Asher shut the door behind him and turned the lock. His gaze darted briefly around the room before settling on his bed. He stepped over, turned, and let himself fall back onto the mattress, his mind immediately awash with the information that had made its presence known.
The protest in Lulen City… It was scheduled to take place on January 17th, 2034. The city recently became a hotbed for large corporations eager to break into the Vale market, so it had been flooded with foreign business interests almost overnight. Local freelancers and business owners, seeing what was coming, had organized a protest before the corporations could cement their foothold.
Their efforts had been enough to force many companies to rethink their approach, delaying several projects, including Frostvale Enterprises' planned distribution hub.
In the grand scheme of things, it hadn't been a catastrophic event. But it was significant enough to be recorded, and since it affected Frostvale Enterprises, it was something he knew in detail. That's what made his earlier slip-up all the more irritating. Letting that information slip to his father, who had no way of knowing about it yet, was a careless mistake.
"Stupid mistake," he muttered, rubbing his face and exhaling sharply.
"I'll need to be more careful next time." Still, there was something reassuring about realizing that this knowledge, though unintentional, was accessible. It was useful.
Alright, let's see…
He closed his eyes, sorting through the fragments of information. It was like unfolding a map in his mind. Each event connected to another, creating a vast web of details about Frostvale Enterprises. He could see future fluctuations in stock prices—knew when they would rise and fall, and why. He was aware of personnel changes, from entry-level employees to top executives, and the timing of retirements and replacements.
However, some pieces of the puzzle were missing. He knew, for instance, that the Lulen City protest would occur, but not the specific details of who had organized it or the size of the demonstration. The Nexus Space had only provided knowledge directly related to the company's trajectory, leaving gaps in the surrounding context.
Still, this is weird. From what I can tell, I have access to Frostvale Enterprises' entire future—fifty years' worth. I even know when I'll take over as CEO, and exactly when my parents retire. But even with all that, there's nothing in there about me ever merging my company with Frostvale.
Did I drop the idea later on? Or does something happen?
Asher sat up on the bed, resting his hands on his knees, the thought hanging heavy in his mind.
Actually… now that I think about it, is this really right? I just told my father about the protest. Even if I acted like it slipped out, there's no way he'd just brush it off. That's not who he is. If anything, he'd dig deeper. He always does. Originally, Frostvale Enterprises didn't put much effort into scouting for potential protests. That's why the construction was delayed without warning in the first place.
But if father starts looking—even a little—he should catch the early signs. He'd take precautions. But to my knowledge, there's nothing. No shift. No countermeasures. Nothing changes.
Asher didn't buy it—not for a second. And that opened up a whole different set of possibilities.
The first? That the Nexus Space is simply wrong. That the knowledge in my head is flawed—that somehow, for the first time, it made a mistake.
He immediately dismissed that idea. The Nexus Space hadn't been wrong once. Not even close. And it would be strange for it to fail now, especially considering its abilities. Mori's interest in it alone confirmed it was far beyond anything in this world.
The second possibility felt a little more plausible, but still hard to believe: that his father completely dismissed what he said. That he didn't follow up on it at all.
But that didn't sit right either. His father wasn't the type to ignore something, even if it sounded like a rumor. If there was a risk, he'd look into it—every time. No exception.
Which left the third possibility. The one Asher found most likely.
The Nexus Space didn't update its predictions after making them. Or maybe it wasn't influenced by futures that were still uncertain—still just potentials.
He'd been feeding the Nexus Space information on Frostvale Enterprises for a while now. But most of it had been after he already started forming other plans, including building his own company. Except that the company didn't exist yet. Not even a name. No foundation. Nothing concrete.
Becoming CEO of Frostvale, on the other hand, was concrete. It was public knowledge. It was written into his parents' will. Unless something happened to him, that future was locked in. Merging Frostvale with a company that technically didn't exist yet? That was nowhere near guaranteed.
And if he looked at it that way, it made sense. Right now, his father only has a gut feeling. A vague suspicion. It would take time before he decided to actually act on it, before he ordered someone to investigate Lulen City or start checking for signs of an organized protest.
I'm still not completely sure if the Nexus Space sees fixed futures, as in, once a prediction is made, that version of the future is locked in, no matter what I do to alter the present.
Or, maybe it just hasn't updated yet.
I've already accelerated tech development beyond what should exist right now, but the knowledge I have about Atlas's future technology hasn't changed at all. That alone suggests one of two things: either the Nexus Space only deals in static futures, or I haven't made enough of an impact yet for it to recalibrate.
And that tracks. So far, most of the tech I've worked on has been kept under wraps—shared only with a handful of people in the Atlas Military, and a few others like Weiss or Whitley. Nothing that would shift the world at large. And, now that I think about it, every major piece of technology I've developed with the Nexus Space's help has been based on public knowledge.
Sure, your average person might understand the components behind a standard weapon. But who's to say a better, more efficient version hasn't already been developed in secret? That sort of tech wouldn't be public domain. And if it's not public, then the Nexus Space, which looked into the future of publicly available technology, probably wouldn't reflect it.
Which could be exactly what's happening now.
If my advancements are classified—exclusive to high-clearance military circles—then even if they're being used, they won't change the broader trajectory. They won't become public milestones. Meanwhile, all of my breakthroughs have been based on general, documented tech. I took those foundations and built something better.
There wasn't some hidden blueprint I copied to create the Insurgent Armor. No stolen schematic for the Predator Rounds either. I designed them myself, leveraging only the more advanced components and theories from the future, not the final products.
Running a hand through his hair, Asher let out a low sigh.
"Either way… I'm going to need to do more testing to figure it out." Because two possible paths lay ahead of him.
