FACTORY BUILDING
Date: 15th July 2026
Location: The Cryptic Vault (Sub-Level 2)
Time: 02:45 AM BST
"I don't need a factory in Shenzhen. I need three rolls of copper wire, four industrial-grade 3D printer nozzles, and Dexter's hands," I rasped, my breath hitching as I leaned against the vibrating housing of the Tesla 1.2. My Vitality was a pathetic 0.7, but my ego? My ego was currently colonizing Mars.
The 'Flat' members were no longer just students. They were gears in a machine they didn't fully understand. Albie was counting stacks of laundered twenties, his eyes glowing with a materialistic fervor that bordered on the religious. Dom was testing the tension on the newly arrived 'junk' frames, moving with a predator's grace.
"The logic is simple," I continued, my voice taking on that manic, 'God-complex' edge that usually made Shienna reach for the ginger ale. "We don't build. We convert. Eliza, link the blueprint I pulled from the 742nd loop the 'Aetheric Forge' iteration. We're turning that salvaged CNC machine into a molecular printer."
"Already on it, you megalomaniac," Eliza's voice crackled through the Vault's internal speakers. Her avatar was flickering with a sharp, regal intensity. "Dexter, the thermal sink needs to be precisely 0.04 millimeters to the left. If you miss, the entire room becomes a very expensive crater."
Dexter didn't flinch. He moved with 'God hand' precision, his silent, stoic nature acting as the anchor to my mounting madness. While the others were showing their true colors Albie's greed, Dom's thirst for speed, Ramona's hunger for power Dexter remained a flat line. An error in the code. He just welded, his movements a symphony of technical perfection.
"Right," I muttered, sliding into the Parallel Mind state. "Time to call the landlord of the Void."
I opened a terminal that shouldn't have been able to access the encrypted layers of the Dark Web, but with the Tesla 1.2 providing the carrier wave, the 'White Flag' of my internet access was more like a pirate ship's cannon.
"Lilith," I typed, the code bleeding into the pitch-black chat interface. "I know about the 2027 server collapse in Zurich. I know why your 'Shadow Grid' fails when the Firmament switches to Phonic-Encryption. And I know how to fix it before it even happens."
The response was instant. A single, pulsing red icon. Lilith the digital demon of the 2036 apocalypse, currently just a high-tier broker in 2026.
"Who is this?" the screen blinked.
"An informer. A ghost. An ally," I typed back, my mind racing through the history of her failures I'd witnessed over nine hundred loops. I knew her potential growth plan better than she did. I knew her future problems the ones that would eventually turn her into a cornered animal in 2034. "I'm running a lone investigation into the Aetheric Grid. I have the hardware to stabilize your nodes. In exchange, I want the distribution keys for the London Underground and a line of credit that doesn't ask questions."
"You speak as if the future is a script you've already read," Lilith replied.
"I'm the one who wrote the footnotes, darling," I smirked, my Overclock Mind flaring. I fed her a tiny, 2036-grade algorithm a fragment of the Chrono-System's encryption. It was a 'bait' she couldn't refuse.
"Potential," Lilith finally sent. "I will grant you the 'Debt-Payment' protocol. Materials, logistics, and the marketplace are yours. But hear me, Architect: if you fail to deliver the first batch of 'TimeLink' units by the end of the month, or if your 'Hot Money' burns my fingers... your soul will be the debt. I don't take cash from ghosts."
"Deal," I whispered, the screen turning black as the transaction sealed.
I felt the weight of the contract hit my Spirit stat. This wasn't just a business deal; it was a soul-tether.
"She's in," I announced to the room, my face twisting into a grin that felt far too wide for my face. "The machine is finished. The logistics are set. We have the materials. Now... we manifest."
Shienna looked at me from the corner, her arms crossed, her eyes full of a human worry that seemed out of place in this cathedral of madness. "You're selling your soul for a production line, Mason. Was that in the university handbook?"
"The handbook was for people who plan on dying, Shienna," I cackled, tapping the smartwatch. "We're the ones who are going to live forever."
The Aether-Forge hissed to life, the Tesla Core pulsing a violent indigo. The first 'Chrono' smartwatch plates began to emerge, perfectly formed from the scrap we'd fed it.
