Towering above had been Lloyd, who was going through an emotional rollercoaster. From joy to despair, to ecstasy and doom, nothing spared him from the ever-increasing stakes that this battle represented. Yet, he could only lament, lament about his immense lack of ability…
Why was he so useless? This brought up a lot of memories of his past, a time when he had power but didn't seek it.
While a mere and young scholar, he had undeniably wielded an influence that rippled through the corridors of power with unanticipated gravity. His groundbreaking contributions to rocketry, firearm engineering, and energy production had inadvertently positioned him as a pivotal figure in the geopolitical landscape. This influence was of course most pronounced in his unintentional sway over the U.S. military, which found itself increasingly navigating a world reshaped by his intellect. The Department of Defense, a bastion of strategic might and defense, found its very foundations shaken by his innovations, as his advancements in weapon technology, initially conceived in the pursuit of knowledge, inadvertently set new deterrence standards.
High-ranking officers, veterans of both strategic planning and combat, were also acutely aware that their most sophisticated tactics and arsenals were becoming nigh obsolete in the face of his genius, each new development from his laboratory being met with a mix of awe and strategic recalibration, as military leaders pondered about their implications. In the different branches of the Government, his influence was equally profound, albeit more nuanced. Politicians, often engrossed in the dance of power and policy, found themselves considering the ramifications of his existence on national and international policy. And paradoxically, his detachment from the pursuit of power only intensified his influence. He was neither a lobbyist pressing for legislative change, nor a political donor with a vested interest; he was a scholar, motivated purely by his own greed for recognition. This disinterest in all spheres of power instead elevated his stature in the eyes of those who wielded it. High-placed individuals from every circle treaded cautiously around him, recognizing that his scientific pursuits could unintentionally shape or dismantle their agendas.
And yet, Lloyd remained largely oblivious to the seismic impact he was having on the world stage, his focus singularly fixed on his research and discoveries. To him, his laboratory was a sanctuary where the games of politics were irrelevant and distant echoes, for his passion for the unknown was untainted by desires for influence or control, therefore making him an unintentional architect of change. But this obliviousness also added a layer of complexity to his interactions with those wielding said power.
Meetings with government officials, often seeking his counsel or attempting to gauge his intentions, were met with a disarming indifference to the implications of his work, his responses instead always grounded in scientific fact and potential, devoid of any strategic or political considerations.
To the public, he was a figure shrouded in mystique — a modern-day wizard whose creations could alter the course of history. Yet, to those who understood the true extent of his impact, he was a paradox: a man whose quest for knowledge inadvertently placed him at the center of power, a scientist whose discoveries could shake the foundations of nations and armies alike. In this intricate web of influence and ignorance, he had continued his work, unaware of the delicate balance his presence imposed upon the world.
His legacy, unbeknownst to him, had not just been the technological leaps benefitting Humanity, but the subtle yet profound way he had altered the dynamics of power, challenging the mightiest of institutions to adapt to a world forever changed by his mind. And only during this crisis did he realize that the power he so desperately sought was already in hands, although too oblivious and cowardly to wield it. In the end, his only crime had been his unselfishness, ultimately costing the lives of those close to him and leading him here, to a situation that threatened to mirror his past.
And as if the Universe had decided to mock him even further, he once again saw Alexander fall to his knees, his body breaking down. He had believed, or at least hoped, that his evolution would be enough to stave away the mercenary, but in vain.
Time seemingly stopped, as vivid flashbacks began to invade his mind, as if shaming him for wasting this unbelievable second chance.
Anxiety, regret, despair, powerlessness…
A torrent of emotions surged from his stomach, paralyzing his brain and making the walls of his psyche crumble, his self slowly degrading into an empty shell.
Was this truly how it ended?
He still had so much more to learn from Alexander, whose legacy dubbed him the unparalleled Conqueror. This man, who echoed through the annals of time, had woven an empire across three continents within the fleeting span of a decade, making him the perfect mentor and advisor.
But even simpler than that: would he just idle by while this legendary figure, no, his subordinate, teetered on the edge? What about the choices he had made so far? Would his future remain bright, or would he become a failure?
No… It simply couldn't happen. This wasn't a world bound by the rigid laws of Earth. This was Arcadia, a world where the impossible became possible. After all, hadn't he already bent dimensions with his inventory?
At that moment, he felt like his brain let go of its self-imposed shackles, finally leaving behind the last terrestrial barriers as it expanded to all that was theoretically possible. His heartbeat, which had been frantic, suddenly became calm, now an undisturbed and peaceful oasis. Rarely had he ever felt so serene, enlightening him of his next course of actions.
As Rudy began to raise his swords to end the fight, Christopher's mind raced as he contemplated the mechanics of his next action: quantum teleportation through the medium of magic. This was a feat that defied the laws of classical physics, transforming this into a delicate dance on the razor's edge of possibility. He closed his eyes before drawing in a deep breath, his thoughts coalescing into a focused point of intent. Quantum teleportation, as he theorized, was no mere physical displacement, but a complex interaction between the observer and observed, which were entangled at the quantum level. It was the ultimate expression of the uncertainty principle, where the act of observation itself altered the outcome. In his mind, he visualized the quantum fields that underlay the fabric of reality, a tapestry of probabilities and wave functions. He saw himself not as a distinct entity, but as a cloud of potentialities, a spectrum of possibilities spanning the distance between his current location and intended destination.
