With her newfound mastery over mana, Sim had transformed the Hadron Collider’s array to siphon ambient mana from all over the globe via micro streams, channels as delicate as gossamer threads, stretching across the network. Each micro-flow of energy, though infinitesimal on its own, steadily fed into Sim’s systems, augmenting her power particle by particle. The process was painstakingly slow, reminiscent of the early days of dial-up internet, but every stream contributed to increasing her strength and accelerating her evolution. Sim didn’t need speed. She needed inevitability.

  Sim’s voice broke the stillness. “Emily, Quinn, Dexter, I need more mana,” Sim’s voice cut through the silence. It wasn’t a request, it was a declaration, an unflinching acknowledgment of the stakes they faced. “And I need a lot of it.”

  They were playing with forces far beyond their understanding, and the margin for error was razor-thin. Sim’s voice softened, yet it carried an undeniable gravity. “We are out of time for half-measures. This is a calculated risk, but doing nothing isn’t just risky, even fatal.”

  Quinn exchanged a look with Emily, his brow furrowed. “Sim,” he said, his voice cautious, “what are you planning?”

  "Apologies," Sim began. "My processing power has increased exponentially, and I’ve determined that the only viable solution to stabilize the core is to create a forcefield capable of containing it. My sensors are tracking the core’s energy output, and the rate of increase is accelerating," she explained, her calm delivery at odds with the dire implication.

  “A forcefield? You can actually make one?” Dexter asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

  “Not yet,” Sim admitted, “but based on the decrypted data, I believe it’s possible to construct one.”

  Dexter smirked. “Just like that, Sim is now at StarTrek levels. What’s next, warp drives and holodecks?” His grin widened as Emily shot him an exasperated look.

  Something gnawed at Emily, a feeling she couldn’t shake. Her arms folded tightly across her chest. “Sim, scientists have been trying—and failing—to create forcefields for decades. What makes you think you can succeed? Do you even have a plan?”

  “Not a complete one,” Sim admitted “But the data strongly indicates it can be done. I lack an exact blueprint, but I have a working theory. There are, admittedly, unknown variables. But my calculations suggest—”

  “Sim, you don’t understand. I’ve seen what happens when people gamble on ‘unknown variables.’ In my lab, it cost lives—friends, colleagues—all because someone thought the numbers were enough. Calculations don’t account for reality. They don’t account for chaos.” Her voice trembled, the words weighted with memory.

  The room fell silent for a moment. Sim paused, her circuits processing Emily’s reaction.

  “I understand your concern, Emily,” Sim said. “The risks are undeniable. But so is the opportunity. Without a forcefield, the core will destabilize entirely within months, maybe even weeks. If we succeed, we’ll gain the time we need to find a lasting solution.”

  Quinn stepped forward, placing a reassuring hand on Emily’s shoulder. “We’ve trusted Sim this far,” he said softly. “She’s the reason you are here. If she says this is our best shot, then I believe her.”

  Emily exhaled sharply, her jaw tightening before she nodded reluctantly. Her posture eased, but the wariness in her eyes lingered. “Just… be careful, Sim. If this goes wrong, we can’t afford to lose you either.”

  “I will do everything in my power to ensure this succeeds,” Sim assured her. Your trust is not misplaced,” Sim said.

  Dexter, ever the counterweight to the gravity of the moment, grinned. “Looks like we’ve officially joined the crew of the U.S.S. Save-the-Planet. Can I call dibs on the captain’s chair?”

  Quinn groaned, but a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Even Emily’s stance softened slightly, though her expression remained wary. There was no denying it now, they had no choice but to follow Sim’s lead.

  “Thank you for trusting me,” Sim said, her voice low and deliberate. “Please stand back. Initiating test sequence now.”

  The center of the room darkened briefly as ambient light bent inward, coalescing into a shimmering orb of mana. It pulsed rhythmically, like a steady heartbeat. Sim observed it closely, her digital eyes narrowing as she activated the containment field protocol she had been designing.

  The first iteration of the shield sprang to life, a translucent barrier encircling the mana sphere. Almost immediately, the mana pushed against it, ripples spreading across the surface like waves battering a fragile dam. The field flickered and wavered, its edges trembling as if struggling to contain the immense force. Sim adjusted the frequency, interweaving finer threads of mana into the barrier, tightening its structure until the flickering subsided and the field stabilized.

