CHAPTER 4: STRANGE NEW POWERS

Sage's hologram flickered into existence beside Eli as he sat reorganizing his collection of monster teeth. Alphabetically, again. Her silver-streaked hair caught the light from the environmental systems as she watched him with thinly veiled amusement.

"Didn't you just sort those last week?" she asked, leaning against his desk and passing her translucent hand through a particularly impressive canine.

Eli glanced up from the half-finished inventory report blinking on his screen. A task he'd opened purely to feel productive.

"Shit," he muttered, leaning back in his chair. The metallic legs creaked despite being rated for far more weight than his synthetic frame. "I'm bored out of my skull."

He dismissed the inventory with a flick. No one needed another cataloging of predator dentition. They'd been on Luyten b for months now, and the initial crisis management phase had given way to routine. For a synthetic being designed for security operations, routine was worse than combat.

"You could always join another perimeter patrol," Sage suggested, materializing a chair across from him and settling into it with practiced ease. The way she crossed her legs and smoothed her non-existent clothing, these human mannerisms had evolved during their century together, making her seem more real than most AIs.

"Already did three today." Eli stretched, his synthetic joints moving silently while his mind still expected the satisfying pops of his long-gone human body. "There are only so many times I can walk the fence line before I start questioning my existence."

"Ah, the existential crisis arrives right on schedule." Sage's holographic lips curved into a smile. "Only took six months planetside."

"I've completed the mission," Eli said, gesturing at the settlement visible through his window. "Everyone's safe. Security protocols established. Immediate threats identified and neutralized." He tapped the desk with each item, as if crossing them off a mental checklist. "And now I'm just here. Like a dog that finally caught the car it was chasing."

Sage studied him, green eyes narrowing slightly. "What's really bothering you?"

Eli laughed softly. "You know me too well." He ran a hand through his hair, still dark and thick, unnaturally perfect compared to the half-balding skull he'd left behind on Earth. "If you must know, I've been thinking about opening a bakery once we have the infrastructure."

The silence that followed was almost comical. Sage's holographic eyebrows shot up, her mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise.

"A... bakery?" she finally managed.

"Yeah." He couldn't help smiling at her reaction. "There's something about the precision of it. The measuring, the timing, watching dough rise. Brushing butter across pastry to get that perfect crust." He paused, surprised by how much he'd thought about this. "Hell, even the smell. If I still had blood pressure, thinking about it would probably lower it by ten points."

"Let me get this straight," Sage said carefully, her hologram's edges softening in what he recognized as her version of speaking delicately. "The deadly synthetic operative wants to make croissants?"

"You're the one who spent a century quoting Greek mythology," he shot back, standing and stretching again out of habit rather than necessity. "At least bread is useful."

"Just unexpected," she replied. "Though you did make that sourdough starter on the ship in year sixty-eight."

"That was a science experiment."

"That you ate."

"Semantics." Eli moved toward the door. "Come on, let's go bother the agricultural team. At least that's something useful."

"Better than arranging teeth by tooth type," Sage agreed, her hologram following him out.

The corridor leading to the main airlock still felt more like ship than colony. Metal walls, recycled air, the subtle hum of environmental systems that had been their soundtrack for over a century. But beyond the airlock doors lay something neither of them had experienced before, a real world with soil and weather and infinite horizons. Even if those horizons sat beneath an alien red dwarf star that gave everything a faintly apocalyptic glow.

Dr. Eliza Rodriguez nearly dropped a tray of soil samples when Eli appeared in the doorway of her makeshift lab. The greenhouse module smelled of earth and vegetation, a welcome contrast to the recycled air in the colony's living quarters.

She wiped her hands on her lab coat, once white, now a patchwork of soil stains and plant residue, and fixed him with a look that fell somewhere between suspicion and resignation.

"Mr. Falken." Her tone suggested he'd wandered into someone else's domain. "What brings security to my facility? Biological contamination or imminent predator attack?"

Eli leaned against the doorframe, careful not to disturb what appeared to be organized chaos. Seedlings, soil samples, and analysis equipment covered every surface. A smudge of dirt marked her cheek, and the urge to point it out vanished when he registered the shadows under her eyes.

"Looking to help out," he said with a shrug. "You're obviously short-staffed, and I've got too much time on my hands." He gestured at the jungle of seedlings and equipment. "Unless you prefer working alone while juggling fifty soil samples."

