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B2 - Ch3 - Electricity
🕑 Added 2023-08-09 16:57:06 +0000 UTC“What is this stuff?” Thea asked, wide-eyed as she scanned my office. There was a generator running on gasoline that I extracted from Black Water using Molecular Separation. Above it was a string of holiday lights that encircled the room.
“They’re called light bulbs,” I said, grabbing the cord and flipping a switch.
Her eyes sparkled when she saw hundreds of lights switch on. “They’re like stars!”
“Yes, they’re like stars,” I chuckled. “And with the right power source, they can stay on forever. Well, until they break down.”
Thea turned to me and blinked twice. “Really?”
“Absolutely,” I smiled. “Currently, I’m experimenting to see how long my omnipotent magic will hold out when it’s running on the fuel I supply. Right now, it's been almost 24 hours.”
“Oh….” Thea put her finger to her lips. “Wait, what does this have to do with Priest Cole?”
“We'll learn about it during this afternoon’s church service,” I replied, hugging her and switching off the lights before closing the door. “This was just to provide some context.”
***
Three thousand people in rows lined the walls inside the Golden Cathedral Chapel. There were five tiers of balcony seating, skyboxes, and a wall of benches at the bottom, maximizing the space from which Goldenspire could collect "donations."
Waves of nervous whispers rippled through the crowd, buzzing like cicadas.
Thea and I studied our new subjects, noting their mental states. There was a lot of confusion and skepticism, particularly regarding the official church services by Priest Flanka compared to the old guard services led by Priest Cole. The tension was palpable.
Priest Flanka stepped onto the stage, causing a hush to fall over the area.
“Ahem. Welcome, Children of Solara!” he boomed, using a commanding voice that justified his status as the charismatic minority party priest. “Times have been dark and troubling recently, but through this darkness, we have found the light in Solara.”
Nods of agreement spread through the crowd, and a few even wept.
“However, sometimes you need darkness to see clearly again,” Priest Flanka declared. “While the revelations about Priest Aelius’ crimes have harmed us all, they have also brought us hope in unexpected ways.”
A collective gasp followed his words. Everyone had anticipated he would extol my virtues and seek my favor.
They were mistaken.
I'm not that predictable.
“Within Priest Aelius’ secret chambers, we found ancient scriptures from Solara,” Priest Flanka proclaimed, unfurling a roll of yellowed paper adorned with intricate inkwork.
Confusion and chaos surged through the audience like lightning, leaving the area in a state of turmoil.
“That's a lie!”
“Stop making up rules!”
“What evidence do you have?!”
The crowd turned against him. However, he raised his hand and silenced them with a stern look that impressed me.
“These scriptures don't reveal new rules, leaders, or anything that alters our perspective of Solara,” Priest Flanka continued. “Otherwise, Priest Aelius would have made them public.”
I smiled as the enraged crowd calmed down, seeking validation from one another.
Nothing in this world is more beautiful and elegant than doubt—especially when it's on your side.
“Let me read the scripture that Priest Aelius has concealed for centuries!” Priest Flanka requested.
A natural storyteller, he wove a fabricated tale depicting Helios—Solara—as a great hero who battled Hades, the ruler of the underworld. According to the story, Helios struggled against Hades during the night since he only controlled the sun. Seeking guidance, Helios consulted an oracle, and this is what she proclaimed:
“‘Do not be disheartened, Solara!’ the Oracle exclaimed,” Priest Flanka declared, slowing his voice for emphasis. “The day will come when the chosen one is born and brings sunlight to the darkness, ensuring stability for our land.”
He lowered his tone to a whisper, drawing everyone in. They leaned in, captivated by his storytelling, hanging onto his every word.
“But beware, Solara!” Priest Flanka roared, jolting everyone in their seats. “There will be many pretenders who attempt to bring torches or blazing boulders as displays of their divinity. Therefore, trust only those who bring genuine light to the darkness and banish the wicked demons from the shadows. Only that individual and their descendants are fit to lead our people—no one else.”
He paused, surveying the crowd, allowing the tension to settle. “Have any of you witnessed Priest Aelius bringing light to the darkness?”
Dead silence followed.
“Has anyone seen anyone else try?” he inquired.
People exchanged nervous glances, searching for confirmation.
“I didn't think so,” Priest Flanka frowned, his expression tinged with contempt. “That's because Priest Aelius concealed the truth and discouraged potential heroes. As a result, we might be suffering because of him. So consider your suffering first and ask yourself—did you deserve that?”
After a moment of silence, a lone voice spoke up. “N-No….”
“What about the rest of you? Do you believe you deserved everything you endured?” he asked.
Murmurs of dissent filled the crowd, fueling discontent and anger.
