Building a rocket is a simple thing. If I had said that in my previous world, people would have called me a fool — or worse, insane. But with the power of the CYOA, it really is easy.
With the Energy-Matter Conversion system and the Nanite Dispenser, constructing a massive rocket takes only hours. The terraformer, though… that's another story. That machine requires delicate, precise work — so much so that even Alice must dedicate her full processing power to it. But once complete, it works its magic: desert becomes grassland, dry wasteland turns into green fields.
From there, the grassland evolves into a forest, filled with fruit-bearing trees and timber durable enough for construction.
It has been two days since we unveiled the terraformer, and it has already transformed this place into a tropical paradise. All we're missing are animals, and I plan to bring them here from another world.
Maybe I should have visited a planet during its Cold War era. Why? Resources. Back then, both East and West were desperate to prove themselves. If I had offered them something useful, they would have traded me anything to push their technology ahead. Imagine it: an alien spaceship making first contact. No country would refuse. They would bend over backwards for a chance to steal futuristic tech.
It is also a perfect test for my world-traveling power. I want to see how precise the power is, and this will be a perfect way to test it.
I shake my head and push the thought away for now. My focus is on the dry dock, which I've already started building for the spaceship. It isn't the time to reveal it yet. For now, it sits hidden and will stay hidden for months before it's ready to produce the ship.
I calculate the time until I can start exploring the solar system. Four months. Maybe less, depending on the problems I run into. But soon, we'll be able to travel the void.
For now, though, I need to focus on the upcoming event.
==|Line Break|==
"Today is the day we reach for the stars! Today is the day the Faunus reach for the moon!"
I step aside so the others can get a better view of the massive rocket in the nearby facility. The hatch opens with a deep groan, and the rocket rises into view.
"Do you want to see the real thing?"
Of course they do. We head to the fifth-floor balcony, where the rocket towers in the distance. Camera shutters fire in rapid bursts as reporters capture every angle.
Through Alice, I check the internet. It's ablaze. The last attempt at space exploration was two decades ago, abandoned when humanity learned Dust didn't function outside Remnant's atmosphere. Many people think we're liars and say that we are killing fellow Faunus in this attempt. But the Faunus believe. At least, most of them. Some still doubt. We'll prove them wrong.
"Father, we're all ready to depart. All systems online."
"Perfect. Put the hologram here."
The wall flickers, and a holographic feed appears, showing the rocket's interior. Five crew members are strapped in. Each has undergone Genetic Data implantation to understand the systems and their ship. This implant contains a copy of knowledge from my brain and lets them do what I can do to the vehicle. Still, they need training because they need to get used to the knowledge I implanted—a full month of rigorous mental and physical conditioning under my and Alice's supervision. Without us, they would never have survived it.
I put on my earpiece and say.
"Owl One? Do you hear me?"
"Owl One here, loud and clear, Sir Orin."
"Run your systems check."
He flips switches, runs diagnostics, then replies.
"Control, this is Owl One. Systems check complete. All green on our end."
"Copy that, Owl One. Confirming telemetry… yes, green across the board. Fuel stable. Guidance locked."
"Roger. Standing by for the countdown."
I take out my data pad and say.
"You are clear to launch. Begin countdown at T-minus thirty."
"Roger. Countdown starting."
The control room echoes with voices counting in unison. Alice's android assistants fill every station, watching from the bunker. Another voice cuts in.
"Control to Owl One. Final weather sweep complete. Skies clear."
"Appreciate it, Control. Nothing is stopping us now."
"Not unless you change your mind," I joke. A chuckle comes back. "Not a chance, sir. We've been waiting too long for this."
"T-minus ten seconds."
I can hear them checking the system one more time and hear voices from the speaker.
"All stations, mark."
"Engines primed."
"Hydraulics stable."
"Guidance online."
"Launch clamps secure."
"Owl One, confirm cabin integrity."
"Cabin sealed. Oxygen steady. Crew secured."
"Copy. Stand by for ignition."
The ground rumbles.
"Five… four… three… two…"
"Owl One, ignition sequence start."
"Engines firing—pressure rising—she's alive!"
The rocket roars skyward.
"Control, this is Owl One. Airborne and climbing. Preparing to leave the atmosphere."
On my data slate, I watch the Mass Effect field flare around the rocket, bending inertia to speed its ascent. I can see them leaving the atmosphere, and in five minutes, they reach orbit.
"Control, approaching stage separation."
"Copy, Owl One. You're clear to discard the main rocket."
"Roger. Separation sequence in three… two… one… disengage."
The hologram switches views — the discarded stage tumbles away as shuttle thrusters ignite.
"Ion thrusters online. Fusion core stable. Engaging Gravion Field."
Blue bubbles shimmer around the shuttle, bending physics itself.
"Copy that. Projected arrival in seven hours."
A crewman chuckles. "We'll be landing before dinner."
The pilot turns around and gives a mean glare to his co-pilot.
"Focus."He then talks to me. "We're entering the Debris Field, Sir Orin."
"Copy that. Careful out there, Owl One."
"Of course, sir."
The shuttle weaves through jagged chunks of moon. Some crash against the shimmering field, deflected harmlessly.
"Starboard, twenty degrees!"
The pilot jerks the controls, threading the craft between two boulders the size of city blocks. Calm, precise. His training shows as he makes the vehicle dance around the debris.
The closer they get, the bigger the debris — more asteroid belt than pieces of broken moon.
"Bearing 245, down five."
"Throttle steady, keep it slow!"
"Correction left, now!"
Hours pass as the shuttle dances through the field. Nobody leaves the viewing hall. More arrive in the livestream, holding their breath. We've already proven spaceflight possible. Now we're going to do the impossible: reach the moon.
I see Ozpin gripping his chair, eyes fixed on the feed. Others lean forward, silent, rapt. Excited. Afraid. Awed.
Finally, the pilot exhales. "We're through."
He chuckles. "Remind me never to take that road again."
I tap my earpiece. "You've crossed the graveyard, Owl One. Now… prepare to land."
"Control, this is Owl One. Beginning descent."
"Copy. Telemetry locked. The whole world is watching."
Thrusters flare as the shuttle glides downward. Dust plumes billow, turning the viewport into a storm of silver ash.
"Altitude, two thousand meters. Velocity steady."
"Adjust three degrees starboard. Ridge ahead."
"Roger. Correcting."
The pilot follows the navigator's instructions and corrects the position.
"Altitude, five hundred."
"Landing site in sight. Flat basin, minimal debris."
"Engaging landing thrusters."
Engines roar in bursts. The shuttle slows.
"Altitude twenty. Ten…"
The hull groans. A jolt. Then silence.
"Contact."
The crowd erupts. The shuttle has landed on the moon. For the first time in history, we reached the moon.
History has been made. And this is only the beginning.
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