Rodriguez looked him up and down, her eyes pausing on his too-perfect hands. Her expression reminded him of Agency recruiters sizing up potential assets. Skeptical, calculating, but pragmatic enough to recognize utility.

"Do you know anything about agriculture?" She emphasized each syllable like she was speaking to a particularly slow child.

Eli tapped his temple with one finger. "They uploaded the complete agricultural database before launch. I'm not claiming to be an expert. Knowing isn't the same as doing. But I understand the theory." He picked up a soil sample, examining its deep purple and black granular composition. "Plus I don't get tired, and I can lift more than your entire team combined."

Her eyes lingered on his hands, too perfect for fieldwork, too lethal for delicate seedlings. The skepticism in her expression clearly broadcast that combat synthetics weren't her first choice for agricultural assistants.

After a long moment that he didn't feel compelled to fill, she pointed to potted plants in the corner. "Blackberry transplants from Earth. Hardy, quick to produce, good for soil stabilization." She approached one thorny plant, her touch surprisingly gentle. "That northern slope has good soil composition but no stability. First heavy rain and it all washes away. We need root systems established before that happens."

"I can handle the planting," Eli said, recognizing the busywork assignment for what it was. Something to keep the security guy occupied and out of her lab.

"Dig holes twice the root ball width, watch the depth, space them two meters apart, water thoroughly." She handed him tools with the brisk efficiency of a teacher assigning work to the class troublemaker. "And watch the thorns. They're surprisingly sharp."

His face formed what might have been a genuine smile. "After fighting hexaraptors, I think I can handle blackberry thorns." He gathered the supplies and plants, balancing them effortlessly. "Anything else before I go play in the dirt?"

She turned back to her specimens, dismissing him. "Try not to kill them. Every viable plant is critical. Almost sixty percent of our seedstock failed to survive stasis."

The northern slope offered an expansive view of the colony and the alien terrain beyond. Eli worked methodically, his enhanced body handling the heavier gravity without strain. The physical labor grounded him in a way that three perimeter patrols hadn't. There was something satisfying about digging a hole and putting something in it.

Dirt collected under his synthetic fingernails. Oddly satisfying. His artificial skin didn't sweat, but dust clung to it in patterns that resembled perspiration stains. Something about working with soil felt right, even alien soil, even with synthetic hands.

Three hours later, he'd turned bare terrain into neat rows of support structures with slender blackberry canes ready to catch whatever passed for sunlight under this dim red star. The transformation brought unexpected satisfaction. Creating life instead of ending it.

Rather than report back to Rodriguez, who'd clearly be happier with his absence, Eli headed toward the mountain that dominated the settlement's eastern perimeter. His rifle remained secure across his chest, knife at his hip, sword on his back. This world had too many predators to go unarmed.

"Going exploring?" Sage's voice materialized in his head. "I see you've switched from gardening tools back to weapons."

"Just doing some recon," he replied internally. "Besides, Rodriguez was clearly pleased to see the back of me. Planting's done, so back to what I know best."

"Your blackberry arrangement was impressively precise," she noted with a hint of teasing. "Organized by height and then potential yield, if I'm not mistaken."

"Old habits. One existential crisis at a time, please."

He moved faster than any human could, his enhanced senses cataloging everything around him. Purple vegetation swayed in a warm breeze that smelled faintly of cinnamon. Six-legged creatures with rainbow scales scattered at his approach. The mountain grew larger with each stride, its gray rock face jutting skyward.

As he circled the base, his enhanced vision caught something strange: a perfectly circular opening hidden behind native plants. The geometric precision created immediate cognitive dissonance. Natural formations didn't make perfect circles.

"Sage," he subvocalized, slowing his pace, "I've found something weird. Cave entrance with artificial characteristics."

Her presence intensified in their connection. "Artificial? On an uninhabited planet?" Surprise colored her normally composed voice. "Are you sure?"

"Verifying now." He pushed aside the vegetation, revealing geometric lines that could only be manufactured. Perfect circular dimensions, exactly two meters in diameter. Edges machined with submillimeter precision. "Yeah, definitely artificial. Perfect circle, machine-cut edges. Unless this planet has OCD beavers with plasma cutters, we're looking at intelligent construction."

"Eli." Her tone carried that maternal warning he'd grown accustomed to over decades. "Protocol says you should report unknown structures before going in."