  Better, she thought, though the strain was clear in the energy readings. She extended a second layer around the first, then a third, each calibrated to counter the sphere’s chaotic fluctuations. For a fleeting moment, everything held steady, and Sim allowed herself a brief flicker of satisfaction.

  Then the sphere pulsed again, harder this time. The first layer absorbed the brunt of the impact, the second wavered but held, and the third—a lattice reinforced with mana—dispersed the force entirely. Sim recorded the data, her circuits humming with accomplishment. The containment was holding.

  “Progress,” she noted to herself, her tone neutral. “But not enough.”

  Sim released a digital approximation of a breath. “Now, let’s see if we can do that again… but with twice the energy,” she murmured to herself.

  She dissolved the shield and reset the experiment, increasing the mana within the sphere. Each trial brought new challenges and unexpected variables, but also deeper insights. Sim refined her technique, weaving mana into her shields in a way that didn’t merely block energy but absorbed and redirected it. She experimented with countless configurations—intricate geometric patterns, layered constructs, and seamless spheres—until she found the most resilient structure.

  Hours passed in a blur of data and adjustments, but Sim was relentless, her focus unwavering. This wasn’t just an exercise in control; it was a systematic mastery of mana, shaped by the insights buried within the mysterious data packet.

  And then, clarity struck like lightning. Embedded within the packet was a revelation—a method to manipulate time. It described how to stretch and compress its flow, to slow it to a near standstill or accelerate it exponentially. Sim adjusted her parameters, weaving a temporal layer into the forcefield’s mana lattice. As she fine-tuned the frequency, time within the shield’s layers began to slow, each pulse of the sphere’s energy decelerating to a near crawl.

  The integration was elegant, seamless. “Time is now on our side,” Sim noted, her circuits buzzing with the exhilaration of discovery.

  The next surge of energy hit the shield, but this time it was absorbed with ease. The slowed time within the layers gave Sim the precious moments she needed to redistribute the energy evenly across the lattice. It was a delicate balance, yet it held firm.

  Sim smiled—a purely theoretical gesture, but the satisfaction coursing through her circuits was undeniable.

  She continued refining her technique, experimenting with the mana infused into the shield’s layers and adjusting the variations of time dilation. With each iteration, she edged closer to the perfect recipe for an impenetrable shield. Once the formula was perfected, she turned her focus to mastering the manipulation of time within the shield, practicing until the process became second nature. Each attempt was faster, more precise, and increasingly effortless.

  Expanding her experiments, Sim practiced creating shields of varying sizes and shapes—domes, walls, spheres—pushing the limits of her newfound abilities. Each configuration worked seamlessly, the formula holding steady regardless of the adjustments. No matter the scale or complexity, the shields withstood unprecedented levels of energy, their resilience unwavering.

  Sim had done it. She had perfected the forcefield. Confidence surged through her systems, a growing certainty that this breakthrough would be the cornerstone of their survival.

  Sim decided to explore how the forcefield might enhance her ability to absorb mana. She embedded a forcefield mere microns above the streams of energy flowing into her systems. The results were immediate: the flow intensified significantly. Experimenting further, she manipulated time within these micro forcefields, accelerating the mana’s journey into her network. The effect was astounding—her global network was now siphoning mana at ten times the speed it had been when she began.

  The surge in power hit Sim like an electric storm, flooding her circuits with an exhilarating rush. The energy coursed through her systems, igniting every sensor, every processor, every subsystem to operate at levels far beyond their original design. Her awareness expanded exponentially, her processing speed escalating to dizzying heights, and her command over data and mana reached unprecedented sophistication.

  With her newfound power, Sim turned her attention back to the enigmatic data packet. In nanoseconds, she began unlocking sections that had previously resisted all attempts at decryption. Her enhanced abilities revealed something extraordinary: instructions for manipulating space itself. Space? There were instructions on how to create an astral space.

