Dr. Aris scanned the faces of the workers standing before him, a sneer curling his lip. He basked in their humiliation.
"Hmph. Let this be a lesson to you all," Aris spat. "Just because you have a tongue doesn't mean you should wag it. Expertise commands respect, and you lot have neither."
He gave a curt nod to the R&D Director standing beside him.
The Director immediately took the cue, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper as he addressed the workers. "Well? What are you waiting for? Thank Chief Designer Aris for his mercy!"
The workers stood in rigid silence. They had just been fined half a year’s wages for pointing out genuine flaws in the design. Anger simmered behind their eyes—thank him? They wanted to strangle him.
But reality was a heavy chain. They were low-level laborers in a world that valued high-tier Engineers like gods. They had no leverage.
"Thank you, Chief Designer Aris," they mumbled in ragged unison, heads bowed in defeat.
"Get out of my sight," the foreman barked, ushering them away. "And next time, use your damn brains before you open your mouths. Unbelievable."
As the workers shuffled off, the atmosphere around the construction site lightened. The parts were machined, the grunt work was done. Now came the glory.
Aris turned to the Director, his face flushed with anticipation. "Since the preparations are complete, let’s head to the testing grounds. It’s perfect timing. With everyone here, we can witness the capabilities of my masterpiece together."
The Director beamed, eager to smooth things over. "Lead the way, Dr. Aris! I’ve already sent word for the observation team to assemble. This 'Penetrator Ballista' of yours... is it true? Can it really pierce the carapace of a Tier 3 Acid-Web Arachnid?"
Aris stopped walking and shot him a sharp look. "You doubt me?"
"No, no! Of course not!" The Director waved his hands defensively. "I’m just excited, that's all! The higher-ups have been breathing down our necks for results. We’ve poured every credit and resource we have into this project."
"Good," Aris scoffed, resuming his stride. "You’ll see soon enough. This tower is the ultimate counter to those arachnids. I have absolute confidence it will outperform any standard Tier 2 Sentry Tower. In fact, its firepower rivals a Tier 3 structure."
They marched toward the testing site, a designated zone on the outskirts of the facility.
When they arrived, the site was buzzing with activity. Technicians were making final adjustments to the towering ballista, its sleek metal limbs glistening under the floodlights.
"Chief Designer!" a technician called out. "We’re running final diagnostics. We’ll be ready to fire in thirty minutes."
"Excellent," Aris replied. "Are the targets prepped?"
"Yes, sir. We have layers of cowhide, reinforced steel plating, and high-strength alloy blocks. Everything is set."
"Good. We wait."
The group moved to a nearby rest area to kill time. As they settled in, a young man—the Director's personal assistant—came sprinting from the administration building, clutching a roll of paper.
Aris was busy boasting to a circle of junior designers, so he didn't notice the assistant slip up behind the Director.
"Sir," the assistant whispered urgently. "You need to see this."
The Director frowned, annoyed at the interruption. He glanced at Aris, ensuring the Chief Designer was distracted, before leaning in. "What is it?"
The assistant lowered his voice further. "It’s about the new blueprints from the outpost. Sawyer sent them."
"Sawyer?" The Director blinked. He looked around the room. Aris was still loudly pontificating about torque ratios. "Is this important?"
"Very. The blueprints are... different. You need to look at them now."
Intrigued by the assistant's seriousness, the Director nodded. "I'll go to the side room. Keep Aris happy."
He leaned over to Aris. "Old Aris, duty calls. I have a small administrative fire to put out. I'll be back before the test starts."
Aris waved him off dismissively, his eyes fixed on his magnificent ballista.
The Director followed his assistant into a small, soundproofed office adjacent to the testing grounds. The assistant double-checked the hallway before closing the door and locking it.
"What is so mysterious that we have to hide like thieves?" the Director asked.
The assistant grinned, presenting the scroll like a holy relic. "Boss, just look."