As he synthesized the spell around modern quantum mechanics, he felt the very essence of his being loosen, his particles entangling with the quantum state of the space on the battlefield. It was a sensation of unraveling and reforming, of being simultaneously nowhere and everywhere. The platform, the sounds of the arena, the sky above – all began to blur into a maelstrom of colors and sounds, an abstract representation of reality breaking down at its most fundamental level. His consciousness floated in this quantum soup, as it navigated the probabilistic currents with the precision of a master sailor braving a tempestuous sea while focusing on the location he needed to materialize between Alexander and Kask. It was a delicate maneuver, requiring not just scientific acumen but an intuitive understanding of the ebb and flow of the quantum world. He had to emerge at the exact moment, at the precise spot, to prevent the catastrophic outcome that loomed over the former King.
With a final mental push, he solidified his intention, collapsing the wave function into a single reality. A swirling vortex of light and sound then coalesced, resulting in himself materializing between the two fighters below, the clamor of war abruptly replacing the silent void of quantum space. In response, the mercenary's blades, poised to deliver their final and incapacitating strokes, were momentarily arrested in surprise.
But without missing a beat, the engineer then transitioned to the immediate necessity: neutralizing the threat of Rudy's twin swords. The next spell he wanted to cast was one of extreme elemental manipulation, a test of his mastery over the fundamental forces of nature.
While raising his right hand, palm facing outward towards Kask's blades, his fingers splayed as conduits for the magical energy he was about to unleash. The air around his hands began to shimmer with heat, visible waves of energy radiating from his fingertips. He had mentally envisioned the molecular structure of steel, imagining the lattice of iron and carbon atoms. He knew that by injecting energy into their arrangement, he could increase the vibrational energy of the atoms, effectively raising the temperature of the metal. But this wasn't mere conjuration of fire or heat; it was a precise, controlled escalation of atomic motion to a degree that normal physical conditions could never achieve. After all, too much energy too quickly, and the swords might melt or vaporize, potentially harming the mercenary, but too little, and they would not reach the critical point necessary for the next phase. A second passed before Kask's swords began to glow, first a dull red, then brightening to an orange, and finally a searing white-hot. The surrounding air distorted with the intense heat, and Rudy, caught by surprise, struggled to maintain his grip on the hilts that now burned with an unearthly light.
With the swords now superheated to the brink of their tolerance, Lloyd swiftly shifted his focus onto the concept of absolute zero, the theoretical point at which all atomic motion ceased. Drawing upon his remaining strength, he reversed the flow of energy, now pulling away heat at a rate that defied natural thermodynamics, making this phase even more challenging. Rapidly cooling metal that had been superheated to such an extreme degree required atomic control to prevent unpredictable reactions, something he was wary of. But despite the involvement of magic, it appeared that some laws were immutable, as the energy extracted settled into his hand before making it hotter, to the point that even flames began to emerge from his fingertips, making him painfully grimace.
At the same time, the swords, which had been glowing white-hot moments ago, were now frosted over, a sheen of ice coating their surface. The rapid temperature change had caused the metal to contract violently, the molecular structure unable to withstand the stress of such extreme and sudden fluctuations. This caused microscopic fractures to form and quickly spread throughout the blades, with the final phase consisting of Lloyd pushing them past their breaking point.
With his hand still containing a lot of energy, he then re-directed it at the swords while targeting the fractures, making them shatter into countless pieces, the fragments turning to dust before they could even hit the ground. With his task finally complete, he lowered his hand, panting while fatigue enveloped him, these spells clearly too much for his current self to handle.
Meanwhile Kask, now disarmed and bewildered, stood frozen, his attack nullified in only one second by the young merchant's magic. This otherworldly display of power had not just been a testament to Christopher's prowess as a magician, but also to his deep understanding of the natural world. He had manipulated the very essence of matter while bending the laws of physics through the force of his will and knowledge. At that moment, on the battlefield, Christopher Lloyd had blurred the line between both the magical and scientific realms, showing that in the hands of a master, they were but two sides of the same coin.
In the aftermath, an eerie silence had descended upon the Sanguis, as the eyes of thousands were fixated on him, the enigma who had, until this pivotal moment, masqueraded as a mere foreign merchant. Their minds simply grappled with the reality of what they had just witnessed, needing time for his intervention to fully sink in. But among the stunned silence, one figure stirred, its indignation cutting through the stillness like a knife.
Michael DeLoris, as the supervisor and chairman of the event, rose from his seat high above the arena with a face twisted from fury and disbelief. He was accustomed to the obedience and respect that his position commanded, making this incident unfathomable. Such an overt defiance of the rules and traditions of the Sanguis, in his very presence, was an affront he could not tolerate.
His voice was a thunderclap of anger when it broke the reigning silence.
"This is an illegal interference!"
His words echoed off the walls, reaching every ear in the vast assembly.
"Christopher Lloyd, you have defied the sacred rules of this arena. You have intervened in a contest of honor and strength with sorcery and trickery. You have lost the fight!"
The crowd, distracted by the unfolding drama, erupted into a disordered cacophony. Some shouted in support of DeLoris, their sense of tradition offended, while others were in awe at the sheer power and skill displayed by this unassuming merchant, their voices rising in a mixture of admiration and disbelief.
Meanwhile, the engineer below felt the weight of every gaze upon him. He had known about the risks that'd come from his actions, but the imperative had been to save Alexander. He then looked up at the chairman, his expression calm yet resolute, with no illusions about the seriousness of his situation. The Sanguis was more than just a coliseum; it was a symbol of order and tradition, a sacred ground where the outcomes of battles were respected as the will of the gods. By intervening, Christopher had challenged more than just a man or a rule; he had challenged the very foundation upon which this institution stood. Yet, within him, there was no regret. His decision, though throwing him into the heart of controversy, had been driven by a higher purpose. He had acted not for glory or for personal gain, but to preserve a chance at a grand future, one that required the General by his side.
As the voices of the crowd continued to swell around him, he knew that he had stepped into the annals of history, and now had to navigate the treacherous waters of its consequences.