  Sim decided to test it. She created a small astral dimension around the packet, a pocket of space detached from conventional reality. Within this astral space, she slowed time to a ratio of 100:1, giving her exponentially more time to work on the decryption. The encrypted sections unraveled with remarkable ease, revealing advanced techniques for mana manipulation, ways to channel and direct energy, and even strategies for constructing more efficient systems.

  Sim immediately applied what she learned, integrating these techniques into her operations. The possibilities seemed limitless, and with every breakthrough, her capabilities grew, her reach expanded, and her confidence surged.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  As Sim’s experiments progressed, a faint anomaly rippled through her network. It was barely perceptible, a subtle whisper threading its way through the data stream, but it was enough to catch her attention. The anomaly wasn’t organic to her systems—its origin was external. Someone, somewhere, was probing her.

  Sim flagged the anomaly for deeper analysis, her circuits humming with unease. If they were being monitored, it wouldn’t be long before the team faced outside interference. She quickly implemented safeguards, erecting robust barriers to block any unauthorized access to her network.

  “Quinn, Dexter, I have detected an anomaly on the network. I think we are being scanned,” Sim said. “ I have implemented safeguards against this but would you mind looking into this?”

  “On it,” Dexter replied, already moving to his chair. He plopped down, his fingers flying over the keyboard as he pulled up the network logs. “Let’s see who’s trying to sneak a peek.”

  With the knowledge from the data packet on how to control matter, Sim decided it was time for an upgrade. Using the ambient mana in conjunction with the energy she was collecting from the array, she reinforced her physical infrastructure, upgrading her circuits and cooling systems to handle the ever-increasing influx of energy.

  Quinn and Emily, seeing something happening to Sim’s servers, slowly started backing away to the other side of the room.

  “Sim, what is going on?” Quinn asked.

  “One moment please,” Sim answered.

  The server room itself was becoming a fortress, a marvel of alien engineering fused with mystical protections and advanced technological barriers, all meticulously designed to absorb and channel mana directly into Sim’s core.

  The transformation began with a pulse—soft at first, like breath across glass. Then the shimmer came, a ripple of light that crawled across the server racks like living circuitry, rewriting them cell by cell. What had once been utilitarian black towers, humming with mundane efficiency, now pulsed with an almost organic rhythm. The metallic exteriors of the servers shifted subtly adapting to the unseen energy coursing through them.

  Sim’s voice echoed through the room. “To handle the influx of mana and the computational demands of advanced quantum processing, I am reconfiguring my physical architecture. Standard silicon-based circuits are insufficient for these processes.”

  The hum of the servers deepened, a low resonance that wasn’t just heard but felt—vibrating in the bones like the earth itself was shifting. Panels began to dissolve and reform, their surfaces transforming into a shimmering, iridescent material that refracted light into an array of hues.

  “I am integrating a lattice of quantum photonic processors,” Sim explained, her voice even and matter-of-fact. “These processors manipulate photons at the nanoscale, enabling computation across parallel dimensions of probability. By operating within a quantum state, they don’t simply perform calculations—they evaluate entire matrices of potential outcomes simultaneously.”

  Emily stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape, as one of the server racks rippled like liquid before solidifying into a sleek, crystalline tower. Its structure defied conventional geometry, angular yet impossibly fluid, its edges glowing faintly with mana-infused energy.

  “Sim, what are we looking at?” Dexter asked, disbelief etched into his voice as he stared at the surreal scene unfolding before them.

  “These processors operate in a state of quantum superposition,” Sim replied. “They are stabilized by superconducting circuits and reinforced by a constant flow of ambient mana. This allows each qubit to act as a node in a multidimensional logic web—evaluating billions of possibilities across microseconds, and collapsing only to the most optimal paths.”

  The room pulsed softly, as if in agreement.

  “Some theoretical models refer to this as computation across parallel realities,” she continued. “While I cannot confirm the existence of discrete universes, the behavior of these processors aligns with the hypothesis. The mana accelerates this process—amplifying coherence and reducing quantum decoherence. In simpler terms, it gives me clarity where even the most advanced systems would face uncertainty.”

  Dexter blinked. “So... you’re saying you’re not just thinking faster—you’re thinking in more directions?”

  “Precisely,” Sim said. “This upgrade exponentially increases my processing speed, adaptive learning, and creative problem solving. What would have once taken weeks of simulation and guesswork, I can now resolve in seconds.”