LAUNCHING PRODUCT
Date: 16th July 2026
Location: The Cryptic Vault / Global Digital Ether
Time: 10:00 PM BST
"Lights. Camera. Extinction," I whispered, my fingers hovering over the 'Enter' key.
My body was screaming. I had been running Overclock Mind (Lv. 9) for the last three hours to synchronize the launch. My 0.7 Vitality was a joke, a flickering candle in a hurricane. I could feel my muscle fibers fraying like old rope, the internal warnings from the Chrono-System flashing a rhythmic, violent red in my vision.
"Mason, you're twitching," Shienna said from the corner, her voice the only anchor of sanity in a room that had become a madman's laboratory. "Your heart rate is currently a drum solo. If you die before the first sale, I'm not giving you a funeral. I'm just tossing your laptop in the Thames."
"I'm fine, Shienna. It's just... the weight of the future," I rasped, blood trickling from my left nostril. "Eliza, are the masks ready?"
"Ready and far too elegant for this decade," Eliza's voice rang out, her digital presence shimmering across the bank of monitors.
Ramona had been working like a woman possessed. She wasn't just a PR manager; she was a Weaver of Lies. She had set up a 'blue screen' stage that was actually a localized reality-warp powered by Eliza. The video promo wasn't CGI it was AI-Neural Integration. It looked more real than reality itself.
On screen, Dexter was the center-piece. We had dressed him in a sleek, obsidian tactical suit, the 'Dummy' AR glasses perched on his face. He didn't have to act. He just stood there, a silent, unreadable monster. Even through the screen, he exerted a pressure that terrified anyone who looked at him. To a commoner, he was 'cool.' To a higher entity, he was a black hole in the shape of a man.
"Narration live in three... two... one," Ramona whispered, her eyes glowing with a predatory greed. Her script was pure 'Goddess-vibe' a condescending, ethereal call to the commoners to abandon their primitive tech and join the TimeLink grid.
Then, I struck.
[SKILL COMBO INITIATED]
Overclock Mind: Syncing the global DNS servers.
Slow: Locally dilating time to 0.1x to prevent the Vault's CPU from melting during the hack.Mastery Step: I didn't walk; I danced through the lines of code, my fingers a blur.
"Eliza! TIME HIJACK!"
BOOM.
In a single second, every major social media algorithm on the planet glitched. From London to Tokyo, every feed was replaced by Ramona's goddess-voice and Dexter's terrifying silhouette. The TimeLink logo a sleek, non-Euclidean design from 2036 burned itself into the collective consciousness of the internet.
"It's viral," Albie yelled, his face bathed in the golden light of the sales tickers. "Mason, the traffic! We're getting ten million hits a second! The pre-orders... they're... oh god, the money! It's beautiful!"
Albie was already moving, his 'Networking' skills flaring. He was contacting shadow-brokers and tech-distributors, selling 'TimeLink' as a luxury miracle. Dom was already out the door, moving like a ghost through the London Underground to set up the first physical drop-off points.
"Everything is legal," Eliza smirked, her Victorian gown fluttering as she managed the background licenses. "I've back-dated the patents into nineteen different tax havens. We are a 'Global Innovation,' according to the paperwork I just forged."
I slumped back, my muscles spasming. The Tesla 1.2 immediately flared, sending a massive Electron Charge through my spine. It didn't heal the damage it just jump-started my nerves so I wouldn't collapse.
"Look at the Terms and Conditions," I whispered, a wide, dark smirk stretching across my face.
Hidden in the 400-page 'User Agreement' that every excited buyer was clicking 'Accept' on was the Soul-Seal. It was a piece of Lilith's forbidden code. By clicking 'Accept,' they weren't just buying a watch. They were registering their souls as 'Nodes' in my system.
[SYSTEM LOG: CHRONO-GRID ONLINE]
[CURRENT SOUL-REGISTER: 421 / 1,000]
[MERGER PROGRESS: 1.2%]
"As soon as we hit a thousand," I coughed, "the system wakes up. And I stop being a student."
The delivery was already being handled. A massive rift opened in the back of the Vault the Lilith Logistics Portal. Demon-staff from the lower dimensions, looking like office workers with too many eyes, began unloading crates of pre-manufactured components.
