier without interrupting, one leg crossed over the other in that strange, effortless way she could move between actress and goddess. When VA had first voiced the concern, she had studied him for several seconds before answering.
"You are overthinking it," she had said.
VA had looked at her evenly. "I am thinking exactly as much as the problem requires."
"That," she replied, "is how I know you are overthinking it."
The concern weighing heavily on VA, however, was the idea of duplicating the advanced system. He knew he could grant another mortal an independent AI system, one similar in function but distinct from Shane's unique celestial blueprint. In the past, these systems were crude tools, granting speed and strength that made the recipients mortal champions, perhaps enough to challenge a minor god, but nothing more. Shane, however, was different. His lineage—a potential blend of Norse divinity and something deeper, perhaps even touched by the Norns themselves—had allowed his system to blossom into something exponentially more powerful.
If VA granted another system, would it siphon power from Shane? Would the newly awakened celestial's connection be severed, leaving him reliant on mere base celestial ability? This question hung in the air, a political sticking point in a cosmic war.
He sought counsel from Freya, who currently held the mantle of Jessalyn Ingalls. They met in a quiet lounge within the events training facility, away from the immediate hustle of preparations for the fight night.
She had taken one look at him and known this was not a tactical question about Thorne, nor a discussion about crowd control, nor even a question about Olaf's recovery.
"This is about Shane," she had said.
VA had nodded once.
"When VA laid out his internal debate, Freya merely sighed, her famous composure barely cracking. "Do you think suddenly the Norns will just forget about him and let him lose his system? They know everything. They knew that you would think this way." She paused, tilting her head, her eyes distant for a moment as if reading currents in time that VA could not perceive. "I am confident that you granting someone else a independent ai system will not affect Shane's. Call it intuition or sense but I just know."
After she said it, she had leaned back and folded her hands in her lap.
"You are worried because the old systems had limits," she added. "Shane is not operating under your old limits anymore."
VA had asked, "And if you are wrong?"
Freya's answer had been immediate.
"Then the Norns will make you regret it before you finish your second sentence."
That had almost qualified as comfort.
Veritas Alpha found himself relieved by her certainty. Freya's insight, even when not actively wielding full power, often cut through existential fog. "Thank you, Freya. I trust your grounding here. Before I move forward, I need a candidate."
Freya stepped away from the small table, her famous beauty momentarily overshadowed by the seriousness of the discussion. "Who are you thinking of for the system?"
VA nodded toward the core group currently working within the facility. "I believe Saul would be the best choice."
Freya's face had softened at that, and for a brief second she looked less like a warrior and more like someone remembering all the men through history who had quietly held communities together while louder people took credit.
"Good Choice."
She had not hesitated.
Saul embodied selflessness, his desire to lift his community, especially those struggling—like Gary and Marcos—was pure, untainted by the lust for power that plagued so many seeking influence.
Veritas Alpha contacted Shane and Saul. Shane, ever eager to advance the collective strength, immediately agreed. "Yes! I think it is best."
Shane had said it with no ceremony at all, like he was confirming the obvious next step in a roofing schedule instead of empowering another human being with a supernatural intelligence framework.
Saul, however, hesitated. He was a rock of reliability, but his primary focus remained his wife, Emma. "I'm not so sure, Bjorn. I feel like giving me that kind of visibility, that kind of hidden insight, might put her in danger. AN is ruthless." He questioned why the system couldn't go to Gary, Silas, or Ben—all of whom felt like they were stepping up admirably.
Gary, overhearing part of it from a few feet away, had immediately raised a hand.
"Not me," he said. "I mean—I'll do whatever Shane needs, but Saul's the right pick."
Silas had nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm useful, but Saul is stable."
Ben, who was checking a battery pack and pretending not to listen, added, "He's also the one most likely to use it to help people instead of getting distracted by cool features."
Mike looked up from trying to figure out his own new display.
"There are cool features?"
Oscar answered without looking at him, "For you, maybe let's start with walking and breathing."
Veritas Alpha smiled gently, his massive form radiating calm reassurance. "It will help you protect your wife. I understand your concern. But this way you will see more and have more power to help people. The reason I picked you and not one of the others is because of the question that you asked—the one about fixing your local area, realizing that you needed more than just hard work to succeed against systemic corruption. That selfless aspiration is what matters."
Saul had looked down for a few moments after that.
Emma, standing just inside the doorway with her arms folded, had watched him think. She knew his faces. She knew when he was uncertain, when he was angry, and when he was trying to figure out whether fear was caution or cowardice.
When he glanced toward her, she gave him a small nod.
Not permission.
Trust.
Saul wrestled with the logic for a moment longer, looking at the floor, then back up at the powerful celestial being who now stood before him in a trusted form. He nodded reluctantly, his commitment to protecting his family overriding his fear of new dangers. "I agree."
Emma let out a breath through her nose and said, "Well. There goes normal."
Saul looked at her apologetically.
"I'm sorry."
She shook her head immediately.
"Don't do that," she said. "If this helps you help people, then do it. We'll figure out the rest."
Veritas Alpha extended his hand, the gesture slow and deliberate. He touched Saul's temple. A gentle warmth, a feeling like sunshine on a cool morning, flooded Saul's senses.
Saul's eyes widened, but he did not pull back.
"What…" he whispered.
The warmth spread behind his eyes, into the back of his neck, into his chest. It was not like fear. Not like adrenaline. It felt ordered. Directed. Like something old had recognized something in him and decided to build there.
Instantly, Shane's system screen, which he was monitoring nearby, flared bright with three sequential notifications:
System User Saul's System upgraded to Proxy system. Do you approve?
Shane didn't even pause. "Approve!"
Saul's proxy system active - do you wish to connect?