One possibility was that the Nexus Space's predictions were fixed—static. And based on everything he knew about Frostvale Enterprises, those predictions seemed to cap out around fifty years into the future.
Asher's eyes narrowed as the implications of that flashed through his mind.
In that scenario, once he brought every known technological advancement from the future into the present, that would be it. Nothing more to extract. Any future breakthroughs beyond that point would be his responsibility—built from scratch, using only the raw knowledge the Nexus Space had already stored.
In other words, there was a limit. Fifty years' worth of insight—then the rest would be up to him.
It wasn't the worst future. Even with that cap, he'd still be ahead of everyone else by half a century. He'd still retain his perfect memory, still have access to the internal storage system the Nexus Space gave him. But the ability to keep peering further forward—to gain more future developments—would vanish.
Then there was the second possibility.
The Nexus Space's future could change. It could update—if the impact he made was significant enough.
In this scenario, let's say he took something like exoskeleton technology and popularized it globally. The future knowledge would then shift. The version of that technology that would originally emerge decades from now would already exist in the present, and that would push the technological frontier even further.
If his limit used to be fifty years, now it could become a hundred.
And if he continued accelerating development, spreading advancements worldwide, maybe even more—one hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred years into the future. An endless loop. Push the present forward, and the future stretches out with it. A cycle of innovation feeding foresight.
That scenario aligned far better with his long-term goals.
He had no plans to hoard technology forever. There was no such thing as a one-man empire. Keeping everything to himself would only spark resentment, eventually turning into resistance. That's why he planned to release things gradually—not just to the Atlas Military, but to the world.
Still, all of it was just theory. He needed proof. A test.
And he already had one in mind.
With how often Weiss and I spar, her fighting style knowledge has nearly reached a hundred percent. I've thought about this before—if I teach Weiss her own style, using knowledge that's beyond what she currently knows, beyond even the supposed hundred percent... would that new version become her new baseline?
And if it does, would the "beyond hundred percent" stretch even further? Now, he had a real reason to find out—one that went beyond curiosity.
Reaching into his pocket, Asher pulled out his scroll, tapped it awake, and flicked through his contacts until he found the group chat with Weiss and Whitley.
[Group Chat—He with even Whiter Hair (GCM), She with White Hair, Asher F]
Asher F: You two online?
Asher waited for a minute or so until he saw the notification that Whitley was typing.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): I am. Weiss is still in the middle of her ballet lessons, one of the few things she still takes seriously.
Asher F: Oh, okay. I was just going to ask if she had the weekend off.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): Well, if I'm being entirely honest, I doubt it really matters. I'm pretty sure she would make time for you whenever. (◔_◔)
Asher F: Speaking of that, you didn't really do the whole protective brother thing when you found out we were together. Subverting the genre?
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): Not really, our relationship is still kind of new. Didn't want to risk pushing things too far. Besides, she fell hard, I doubt anything I would say would make a difference. ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯
Asher F: So you basically gave up before trying.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): That's right. Plus, I trust you. If you can build a tank in your workshop, which I'm fairly confident you could, then you can handle not breaking my darling sister's heart. Of course, if you did, I would have to inform Winter and reevaluate our business relationship.
Asher F: Interesting. Snitching and mixing your personal life with business, you two really have gotten closer.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): Life's just weird that way. (¬‿¬)
Asher F: Sure, let's go with that. Anyway, just tell her anytime this weekend works for me. I want to spar with her, no aura or exoskeleton.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): I mean, she's going to see these messages anyhow, but alright. Still, is that a good idea? You just got out of the hospital not too long ago.
Asher F: I'll be fine. I've technically already healed. The Doctor is just being cautious. Besides, a little exercise will be good for my body.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): Well, if you say so. I'll tell her.
Asher F: Thanks. I'll see you later.
He with even Whiter Hair (GCM): Wait, why did you ask if both of us were online if you didn't even want to talk to me about anything? ( ô ‸ ō )....?????
--|
Asher didn't respond as he closed out of the group chat.
That's that handled. The Insurgency's first mission shouldn't overlap with the weekend, so I'll be killing two birds with one stone before the week is over.
"You know, you really are good at this. Shame you missed a small detail, though."
The instant Asher heard that familiar, childish voice—the one that could only belong to one person—he jumped off the bed, eyes narrowing as he scanned the room. His gaze swept every corner, sharp and focused. But after a few seconds, he didn't spot anyone.
"Where are you, Mori? I'm not playing hide and seek with you today," he called out, noting that time hadn't stopped like it usually did when Mori appeared.
"Well, first of all, I'm hurt you don't want to play with me," Mori replied, his voice laced with exaggerated disappointment.
"But second… I'm not hiding. Look down." Frowning, Asher glanced down at his scroll.
There, displayed on the screen, was none other than Mori—except in the form of a low-poly 3D model, like something ripped from a budget video game. He was seated in a blocky chair beside a table inside an even worse-rendered room, where some textures weren't even modeled—just flat, static images pasted in the background.
Asher reacted on instinct. He hurled the scroll toward the wall. But the moment it left his hand, just barely a meter out, it vanished.
"You really shouldn't throw your things, Asher," Mori teased.
"Your parents paid good money for this scroll." Asher blinked. The scroll was back in his hand, exactly where it had been, like he'd never thrown it at all.
Letting out a long breath, he resisted the urge to toss it again.
"Should I even bother asking how you got in there? Or how long you've been inside my scroll?" Mori's digital avatar laughed in a jittery, low-frame-rate cycle, his mouth animation just a simple, choppy loop of images.
"Oh, come on, Asher. You should know by now…" Mori grinned, the pixels on his face warping slightly as he leaned forward.
"I can do anything I want."