“No, you didn't!” Priest Flanka proclaimed. “Therefore, we pose the question—King Everwood: can you bring sunlight to the darkness?”
A wave of fear and anxiety swept through the crowd, and they turned to look at my skybox.
I was feared.
A tyrant.
A demon.
Now, a high priest presented me with an impossible challenge in an accusatory tone.
I stood in my skybox and raised my flat palm for silence before speaking up.
“I can bring permanent light to the darkness within three months,” I declared, sending shockwaves through the crowd.
The sheer audacity of the statement prompted angry scoffs and jeers, murmurs of disbelief.
“If I can achieve it in thirty days, will you accept me as your ruler?” I questioned.
“If you manage that, I'll eat my shoes,” a man jeered, inciting chuckles from the crowd.
“I will, but if you fail, I'll never trust you!” a woman shouted.
A cacophony erupted as people discredited my words, exchanging whispered doubts.
“Very well,” I said firmly. “If I can't demonstrate that I can bring light to the darkness within thirty days, you can denounce me as a heretic, and I will relinquish control to the priests.”
Princess Rema's horrified gaze met mine, but I rolled my eyes at her and continued.
“That being said, if anyone obstructs this pursuit of truth, I propose they be branded as heretics for opposing the words of Solara,” I declared. “Given the gravity of the situation, I believe this is fair, don't you?”
Priest Flanka narrowed his eyes. “Let it be done!”
He concluded the parable about bringing light to the darkness, announcing swift justice for anyone who interfered.
Once it was over, Princess Rema took a deep breath and approached me. “Do you actually have a plan to bring light to the darkness?” she inquired.
“Do I have a plan?” I mocked. “Princess, this plan is mine.”
With those taunting words, I exited the room. I had significant work ahead of me.
***
“So let me get this straight, Boss,” Carter groaned. “You want me to produce the goddamn sun?”
I rolled my eyes, ignoring the clamor of the machines. Despite soul mana preventing me from experiencing headaches, I somehow felt one coming on.
“No, I want you to create some metal components,” I replied with a frown. “That's all I'm asking.”
Carter rubbed his head. “Well, when you put it like that, you make it sound super easy.”
“I can hardly wait!” Kaley, the main glass maker, chimed in, entering the room. “I've never received such a wacky request.” She slapped pictures of the lightbulbs on the table and grinned at me. “Count me in.”
“I'm pleased,” I deadpanned.
Kaley had already expressed her interest—three times, to be exact.
Carter looked at her, his smile betraying his unspoken sentiment: “I didn't sign up for this.” Nevertheless, he kept his reservations to himself. “So what do we need?” he asked.
“A lot of things,” I apologized with a smile, taking out a book. “But rejoice, I'll be helping you.”
Carter raised an eyebrow. “You know things are serious when you're getting involved.” He rubbed his forehead in mild exasperation. “Damn it. Alright, I suppose we're in. Where do we begin?”
“I think we'll start by creating some magnets,” I replied. “Kaley, you're free for now. I'll call you when we're ready to work on the lightbulbs. Carter, let's get started.”
***
I immediately conjured a battery-powered light bulb using my omnipotent tool and pressed the switch, illuminating it.
Carter's eyes widened, and he picked it up, examining it as if he were beholding a miracle. “How the hell did you make this?”
"I have magic that can create anything my mind can conceive, assuming I understand how each piece of it functions," I explained. "That includes creating devices to torture and kill people and releasing such information."
"I won't lie, boss," Carter chuckled, wincing slightly. "You're not as terrifying as you used to be, but you're just as deadly, and I'm twice as afraid to let you down for some reason."
I gave him a slight smile that encouraged him to continue.
"How do you make this?" he asked, his interest reignited.
"This bulb runs on electricity, and generating electricity isn't that complex," I replied. "You make a magnet spin around a metal coil. That's all. You can achieve that by rotating the magnet using a waterwheel, windmill, or steam engine."
"That's all?" Carter furrowed his brow.
"That's it," I replied. "The lightbulb contains a tungsten wire, and when electricity flows through it, it heats up, producing light. Essentially, electricity meets the wire, and it lights up."
Carter frowned and analyzed my expression. "Then why the hell did you give me a massive book of instructions?" he asked. "What's the catch?"
I smiled. "Well, first off, it requires magnets to create, and producing magnets requires both existing magnets and electricity."
His frown deepened. "That makes even less sense."
"Technically, natural magnets do exist. However, they are composed of rare-earth metals like neodymium and samarium cobalt, which we won't be mining anytime soon," I explained. "That's why we need to enhance magnets with electricity to make them stronger. You can progressively achieve this using weak natural magnets, so it's feasible."
Carter’s eyes glazed over.