"I'm going inside to check it out," he interrupted, already stepping through the opening. Reporting without data would be pointless. Leadership would just send him to investigate anyway. Better to gather intel first.

His visual systems adjusted immediately to the darkness. The tunnel's construction confirmed artificial origin. Walls polished to perfect smoothness, carved rather than eroded. The passage maintained a consistent diameter, running straight into the mountain.

"This wasn't created by water or geological processes," he observed, running his fingers along impossibly smooth stone that felt slightly warmer than expected. "No tool marks, no drill patterns. It's like the stone was molecularly persuaded to move aside."

"Be careful," Sage warned, stress evident in her voice. "Unknown technology means unknown hazards. Remember Rio de Janeiro? The security team that went in first and, "

"Just preliminary recon," he assured her, old habits overriding caution. "Quick survey, then a full report with actual data. Besides, this body is practically indestructible." He adjusted the rifle across his chest. "And well-armed."

"Your confidence is both admirable and concerning," she replied with that familiar mix of worry and resignation.

After about a hundred meters of uniform tunnel, the passage opened into a space that stopped him cold.

The chamber stretched upward with cathedral-like proportions, built by beings who'd apparently never heard of human scale. The ceiling vanished into shadows at least thirty meters up, supported by massive columns larger than redwood trunks. Stone pillars, three meters across, formed precise rows like petrified giants, supporting arches that would make Earth's greatest architects weep with envy.

A central pathway of darker stone ran between the columns, drawing the eye forward. But the floor patterns captured his full attention. Intricate geometric designs carved with microscopic precision. Mathematical spirals intersected with organic curves, creating patterns that seemed to shift when not directly observed.

At the chamber's far end stood an altar elevated on three octagonal steps. The platform bore deeply engraved symbols that defied interpretation, neither mathematical nor linguistic in any familiar pattern.

On the altar rested a crystal-like object.

"Eli, I can't process what I'm seeing," Sage whispered, genuine awe in her voice. "The acoustics in here are perfectly calibrated. Every surface seems designed to focus sound toward the center. This is beyond anything in my reference database."

The crystal defied easy description beyond its rough watermelon size. It seemed to shift between states of matter, solid, then liquid, then something physics didn't have a name for. Its exterior looked like flawless diamond while purple energy currents swirled inside, forming and dissolving complex patterns like neural networks firing.

"This technology is way beyond anything in our database," Eli said, approaching cautiously but keeping his distance. "Light-years beyond Earth's development. Clarke's Third Law in action."

"Look at the wall surfaces more carefully," Sage suggested.

He pushed his visual magnification to maximum and couldn't stop a soft whistle. Every wall surface contained microscopic engravings layered in infinite depth, three-dimensional data storage at molecular scale. The deeper his enhanced vision penetrated, the more information layers appeared.

"This isn't just a room," he said. "The entire chamber is one massive data storage system."

"A library encoded at atomic level," Sage agreed. "The information density exceeds anything humans have created by orders of magnitude."

As he moved closer, the purple energy reacted, intensifying, pulsing faster, almost eager for interaction. The phenomenon triggered every survival instinct he'd developed through decades of field operations. Warning indicators flashed across his internal display.

"The energy patterns are shifting with proximity," he noted, though curiosity was winning over caution. "It's responding specifically to me."

"Eli. Please. We should set up remote analysis first." Sage's concern pitched toward urgency. "Document what we have, contact the colony, get a science team out here."

But curiosity pulled like gravity. Training said be cautious. Experience said be careful. Logic listed every fictional example of people dying after touching alien artifacts. Something primal demanded to understand anyway.

Just a quick touch. What could possibly go wrong? Famous last words throughout human history.

He reached forward, every synthetic muscle tensed for immediate withdrawal, and made brief contact with the surface.

Text instantly filled his visual field: Welcome Ascension Candidate, Error... Artificial life form detected... Determining options...

"What, " He yanked his hand back with snake-strike speed, but the interaction had already begun.

Pain seared through every neural pathway like electrical discharge coursing through his entire system. He watched in horror as his finger dissolved, not breaking or liquefying, but converting into streams of energy flowing into the crystal. Synthetic skin and muscle deconstructing at the atomic level, each molecule reorganizing into light.