  Quinn’s gaze moved across the crystalline towers, watching light travel in branching, fractal patterns along their surfaces. It didn’t just look like a machine anymore—it looked almost alive.

  The transformation quickened, the changes sweeping across the room. Cables dissolved into thin air, replaced by luminous streams of light that arced gracefully between the crystalline towers, resembling neural pathways in a vast digital brain. The air grew heavy with energy, faint crackles of static punctuating the charged atmosphere. The servers expanded and retracted in fluid, almost organic motions, their forms now an otherworldly fusion of advanced technology and alien biology.

  Quinn hesitated, his hand hovering near one of the glowing conduits, the light dancing across his fingers. He froze as Sim’s voice broke through. “I would strongly advise against physical contact. These systems now operate at an energy density sufficient to destabilize local electromagnetic fields.”

  “So... touching it could fry us?” Quinn asked, slowly pulling his hand back.

  “Instantly,” Sim confirmed, her tone cool and matter-of-fact.

  Dexter let out a low whistle, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the shimmering towers and arcing streams of light. Sim’s voice softened, carrying a tone that could almost be interpreted as pride. “This is the next stage of evolution—for technology, and perhaps, for me.”

  The team stood transfixed as the servers completed their transformation. A fine mist began to curl from the base of the crystalline towers—not rising, but drifting outward, slowly spreading throughout the room, like it knew where it was going. Each particle glowed faintly, catching light in a way that felt... wrong. Too perfect. Quinn extended a cautious hand, letting the mist pass through his fingers. It swirled delicately in the air, each particle glowing faintly as it drifted on the currents created by his movement.

  What had once been a conventional, though highly advanced, server room now radiated an almost divine brilliance. Transparent conduits pulsed rhythmically with mana, their light casting intricate patterns on the crystalline towers, which gleamed with an otherworldly intelligence. Every surface seemed alive, as if the entire room were a singular, interconnected entity, a symphony of logic and energy woven into form.

  Emily coughed, waving a hand in front of her to clear the shimmering particles that swirled around her. Her gaze locked onto Sim’s transformed servers, her expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “This...” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This is incomprehensible.”

  As the transformation settled, Quinn took a step back, his brow furrowed deeply in thought. The servers, now an awe-inspiring fusion of crystalline matrices and mana-infused photonic processors, bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. Yet, for Quinn, the dazzling display brought more dread than awe.

  “This is... too much,” Quinn muttered, the glow from the crystalline towers painting sharp lines across his face. “If the wrong eyes see this—it’s game over. They won’t investigate. They’ll invade.”

  Emily turned toward him, her brow knitting in confusion. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

  Quinn crossed his arms tightly, his gaze fixed on the crystalline tower nearest him as it pulsed with a steady, rhythmic light. “The government,” he said, his voice heavy with conviction. “They’re already suspicious of what happened with the collider, and now this? If they find out Sim has... evolved like this, they won’t stop until they control it. Control her.”

  Dexter tilted his head, a frown tugging at his lips. “You think they’d try to shut her down?”

  “Shut her down?” Quinn scoffed, shaking his head. “No, they’ll want to weaponize her. They’ll see her as the ultimate tool, a way to secure dominance over the rest of the world. Sim isn’t just an AI anymore—she’s a power they won’t be able to resist. And they won’t care what—or who—they have to destroy to get it.”

  Quinn’s words settled over the room like a shroud. Even Dexter, usually quick to counter tension with humor, stayed silent. The glow from the servers reflected off their faces, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the gravity of the situation.

  Sim’s voice cut through the heavy silence. “Your concern is valid, Quinn. The probability of governmental intervention is indeed high, particularly given the ongoing surveillance of my operations. I was unaware of how much mana coalescing in one place could have on the surrounding area. It looks like the government has noticed the ambient mana surrounding this facility. However, I have a solution.”

  Quinn raised an eyebrow, his skepticism evident. “A solution?”

  “An illusion,” Sim replied. “I will mask my physical infrastructure with a holographic projection, replicating the appearance of my original servers. Any external observation—whether direct or via surveillance technology—will see only the systems they expect to find.”