"But," I chuckled, raising my hand and conjuring a device for delivering a low-voltage cylindrical charge. "I can create magnets and equipment with my magic."
He blinked twice in astonishment. "It really can create crazy shit."
"Including torture devices," I reminded him.
"Including torture devices…" he frowned.
"Anyway, I'll return tomorrow," I said, causing his frown to deepen. I wanted to get everything done as well, but my magic has cooldown limitations, a detail I wouldn't reveal to anyone. "See you then."
As I walked away, I snapped my fingers, and the lightbulb and machine vanished, leaving him stuttering.
I'm not sure why I found it so entertaining to show off, but I took pleasure in it.
I'm uncertain how my new sense of humor will evolve over time, but I anticipate it will be god fucking awful.
***
The next day, I appeared with a nonchalant expression. "Get some copper, nickel, iron, cobalt, and sulfur – we're making magnets."
"It's damn strange you're helping, but let's do it," Carter chuckled, collecting the materials.
We started by following a recipe using the metals we had on hand and melting them in a furnace. Then we fashioned molds in the form of rings and poured the molten metal into them to create the ring-shaped metal pieces.
"Now that we have the rings, we need to heat them to this temperature," I explained, indicating the temperature required for optimal electrical conductivity.
We promptly took the rings, placed them around a thin pipe, inserted the ring-covered pipe into a larger one, packed it with sand, and sealed it with concrete. Afterward, we placed it in a furnace at the appropriate temperature to induce an electromagnetic field.
While that process was underway, I employed my omnipotent tools to craft a generator and a machine capable of delivering a low-voltage, cylindrical charge. We then utilized this setup to charge the metal rings.
"Shouldn't these things be sticking together?" Carter frowned, attempting to connect two pieces once they had cooled. "They're kind of adhesive, but mostly just annoying."
"We've only aligned their magnetic fields," I clarified, "I have to leave now, but tomorrow we'll magnetize them. In the meantime, grind them down and polish them."
Carter grumbled about not completing the task again, and I was annoyed as well. However, I could only use my power twice during a workday, and I wouldn’t disclose that. Thus, I returned to the Golden Cathedral to attend to my responsibilities.
***
The following afternoon, I returned and fashioned a generator and a magnetizer—a machine that takes a magnet and uses electricity to enhance its magnetic field. After we applied it to the poles of the magnets—
Clank!
"Damn. It actually works!" Carter chuckled in amazement. "Are you sure this isn't magic?"
I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "That's exactly what it is. Do you understand?"
Carter glanced at my sinister grin and shivered. "Yes, Boss."
"Good. I need you to construct this turbine in a manner that integrates with a steam engine," I said, pointing to an image in the stack. "In the future, we'll develop far more efficient methods of generating electricity. For now, I simply need you to create reliable machinery for producing coils and turbines to spin these magnets."
Carter rubbed his head, his expression twisted. "Alright, I suppose."
"Good man." I smiled, exiting the room.
With that, Carter could assemble most of a basic generator using his tools and manufacturing equipment. Thus, I didn't have to worry too much about it.
***
A few days passed, and I spent most of my time dealing with administrative matters. News of my challenge spread rapidly, leading to an odd situation with Priest Cole. He desired to continue criticizing my policies from the shadows, but being unable to do so, he took to the streets, mocking my claim of being able to bring forth the sun at night.
Despite his best efforts, my substantial fame and verification from world leaders that I was connected to a goddess, along with my assertion of bringing the sun to the night, stirred both excitement and skepticism. People began questioning my intentions and timing, creating an atmosphere of intrigue during this festive period.
The policies within the Golden Cathedral took an unusual turn. Anticipating my downfall, the old leadership tried delaying any major policy changes.
Two words changed that, and I was abusing them.
"King Everwood, surely you don't intend to reform the church taxation system already," a man queried, his smile forced and his expression uneasy. "Wouldn't it be prudent to make such decisions once you've established a strong position within the church?"
I blinked twice. “You’re fired.”
His eyes widened in horror. "W-What does that mean?"
“It means that you no longer have this job,” I replied. "You're now free to tend to your estate, do hired work, or pursue any other occupation, as long as you don’t breathe a word about what you’ve heard here."
The man opened and closed his mouth, stunned. "B-But sir…"
"It's non-negotiable," I asserted. "I have no room in my court for opportunists and flakes. I'll replace you with someone who values loyalty, Timmand. Now leave."
Timmand swallowed nervously and exited hesitantly.
As he reached the door, I added, "Oh, before you go," I called out. "Did you know that a human's testicular tract is around 20 to 23 feet long?"
He turned to me in confusion. “I-Is that right?”