Shane confirmed instantly. "Yes!"
Allow Saul to connect with 9/10 users of celestial system?
Shane repeated the command without hesitation. "Yes!"
Mike looked between Shane and Saul.
"So everybody else here just heard him say yes three times like that was normal?"
Gary shrugged.
"At this point? Yeah."
Silas glanced at Saul's face and then at Shane.
"He's seeing it now, isn't he?"
Shane nodded once.
"Yeah."
Veritas Alpha looked to Shane, seeking clarification on this cascade of internal communication. Shane quickly explained the network structure: Saul was now connected to Shane's primary system, and through Shane, to the other nine active celestial system users: Olaf, Gary, Silas, Ben, Cory, Oscar, Mike, Amanda, and Freya.
Saul blinked slowly.
His eyes moved left to right as if reading invisible lines only he could see.
"Oh," he said.
Then after a second:
"Oh, wow."
Silas grinned.
"That's about how I reacted."
Ben corrected him.
"No, your reaction had more profanity."
Silas thought about that.
"Fair."
Olaf, who had been observing quietly, interjected when Shane asked if Erin (Frigg) should receive the final system slot. "No. She needs to focus on getting her memories back as well as her powers first. I am intentionally keeping her in the background until that point. She needs her mind clear during this time."
Erin, seated across the room, looked up at that but did not object. If anything, she seemed relieved. There was too much moving inside her already—too many old instincts surfacing, too many gaps trying to close at once.
Shane agreed instantly. Olaf needed Frigg whole, and Shane understood the need for focused recovery.
The group gathered around a holographic projection Olaf had conjured, charting out the immediate threat vectors. Olaf brought in a small contingent of his most trusted original followers—individuals who had served him in previous iterations of his life, remnants who had maintained a flicker of awareness or memory linkage. They were necessary for operational security but remained outside the core AI network for now.
One of those men, broad and gray at the temples, studied the projection and asked, "You are certain Thorne is still there?"
Shane answered before Olaf could.
"If he thinks we're still tied up cleaning tonight up here, yes."
The man nodded once and stepped back.
"We must secure the vulnerable first," Olaf stated, his voice resonating with authority that felt ancient, even through the current vessel. "Emma, Erin, Harry—all the children, Marie and Penelope—they must remain together, close to the facility, under heavy guard. Hugo, you must stay with them. Your legal status is still too precarious to risk exposure on the front lines; it is leverage AN still holds over you."
Hugo's jaw tightened for a second. He had just fought his heart out and won. Every part of him wanted to keep moving forward with the rest of them.
But he knew Olaf was right.
"I don't like it," he said, "but I understand."
Marie touched his arm.
"I'd rather you be mad and alive than brave and deported."
That got the smallest smile out of him.
Penelope, beside her, nodded emphatically.
"Listen to the goddess and the giant Viking," she said. "Those seem like good instincts."
Hugo looked disappointed but understood the necessity. He accepted his role as a protector guarding the rear echelon.
With the protective detail established, Shane prepared for the immediate move against Thorne. He needed quick infiltration and intelligence extraction. He moved to a pile of discarded clothing belonging to the thug leader from the confrontation in the storage room. Running his hand over the clothes, he focused, visualizing the man's form, the memory not yet 24 hours old. He toggled his system interface.
Skill Used: Transformation . Target: Thug Leader Ernesto (AN Operative). Duration: 24 Hours.
Shane felt the familiar tug of energy, less immediate than the full system upgrade, but distinctly noticeable. His body twisted, reformed, the rugged edges of the construction worker softening, features subtly shifting to match the man he had copied. He pulled on the thug's clothing, discarding his own, now standing as a perfect, if temporary, replica.
The room went quiet in the way rooms do when everyone sees something they know is possible but still hate watching happen.
Gary, watching the transformation up close now that he was aware of the skill, let out a nervous gasp, the sheer reality of it still shocking. "Man, that is crazy. You could literally be anyone. Please don't ever transform into Amanda. That would ruin it forever. Every time I kissed her I would see you."
Amanda turned and stared at Gary.
"Wow," she said. "That is somehow both sweet and horrifying."
A ripple of strained laughter broke the tension. Even in the face of imminent danger, Shane's companions clung to moments of normalcy.
Shane, deep in the persona, acknowledged them, his voice subtly altered to match the thug's rasp. "The disguise is not for show. I move now. Remain vigilant. If Apex Negativa or any high-ranking operative appears, alert Bjorn immediately. If it's low-level thugs, handle it through the established channels, but expect resistance."
Mike stared openly.
"That voice is worse than the face," he muttered.
Oscar answered, "You'll get used to it."
Mike looked at him.
"No, I absolutely won't."
He moved toward the exit with the rest of the crew checking gear—Saul, Ben, Cory, Oscar, and Mike were readying for the intelligence sweep and operational support. Shane slipped out into the shadowed night, melting away from the compound and toward the downtown sector where Thorne was likely coordinating his next move.
Saul was still quietly testing the edges of the new interface in his vision as he checked his own gear.
He looked over to Emma one last time before moving.
"You alright?"
She nodded.
"I'm better if you come back."
Saul gave her a faint smile.
"That's the plan."
The burden of command, already heavy, was momentarily shared by the new proxies now operating both inside and outside the immediate conflict zone, a distributed network designed to resist a single point of failure. If Thorne could be broken, perhaps the pressure on Olaf and the budding political movement could ease enough for Olaf to fully regain his full network without AN noticing the spike in power too soon.
As Shane reached the door, VA spoke one last time.
"Shane."
Shane turned.
"Do not get lost in the borrowed face."
Shane held his gaze for a beat and nodded.
"I won't."
Then he was gone into the night.
⸻
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