Skeptical, the Director unrolled the blueprint on the table. His eyes went to the header.
[Tier 1 Sentry Tower - Schematics]
His face fell. "Are you kidding me? A Tier 1 tower? We have hundreds of these designs! Why did you drag me away for this? I thought Sawyer found a new talent, not a historian!"
"Boss, please," the assistant urged. "Ignore the header. Look at the internal mechanisms."
"This is a waste of time," the Director grumbled, but his eyes mechanically scanned the drawing. "Sawyer must be desperate to climb the ladder if he's sending me junk like—"
His voice trailed off.
He leaned closer. His finger traced the lines of the transmission assembly.
"The external casing is standard... but this..." He squinted. "The transmission gearing... it’s incredibly compact. The friction coefficients would be negligible. The energy loss..."
His irritation evaporated, replaced by the cold focus of an engineer.
"Wait." The Director’s eyes widened as he reached the core section. "Is this... is this the power conversion unit?"
"It is," the assistant said, unable to hide his smugness. "That’s what I wanted you to see. Look at the efficiency ratings."
The Director stared at the diagram, his mouth slightly agape. "This rewrites the book on kinetic transfer. Our current conversion units struggle to hit 30% efficiency. If this design works... gods, we’re looking at 50%. Minimum. This isn't just an improvement; it's a revolution."
He ran his hand over the paper, treating it with newfound reverence. "Did Sawyer say where he got this? Who is the architect?"
"He wouldn't say," the assistant replied. "He claims the designer is a 'mysterious contact' who only works through him. Sawyer is acting as the sole middleman."
The Director studied the blueprint again, and a realization hit him. He slammed his hand on the table.
"That crafty old fox!" he swore, though there was a note of admiration in his voice. "Sawyer played us. Look! He gave us the assembly guide and the transmission layout, but the core—the actual fabrication schematics for the converter itself—is missing! It’s a black box. We can assemble it, but we can’t reproduce the tech without him."
Just then, a roar of excitement erupted from the testing grounds outside.
"Damn, I lost track of time!" The Director rolled up the blueprints and shoved them into the assistant's chest. "Guard these with your life. Tell Sawyer nothing yet—let him sweat. I need to see if Aris’s ballista actually works. If it does, we’ll have leverage when we return to Redrock Bastion."
He threw the door open and sprinted back to the crowd.
At the testing site, Dr. Aris stood before the completed Penetrator Ballista like a ringmaster. The massive weapon loomed behind him, menacing and ready.
"Ladies and gentlemen!" Aris bellowed, gesturing to the array of targets—thick cowhide, iron sheets, and alloy blocks. "Thank you for witnessing history! To demonstrate my absolute confidence, we will not follow a standard protocol. Instead, I want to play a game!"
He scanned the crowd, his eyes gleaming with theatrical flair.
"I will select a lucky volunteer from the audience to decide the testing order! Wood, iron, alloy—it doesn't matter! My creation will crush them all!"
The crowd cheered, eager to participate. Being chosen by the Chief Designer was a golden ticket; a chance to network, to impress, maybe even secure an apprenticeship.
"Get ready!" Aris shouted. He closed his eyes, grabbed a ceremonial silk ball from a tray, and tossed it high over his shoulder into the throng of spectators.
The crowd surged, hands reaching out desperately.
The Director, breathless from his sprint, rounded the corner and jogged into the edge of the crowd just as a colorful blur descended from the sky.
Thwack.
The silk ball hit him square in the chest. Instinctively, he grabbed it.
The cheering died instantly.
The workers and junior designers stared at the Director, their faces falling.
"Oh come on! The Director caught it?"
"What a waste! He doesn't need the networking!"
"Rigged! That was totally rigged! He walked in right as Aris threw it. They must be in cahoots!"
The Director stood there, panting, clutching the silk ball while the crowd muttered in disappointment. He looked up at the podium, where Aris was beaming, oblivious to the awkward tension.
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