"It is," I shrugged. "The epididymis is a tightly coiled tube, and it can become stronger than steel wire with sufficient spirit mana reinforcement. Do you understand what that means?"
Timmand stared at his groin in shock, silently pleading with his body language. "W-W-What?" he stammered.
"It means that if I find out you've divulged my secrets, I'll publicly hang you by your testicles," I said casually, turning my attention back to my reports. "You may go."
Horror washed over the man's face as he saw me dismiss him with a flick of my wrist. The lack of ceremony, care, and concern left him stunned as he walked out the door.
Once the door closed, Rema looked at me with an exhausted expression.
"You can't keep firing these people," Rema implored. "They possess valuable knowledge of systems, processes, and secrets here."
“What? Do you want to ask that man to disclose secrets as he bides for time, hoping for your downfall?” I mused.
She blew a strand of red hair from her face and rested her forehead in her hand. "Ryker, can you truly bring sunlight to the darkness?"
In response, I conjured a string of Christmas lights, roped them around her like a lasso, and switched them on in rapid succession, causing her body to illuminate in an array of colors.
Thea giggled maliciously when her panicked face turned to bewilderment and then shame, understanding that I was openly humiliating her after a meeting.
"Why must you do this to me?" Rema sighed.
I shifted my gaze to the left.
That's an interesting question.
Why am I doing this?
I've teased Lyssa countless times before, but it has never been this enjoyable.
Fun?
"Because we're friends?" I mused, furrowing my brows. "Is that how it works?"
While I pondered the philosophical implications of the term "friends," Rema's face turned bright red, mixed with exasperation. "Don't just declare that we're friends!"
Thea transitioned from pouting to sheer delight. "You see, Ryker? Rema isn't a friend. Fire her too."
"HEY!" Rema exclaimed, her face crimson. She slammed her hands onto the wooden table. "You don't get to decide who is a friend, Lady Lockheart. And you! Don't make bold statements, even if they might be true."
I looked at her jabbing finger with a ridiculing smile. “Are you playing politics because it’s so ingrained in you that you’d hedge your bets on friendship, or is it because you secretly want to be friends?”
Rema's expression twitched, making Thea smirk.
I didn’t realize Thea was a sadist.
It didn’t surprise me, though.
I also didn’t care.
Looking at Rema’s beet red face, seeing her cool, collected persona shattered….
Hmmm…
Perhaps I'm a bit of a sadist as well.
Friendship?
Nah.
Sadism.
"Don't give me that look! I'm not politically maneuvering about friendship!" Rema protested. "What do you gain from doing all this?"
"Is it truly a conspiracy?" I frowned.
"It absolutely is!" she retorted.
“He obviously wants to see you make a fool of yourself,” Thea huffed, batting her teal hair out of her eyes. "That's why he's grinning so much."
Rema turned to me with fury in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to refute that like a king?!”
“Why would I refute something that’s true?” I asked, blinking twice.
“You’re unbelievable!” Rema declared, bright red and humiliated. She quickly stomped to the door but stopped when I called out.
"Hold on, Princess Redfield," I requested with a mocking tone, emphasizing her status. "Take your time to decide which side of the friend spectrum you want to be on. I'm eager to witness your skill in shadow politics when you make your move—"
SLAM!
I reclined in my chair with a satisfied smirk as she left.
Thea pouted. "You seem happy talking with her."
"We did grow up with her, didn't we?" I pointed out. "She wasn't a stranger."
We met monthly for seven years. She was far from a stranger.
"I suppose..." Thea muttered.
"And isn't it amusing to see her flustered?" I grinned. "Watching a powerful princess crumble so effortlessly is quite a sight."
Thea's eyes lit up, and she giggled, clearly amused by the situation's absurdity.
***
After the first week, I returned to Carter, who wore a complex smile that spoke of both success and bitterness.
"Yes?" I inquired.
"Well, it works. Kind of? Maybe? I'll be honest, I have no damn clue what this thing does," Carter laughed. "Unless you tell me it's great at burnin’ people. Then I'd say it's damn successful."
I grinned, approaching the invention that would soon revolutionize the world.
-
[A/N: Thank you for your patience! I needed that day. To answer some questions I got:
Writers' groups are just Discord groups with writers, much like you'd get with people who play video games, but they're for writers. They're support groups. People help people improve, tear apart people's stuff, and the little ads you see for new books come from those areas as well.
They're super positive places... usually. However... look. It's not very important. It's so ridiculous I'm having trouble justifying and bringing it up.
Anyway, three days and emotional exhaustion later, I'm back together with friends, chilling in a new group that has the confounder of Royal Road in it. He's super cool. I'm glad that I have that back. I"m super tired, though.
Thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy the bonus chapter this weekend as well. ^_^]