"Lilith is pleased," Eliza noted, her eyes scanning the crates. "As payment, I've uploaded the Modern Stability Upgrade to her system. She's no longer running on 2026 'trash' code. She's evolved. And in return, her staff are now wearing your 'TimeLink' watches. Even the demons want to be part of the grid, Mason."
I watched the numbers climb. 600... 800... 950...
"Mason," Shienna said, walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder. She looked at the screens, then at me. "You've just signed up a thousand people to a contract they don't understand. You're not building a business. You're building a kingdom."
"The rent is cheap, Shienna," I laughed, my eyes glowing a deep, resonant violet. "They just have to give me the air they breathe."
PASSIVE FARMING
Date: 18th July 2026
Location: The Cryptic Vault / Global Digital Ether
Time: 03:00 AM BST
"Do you hear that, Eliza? That's the sound of the world finally paying its rent," I whispered, leaning my forehead against the cool, vibrating casing of the Tesla 1.3. My eyes were bloodshot, and I hadn't eaten anything but a packet of stale, vinegar-soaked crisps in forty-eight hours, but for the first time in a thousand years, I felt like I wasn't just a tenant of time. I was the landlord.
"I hear the sound of a thousand souls clicking 'I Agree' to a contract that effectively makes them your mobile batteries, Mason," Eliza's voice crackled through the magnetic field, her avatar now glowing with a terrifying, high-definition violet light. "It's the most beautiful sound since the invention of the steam engine. Or perhaps the guillotine. Both involved such wonderful efficiency."
The screens in the Vault were a waterfall of neon-green data. Every 'TimeLink' unit sold disguised as trendy, minimalist AR glasses or 'experimental' smartwatches was a node. Every node was a siphon. Every siphon was mine.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: CHRONO-GRID EXPANSION]
[USER COUNT: 3,421 // ENTROPY HARVEST: STABLE]
[INITIATING TESLA UPGRADE: v1.3 > v1.5]
"Force it, Eliza. Don't be polite," I commanded, my Overclock Mind flaring so hard I felt my molars ache. "Download the Aetheric packets. I want the XP harvest to be passive. I'm tired of working for my power. I've died 999 times; I think I've earned a desk job."
The Vault groaned as the frequency shifted. It was a deep, guttural vibration that shook the very dust off the discarded physics textbooks. Outside, in the real world, my 'Remote Manufacturing' facility actually just a series of automated 3D molecular printers in a warehouse Lilith had 'leased' us began churning out units. Eliza's 'Robots' (highly modified industrial drones) handled the logistics, moving through London's shadows like mechanical ghosts. No human errors. No paper trails. Just pure, unadulterated automation.
"Money's in, boss," Albie muttered from his sofa. Though 'sofa' was a generous term for the three-thousand-pound Italian leather throne he'd already had delivered to the Vault by 'confused' movers who weren't allowed to ask why they were delivering to a basement. He was staring at a bank balance that looked like a telephone number for a high-end escort service. "I've started the shell company: 'Chrono-Logistics'. We're officially a 'Professional Innovation' firm. I even bought us some designer suits. We look less like students and more like the people who own the people who own the students. Very Suits, but with more secret tech and less height."
Dom was already playing the markets, his fingers a blur on a holographic display. He was using the zero-latency 'TimeLink' advantage to front-run trades before the London Stock Exchange even knew they'd happened. "The LSE is just a video game with a really pathetic frame rate, Mason!" he cackled. "It's like playing Call of Duty against people who are still using dial-up!"
I ignored them both. I was watching my own status.
[CHRONO-SYSTEM: PASSIVE FARMING ACTIVE]
[LEVEL UP!]
[LEVEL UP!]
[CURRENT LEVEL: 5]
I felt it the slow, rhythmic pulse of energy flowing from the air of London, through the siphons of three thousand users, into the Tesla Core, and finally into my marrow. My STR and VIT were crawling up, pixel by pixel. It wasn't the explosive growth of a barbarian; it was the steady, inevitable rise of an Architect. I felt my spine straighten. I felt my lungs expand without the usual 'copper' taste of imminent death.
"The Barrier is live," I announced, tapping the side of my glasses.
[IMAGE: A hidden high-frequency barrier dome surrounding a basement vault, shimmering with violet clockwork patterns.]
