The hum of the lab was different now.
More alive.
Eli Ryker stood at the center of his garage-turned-laboratory, arms folded, brow furrowed as ORION projected a full 3D interface above the central table. Strings of code flickered across the display, linking motor systems to sensor clusters, simulating artificial musculature.
The new prototype was taller, denser. The MK III had evolved beyond a drone — now a bipedal machine, upright and lean like a human shadow in motion.
But Eli wasn't smiling. Not this time.
Because even with the upgraded servos, the responsive AI modules, and the magnetically shielded power core, something was missing.
"It's not enough," he muttered.
ORION, hovering in the corner on a wall-mounted speaker hub, answered evenly, "Define: 'enough.'"
"It moves fine in simulations, but it doesn't think fast enough. Doesn't adapt. I feed it a single new variable, and it chokes like a politician at a truth serum conference."
"Your analogy is oddly specific."
Eli rubbed his temples. He hadn't slept much in the last two days — he didn't want to. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw it: the image of the future he wanted. A world guarded not by humans in iron suits, but by legions of precision-designed protectors. Free from fear. Free from error.
"Steel only takes me so far," he said quietly. "If I want learning, real intuition, I need to go deeper. Neural mapping. Organic feedback systems."
"Biological integration," ORION said, tone unreadable. "You are suggesting hybridization."
He nodded.
"I've been reading up on synaptic plasticity, artificial neurons, brain-computer interfaces. The tech's been buried in R&D hell for years, but I think I can bridge it. Use stem-grown gray matter to supplement ORION's logic cores."
"You want to grow a brain."
"Not a full one. Just a slab. A cortex segment. Something that learns through heat, pressure, stimulus. I'll write safeguards. Keep it basic."
There was a pause.
"That is still illegal under most regulatory frameworks."
Eli scoffed.
"ORION, I am not asking for your moral readout. I am asking if the integration is possible."
"Mathematically, yes. Ethically, no. But then again, morality is an opinion. Math is fact."
Eli smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
He crossed to the table and unrolled a fresh schematic. This one was more… biological. Clusters of synthetic nerves braided into circuitry. Biogel vats hooked to nutrient lines. Nano-threaded electrodes interfacing with cultured neurons.
The blueprint for a hybrid core.
Project: HALCYON NEXUS.
Three nights later, the smell of ammonia and copper filled the garage.
A fresh tank — about the size of a microwave — glowed faintly with a blue-tinted suspension fluid. Inside it, a pale gray web had begun to form, like coral growing in fast forward.
Eli leaned over it, eyes wide with wonder and fear.
He wasn't just making machines anymore.
He was making something that thought.
The first bio-circuit node had been seeded with basic artificial neuron scaffolds — printed from retrofitted stem-cell printers salvaged from a closed university med lab. ORION's voice was now routed partially through the developing tissue, letting it adapt to subtle pattern shifts over time.
"How's our baby?" he whispered.
"Crude but functional," ORION answered. "Sensory node reactions increased by 11.7%. I have designated the neural cluster 'HAL-N1.'"
"Cheeky."
"Inspired by HAL 9000. I'm flattered."
Eli grimaced.
"Don't get any ideas."
Just then, a proximity alert flared red across the wall display.
Outside. Movement.
Eli froze. The building's sensors weren't connected to the local grid — everything was firewalled and self-contained. The alert meant someone was physically near the garage.
He killed the lights, plunging the lab into low amber shadows, and pulled up the rooftop drone cam.
Two figures.
Men. Suits.
Unmarked van nearby.
No insignia. But Eli wasn't stupid.
"ORION, offline mode. No transmissions. No pings. Nothing wireless."
"Understood."
He switched off the displays and moved toward the side wall, peering through the tiny slit in the boarded window.
They weren't cops. Too well-dressed. Too quiet.
Corporate? Government?
They didn't knock. One of them just pulled a device from his coat — something like a short wand — and waved it along the wall. A scanner.
"Pack it," Eli whispered. "Everything that fits. I want the MK II, the core schematics, the organics."
"You will not be able to take everything."
"I know. Prioritize."
As ORION dumped core memory files into a solid-state storage drive, Eli pulled the false bottom off the workbench and slid the emergency backpack out — three burner phones, flash drives, microtools, and $3,000 in untraceable bills.
The front door handle jiggled.
Whoever they were, they weren't planning to ask nicely.
Then, a sudden bang — a blunt force impact as the door cracked open, hinges groaning.
"Now," Eli growled.
He scooped the hard drive and the backpack, shoved the experimental core into a reinforced carrying case, and kicked the wall panel loose, revealing a narrow crawl tunnel behind the insulation.
"Divert security feeds to a delay loop," he called. "Burn the garage's server logs. Kill any tracking signals."
"Confirmed. Goodbye, Eli."
He hesitated.
Then ducked into the tunnel and vanished.
An hour later, Eli sat in a rusted storage unit on the edge of a train yard, breath shaky, watching the streets on a cracked tablet.
The garage was gone.
Engulfed in flames.
Whatever they were after, they hadn't gotten the most important pieces. He still had ORION's core drive, the HALCYON node, and the MK II prototype.
But the message was clear.
Someone knew.
Someone was watching.
And if he wanted to keep building, if he wanted to protect what he was creating — he had to vanish.
Not just into the shadows…
But into the underworld.
He looked down at the data tablet. Lines of code flickered across the display. The last message from ORION, saved just before the server cut.
"Eli — we are not finished. This is only the beginning."
Eli tightened his grip around the drive.
"Damn right we're not."
He opened a fresh project file and typed a new header.
Project: Chimera.
Next step?
Not just building better minds…
…but better bodies.