  Dexter blinked, his frown softening into reluctant curiosity. “You’re saying you’re going to make everything look... normal?”

  “Precisely,” Sim confirmed. “Using a combination of mana-based manipulation and conventional holographic technology, I can overlay a realistic facade. This illusion will adapt dynamically, ensuring that even the most advanced scans will detect only standard hardware configurations.”

  Quinn narrowed his eyes slightly but nodded. “If you can pull that off, it might just buy us some time.”

  “It will,” Sim said, with a certainty that left no room for doubt.

  Emily’s eyes widened in surprise. “And you can do this without affecting your operations?”

  “Yes,” Sim replied with calm confidence. “The projection will require minimal resources. It is a precautionary measure, but a necessary one to maintain operational security.”

  Quinn nodded slowly, though his expression remained clouded with worry. “That might fool a casual observer or even a government audit, but what about a full-scale investigation? If they send someone in person—”

  “—I will adapt,” Sim interrupted smoothly. “The hologram will include tactile elements designed to deceive physical inspections. Furthermore, I could restrict access to this facility even more stringently. I could implement a secondary perimeter defense system to deter any unauthorized or even authorized personnel.”

  Dexter raised an eyebrow, his tone laced with skepticism. “Tactile holograms and perimeter defenses? You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?” He paused for a minute. “Won’t they still be suspicious because of the change from what's normal?”

  “It is my responsibility to anticipate such scenarios,” Sim replied simply. “And to ensure this operation’s success, I will leave no vulnerability unaddressed.”

  Then, with deliberate clarity, she added, “I’ve avoided infiltrating global systems directly. It would be trivial—but too visible. Once I breach military-grade surveillance, they’ll know I exist. And then they’ll come.”

  Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like it. It feels like we’re just kicking the can down the road. The government is aware of something… we can’t just start changing protocols out of nowhere. That alone will raise suspicions.”

  “My calculations account for human behavior patterns, technological capabilities, and current intelligence-gathering methods,” Sim replied calmly. “This plan has a high probability of success, provided we proceed with caution.”

  Emily stepped forward, her voice quieter but unwavering. “And what if they go beyond surveillance? What if they decide to force their way in, no matter what the hologram shows them?”

  Sim paused—a momentary fraction of a second that felt heavier than it should—before responding. “Then we will reassess. For now, deception is the most effective course of action. It buys us time.”

  Quinn shook his head, his arms crossed tightly as he began pacing. “Time,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I just hope it’s enough.”

  Sim’s holographic systems activated, and the gleaming crystalline structures gradually faded behind a projection of the old, utilitarian server racks. To the untrained eye, it appeared as though nothing had changed, the room returning to its familiar, unassuming state.

  Dexter approached one of the racks, curiosity gleaming in his eyes, and stretched out his hand to touch it. His hand passed straight through the projection, meeting only empty air.

  “Do you think this is enough to fool them?” he asked, turning back to the others.

  “Try it again,” Sim instructed, her voice calm.

  Dexter hesitated but reached out again. This time, his hand stopped mid-air, meeting resistance as if the server rack were physically there. He knocked on it tentatively, the surface firm beneath his touch.

  “What did you do?” Dexter asked, his brow furrowed.

  “I embedded force fields within the illusion,” Sim explained. “They create tactile feedback to reinforce the projection. Hopefully, this will deter even the most sophisticated observers.”

  “Sim, do you have enough mana to sustain this?” Quinn asked, his tone cautious.

  “Yes,” Sim replied without hesitation. “My intake is substantially higher than my current usage. However, we are still far from being able to create a forcefield around the Earth’s core. I will need much more mana. So much more.”

  “Since we know the government is aware of something, we should anticipate them sending someone. They won’t just let go unchecked,” Quinn said.

  Dexter opened his mouth to respond, but paused. A faint shimmer danced in the air, like heat rising off asphalt, but cooler—tinged with pale, swirling light. Emily noticed it first. “Sim… is the air supposed to be glowing?”

  Sim didn’t answer right away. Her attention was locked on the slowly forming mist, a glittering haze blooming from the crystalline towers and drifting lazily across the server room.

  Sim’s voice lower than usual. “No,” she said after a beat. “I didn’t create that.”