Max stood back and stared at the prototype suit in front of him. It was a marvel, yet not quite there. The metal gleamed under the fluorescent lights of his workshop, reflecting his tired eyes and the long hours spent perfecting every detail. The suit looked bulky, a patchwork of unfinished components, with wires running out from places they shouldn't be. But it was real. It was no longer just an idea or a set of blueprints. It was something tangible, something he could touch, something that, for all its imperfections, held immense potential.
"This is it... it's alive." Max whispered to himself, almost in awe of what he had accomplished. The words felt strange, surreal even, but they were true. The suit was here, it was real, and it was the closest he had ever come to bringing his father's work to life.
He took a step closer to the suit, his fingers brushing over the metal surface as if trying to understand it, to connect with it in some way. It wasn't perfect. Far from it. The joints were too stiff, and the chest plate wasn't perfectly aligned. But the core— the core was functional. The energy source, the meteorite fragment that had started all of this, hummed faintly beneath the layers of armor, sending a small thrill through Max's chest.
Max took a deep breath, his mind flashing to his father, Dr. Alexander Cole. The scientist whose footsteps he was trying to follow, yet constantly felt he was lagging behind. The road had never been easy for his father. It was never smooth sailing. Dr. Cole had faced countless obstacles, both scientific and personal, and every breakthrough had come with its own set of challenges. Max could only imagine what his father must have gone through—the pressure, the sacrifices, the loneliness.
"If he could see this... maybe he'd be proud." Max's voice cracked slightly as he said the words. It was the first time in a long while he had allowed himself to believe that. That maybe, just maybe, his father's legacy wasn't too far out of reach.
But the pressure was still there, lurking in the back of his mind. Every failure, every setback, felt like a reminder that he had yet to live up to the genius of Dr. Alexander Cole. The disappointment in his father's absence—no, the fear of living under the shadow of such greatness—had weighed on him for so long. But now... now, he had a chance to prove himself. To prove that the son of Dr. Cole could carry the torch.
Max took a deep breath and turned his attention back to the suit. "Alright," he muttered, his voice steadying. "Time to see if all this work was worth it."
He crouched down, pulling the heavy exoskeleton up toward his body. The suit was heavier than he had anticipated—much more so than it had felt when he was assembling it in pieces. Each part of it seemed to fight against him, like it didn't quite want to work with him, yet he knew it had to. He fought with the suit for a moment, adjusting it and making sure the joints locked into place as they should. The weight settled over him, making his muscles strain slightly as he adjusted to its presence.
Max stood, feeling the suit click into place. It was more than just a machine now. It was something he was wearing, something that connected him to his father's vision. Something that could change everything.
He looked around the workshop, his gaze landing on a stack of heavy objects he had set up earlier—metal crates, steel beams, anything that would test the suit's strength. It was time. Time to put his work to the test.
His heart raced in his chest, excitement and anxiety mixing together in a heady cocktail. His hands shook slightly as he reached toward a metal crate. "Here goes nothing," Max said aloud, trying to steady his nerves.
The crate was heavy—at least 200 pounds, maybe more—but with the suit's strength-enhancing capabilities, Max was certain it was nothing he couldn't handle. He gripped the edges and, with a grunt, lifted it off the ground.
For a moment, nothing happened. The suit didn't fail him. His arms didn't buckle. It was as if the weight of the crate had evaporated, and instead, Max found himself holding it with little effort. The exoskeleton hummed to life, its motors and gears working in sync with his movements.
"Yes!" He couldn't help himself. The suit worked. The strength was there, amplified by the technology he had created.
Max lifted the crate higher, a grin spreading across his face. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a spark of pride. He wasn't just some ordinary inventor anymore. He was on the verge of something huge, something that could change everything.
But the true test was yet to come. He needed more—more than just lifting crates and moving metal. Max moved toward a pile of scrap metal, ready to push the suit to its limits. He had come so far, and now, it was time to see if the suit was truly as powerful as he hoped.
"Let's see what you can do." Max's voice was low, focused. With that, he lifted the next object, pushing the suit's strength even further, the weight seeming to vanish as the suit powered through the motions.
But even as Max marveled at his success, a nagging feeling lingered in the back of his mind. It was still too early to celebrate. The suit was still a prototype. It wasn't perfect. And deep down, he knew that whatever lay ahead wasn't going to be as easy as this.
But for now, he allowed himself a moment of triumph. "It's working... and that's enough for today."
With that, Max set the crate down and took a step back. The suit had passed the first test. But he also knew that this was just the beginning.