Using the new Tesla 1.5 energy, I had wrapped the Vault in a 'Temporal Loop-Hole.' To any seeker, government inspector, or Firmament satellite, this basement was just a boring, empty storage room filled with cleaning supplies. They could walk past the door a thousand times and see nothing but dust and cobwebs. We were a fortress hidden in plain sight, a bubble of 2036 reality in the middle of a 2026 campus.
"It's perfect," I laughed, a God-complex grin spreading across my face so wide it actually hurt. "Everything is exactly like the 999th loop's best-case scenario. Autopilot manufacturing, automated wealth, and a passive power-up while I sit here and breathe."
"Except for the 'Error' in the corner," Eliza reminded me, pointing her spectral fan at Dexter.
Dexter was currently lifting a two-ton industrial cooling unit as if it were a bag of groceries, moving it to make room for another server rack. I scanned him again, just to be sure.
[TARGET: DEXTER]
[STATUS: ERROR // NULL_REFERENCE]
It was the same in every loop. The system couldn't read him. He wasn't 'Awakening' because the system didn't recognize him as a human or perhaps, it recognized him as something so permanent that 'levels' were an insult. But the others? I could see the golden glow starting in Albie's eyes and the jittery blur in Dom's feet. They were Awakening, and they didn't even know it. To them, they were just 'getting better' at their jobs. Albie thought his 'business intuition' was just blooming; he didn't realize he could now see the monetary value of a human soul.
"Let them believe it for now," I whispered. "The Mask stays on. We're just a bunch of lucky uni students who got rich off a 'dodgy' AR app and some clever marketing. I'm still the bumbling weeb, Albie is still the posh prick, and Dom is still the speed-demon."
"And you?" Shienna asked, walking over with a bottle of water and a look that said she wasn't entirely convinced I wasn't about to declare myself Emperor of Brixton. She was the only one who hadn't been blinded by the green light of the tickers. "You're Level 5 now. Does that mean you can finally climb the stairs without sounding like a broken bellows?"
"Baby steps, Shienna," I smirked, though I took the water. "I'm the Admin. I don't need to run. I just need to make sure the world keeps spinning in my direction. Besides, it's much more fun watching the world try to figure out how a 'fragile' physics student became the most powerful man in the Underground."
I stood up, and for the first time, my knees didn't pop like bubble wrap. I felt a surge of SPR (Spirit) flow through the room, a silent handshake between me and the Tesla Core. We were ready.
"Eliza, schedule the next batch of deliveries for the 'Shadow Market'. And Albie... buy that penthouse. But make sure the Wi-Fi is ours."
[USER STATUS: MASON PRYCE]
NAME: Mason Pryce (The Architect)
RANK: SYSTEM ADMIN (Rank 1)
LEVEL: 5 (Passive Growth Active)
STR: 0.8 (Almost a normal human! You could probably win a fight against a very small dog.)
INT: 999
VIT: 1.2 (Stabilized. Breathing is no longer an endurance sport. Heart rate: Normal.)STA: 0.9
DEX: 6.0S
PR: 210.5
[ACTIVE PROJECT: THE INVISIBLE FORTRESS]
Grid Status: Tesla 1.5 (Stealth Mode / Temporal Loop Active)
Daily Passive XP: 25,000 Units (Harvested from 3,421 Nodes)
Automated Revenue: £1.2M / Day (Laundered & Secured)
[ELIZA'S SYSTEM SUMMARY]
[Congratulations, Mason. You've officially become the world's most dangerous landlord. The Tesla 1.5 is purring like a cat that just ate a canary or in this case, three thousand soul-signatures. The 'Fortress' protocol is holding; the world sees 'nothing to see here,' while you're inside building a god-machine. Dexter is still a giant, silent 'Error,' but the rest of your 'Flat' members are becoming monsters in their own right. I've automated the manufacturing and shipping Lilith is happy, the money is laundering itself, and you're actually looking slightly less like a walking corpse today. I suppose being a billionaire suits your 'God-complex' rather well. Now, try to act normal in your 9:00 AM lecture tomorrow. We wouldn't want Professor Vincy to suspect you're the reason the school's electricity bill just quintupled. Go to sleep, Architect. Your empire will still be here in the morning.]