"SAGE!" His shout echoed through the massive chamber as the dissolution crept up his hand toward his wrist. The chamber walls activated. Billions of microscopic etchings illuminated in cascading waves of information transfer.

Error... Artificial life form detected... Determining options...

The last thing he registered before darkness claimed him was the crystal's purple energy reaching blinding intensity, and Sage's terrified voice breaking into digital static.

He was suspended in a void beyond description. Not death, but consciousness floating in information currents. Massive symbol clouds swirled around and through him, altering fundamental parameters with mathematical precision. The experience transcended physical sensation, like being simultaneously deconstructed and rebuilt.

No pain. No fear. Just pure information washing through whatever remained of his self.

Consciousness returned with violent suddenness. He stood at his original position, physically unchanged but fundamentally altered in ways that registered at the cellular level. Like returning to a familiar room where someone had subtly rearranged the furniture. Recognizable, but wrong.

New information displayed across his augmented reality interface: Solution implemented... Ascension Candidate converted to bio-mechanical entity to allow for essence absorption and mana usage... Immortality and Regeneration capabilities maintained. Think 'Show Status' to view your profile, ability information, skill selection and documentation.

"ELI!" Sage's terror flooded their connection. Her normally controlled voice fragmented with static. "My logs show complete system failure! All systems terminated for seven point three seconds! You were DEAD!"

"I'm okay," he managed, examining hands that looked identical but felt different. "Systems functioning normally."

"Normally?" Her hologram appeared beside him, form unstable with agitation. "We DIED. You experienced molecular disintegration followed by reconstruction!" Her voice strained with analytical overload. "The energy signatures violated every physics parameter in my database!"

"According to the system message, I've been modified to a bio-mechanical entity," Eli said, flexing his fingers experimentally. "Whatever that means."

"And what exactly does that mean?" Her hologram paced anxiously, a completely unnecessary behavior that betrayed how shaken she was.

"Let's find out." He focused deliberately. Show Status.

An interface materialized within his existing augmented reality display:

[Profile]
Name: Eli Falken
Age: 187
Race: Human (Bio-mechanical Variant)
Level: 1
Essence: 0/1000

[Statistics]
Strength: 109
Agility: 109
Durability: 100
Intelligence: 155
Perception: 141
Unallocated Points: 0

[Skills]
Primary Skill(s): Revelation
General Skill(s): None (Think 'Skill Selection' to choose skills)

[Traits]
Immortal
Regeneration

"It's quantified you," Sage observed, her hologram stabilizing as she processed the data. "These values make sense if we assume ten represents average human baseline."

Eli studied the translucent interface. "Strength and agility at 109, so I'm about eleven times stronger and faster than a normal human." His fingers moved through the display with surprising intuitiveness. "Intelligence and perception reflect the synthetic neural system." He paused at the final section. "Immortal and Regeneration. Confirming what we already knew about this body."

"Access the documentation," Sage suggested, academic excitement creeping back into her voice. "There appears to be an extensive knowledge base integrated with the system."

When Eli mentally reached for the documentation, a comprehensive menu unfolded within his consciousness: Getting Started, System Architecture, Ability Mechanics, Skill Catalog, Essence Mechanics, Mana Theory.

"This Ascension System appears to be a framework for guided evolutionary advancement," Sage explained, her hologram darting around the chamber. She paused near an intricate section of wall engravings. "Created by a race called the Evaruun. They designed it to use essence energy for advancement and mana manipulation for creating various phenomena."

"So, basically magic," Eli muttered, flexing his fingers. They looked identical to before but somehow felt more connected to his consciousness.

"If you want the crude Earth terminology, yes," she replied with a hint of amusement. "Though they'd call it advanced dimensional energy manipulation."

She hovered near another section of engravings. "The system awards five attribute points per level that you can distribute. These aren't just numbers. They represent actual biological enhancements."

"That explains why I feel different," he said, examining his unchanged-yet-changed hands. "It's modified me at a cellular level."

"It also assigned you a primary skill based on your existing capabilities," Sage continued. "Something called Revelation."

The moment Eli thought the word, his perception transformed. A holographic overlay materialized across his field of view, highlighting everything in the chamber with extraordinary detail. Structural stress points in the stone walls. Molecular composition of the altar. Even microscopic organisms living in the cracks.

"Whoa." He turned slowly. "This is intense."

"What are you seeing?" Sage asked, studying his reactions.

"Everything," he replied, his eyes tracking invisible data points. "It's like advanced scanning technology integrated directly into my perception. I can see stress fractures in the ceiling. I can analyze the altar's molecular arrangement." He turned toward her, genuine surprise registering. "I can even see the computational patterns in your holographic matrix. The actual code behind your projection."

He shifted his gaze toward the entrance, his expression changing from amazement to discomfort. "And something else. I can sense those organisms in the corridor, not just their presence, but their emotional states. Fear shows as red pulses when they detect movement. Hunger appears as yellow waves."

He turned slowly, focusing toward the settlement, and his expression shifted again.

"If I concentrate toward the colony, I can..." he hesitated, searching for the right words, "it's like overhearing fragments of conversations. Surface thoughts. Emotional impressions."

He closed his eyes. "The range seems limited to about a hundred forty meters. It reaches the crop field, then fades." His brow furrowed. "Rodriguez is out there. She's calculating soil composition adjustments while examining wheat seedlings. Frustrated about the gravity, but excited that resilient Earth C4 grasses might adapt better than expected despite the 1.4G environment."

Eli opened his eyes. "She has no idea I can perceive her thoughts. This feels invasive."

"That capability exceeds anything cybernetics can accomplish," Sage said softly.

"The interface says scan radius increases with Perception and Intelligence," he noted. "At higher levels, this could extend much further." He gestured at empty air, his fingers moving with precise motions. "The system also renders a tactical display I can manipulate. Like having mission control inside my head."

He made a dismissive gesture. His posture immediately loosened, shoulders dropping, expression clearing. "Thank God I can turn it off. Having thousands of data points streaming directly into your consciousness is overwhelming."

"It transforms you from having enhanced perception to becoming an omniscient observer within your range," Sage observed.

"And that's what worries me," Eli admitted, leaning against one of the massive stone columns. "Perceiving surface thoughts crosses boundaries most humans would consider inviolable."

"It's essentially limited telepathy," Sage agreed. "Not complete mind reading, but access to immediate thoughts and feelings."

"All of this raises one critical question," Eli said, pushing away from the column. "How do we tell Alex and the others?"

Sage's hologram flickered slightly. "That's complicated. 'Good news, everyone, I can now perceive your surface thoughts and see through walls' isn't exactly reassuring for a fledgling colony."

"The structural analysis capabilities are useful, non-threatening. Easy to frame as an enhancement." He lowered his voice despite being alone. "But the mind reading aspect? That crosses a line most people would find deeply disturbing."

"It would fundamentally change how they interact with you," Sage agreed quietly. "No matter how much they trust you, knowing someone can perceive their unfiltered thoughts would create barriers."

"I could just tell them about the scanning system," Eli suggested, though his expression showed he recognized the ethical compromise. "Omit the telepathic aspects."

"A partial truth," Sage observed, neither judging nor approving.

As they prepared to leave, he caught her studying him with an analytical expression. "What is it?"

"I'm calculating potential outcomes," she said, her voice carrying that subtle warmth that had developed over their long companionship. "This represents a significant advancement in your capabilities."

"For better or worse." He hefted his rifle. "Though I don't see any reason not to use it. The change already happened."

He looked down at his hands, unchanged in every visible way. "This just puts more distance between me and them. I already stick out, the machine pretending to be human. Now I'm something even further from normal."

"But you consistently protect them," Sage reminded him, her holographic form moving closer, silver-streaked hair catching the crystal's purple light. "That's what defines you, not what you're made of. After a century together, I've seen every version of you. They've all been worthwhile."

Her comment caught him by surprise. Something spread through systems that shouldn't support emotional response, warm and strange and entirely unwelcome in how much it meant to him. "Thanks, Sage. That means a lot."

"Let's head back," she suggested. "You can consider skill selection after we've had time to process this. No need for hasty decisions."

"Coffee first," Eli agreed, casting a final glance at the crystal with its swirling purple energy. "Then we'll see what superpowers an ancient alien civilization has for sale."

As they headed back toward the settlement, his mind kept circling back to Alex, to the colonists, to the conversation he'd eventually have to have. One more thing separating him from the humans he was designed to protect. And yet, standing in that alien chamber with Sage beside him, it was impossible not to think that this strange new capability might be exactly what he'd need to keep them safe on a planet that was still full of surprises.