Luther Ackerman stood before the polished projection screen, the Illuminate Vortex prototype spinning in intricate holographic detail behind him.
It was a feat of engineering, at least in his eyes, a compact generator encased in a titanium-carbon alloy, designed to harness energy from the deep-sea thermal and bioluminescent ecosystems. His calculations were airtight. His vision was revolutionary.
But the smirks and side glances in the room said otherwise.
"This energy," he began, his voice cracking slightly, "will be generated from the deepest parts of the ocean. A region where life itself has evolved to create light in total darkness, a phenomenon we've barely begun to understand."
"These organisms survive under crushing pressures by utilizing natural, self-sustaining energy. What I'm proposing is not just the next step in renewable power but a global breakthrough."
He stepped closer to the projection, pointing to the glowing vortex at the center of his diagram. "The Illuminate Vortex will harness that same principle, drawing energy from bioluminescent reactions and hydrothermal vents. It won't just power America. It won't just power Europe. It will power the world. This is energy for everyone."
He paused for dramatic effect, letting the idea sink in. "No power grids. No fossil fuels. No electricity bills. If refined, this energy could even be free for all."
The silence in the room was deafening. Then came the scoff.
"Mmhm," said Edmund Pretz, the Nobel Prize-winning head of the project, leaning back in his chair with a sardonic grin. "And you think the government wants that?"
Luther bristled. "Why wouldn't they?"
"Because," Pretz said, rising to his feet, "the government doesn't want free energy. It wants taxable energy. Profitable energy. Do you think they're going to invest billions of dollars into a system that dismantles their economic control?"
He shook his head, chuckling. "Your idea is volatile, Ackerman. A volatile theory from a volatile scientist. It's untested, unfeasible, and, frankly, a waste of everyone's time."
"This," said Edmund Pretz, laughing "is why we don't let Ackerman pitch ideas anymore."
The murmurs of agreement around the room were like nails in Luther's coffin. He stared at Pretz, his fists clenching at his sides. "But-"
"Thank you for your presentation," Pretz said, cutting him off. "This meeting is adjourned."
The room emptied quickly, his colleagues whispering to each other as they filed out. Some didn't bother hiding their amusement. Others just avoided eye contact.
Luther stayed behind, staring at the hologram of his invention. The Illuminate Vortex spun lazily in the air, its glowing core mocking him with its potential.
Hours later, the lab was empty, and Luther was still at his workstation. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead as he hunched over the prototype, his hands moving with practiced precision.
The device was small, no larger than a briefcase, but its potential was enormous. If he could just make it work, if he could prove them wrong, the Illuminate Vortex could change the world.
He adjusted the gyroscopes, ensuring the stabilization system was finely tuned. The submersible jet it would be mounted on needed to be lightweight yet durable, capable of withstanding the crushing pressures of the hadal zone. He'd been tweaking the design for weeks, and tonight he was certain he'd finally nailed it.
The sharp aroma of coffee broke his concentration.
"You're still at it?" came a familiar voice.
Luther turned to see Amanda standing in the doorway, a steaming mug in her hand. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy bun, and her lab coat was slightly wrinkled, as if she hadn't bothered to leave the lab herself.
Amanda was everything he wasn't: confident, accomplished, respected. And, annoyingly, his best friend.
"Don't you have better things to do?" he muttered, turning back to his work.
Amanda smirked. "Don't be like that."
"Like what?"
"A grouch. You're too cute for that," she teased, leaning against the counter.
Luther rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."
Amanda sipped her coffee, watching him in silence for a moment. Finally, she said, "You know, this is actually a great invention. If it works, it could change history."
"But?" Luther said, not looking up.
Amanda sucked her teeth. "But it's bad for business."
He let out a bitter laugh. "That's bullshit."
"Not when the government wants taxes."
Luther spun his chair around to face her. "We're scientists, Amanda. We're supposed to be above politics. We're supposed to be making the world a better place."
She raised an eyebrow. "We're supposed to be funded, Luther. You think these labs pay for themselves? You think Pretz got his Nobel Prize by building things that didn't make someone a ton of money?"
"I don't care about the money!" Luther snapped, standing up. "This isn't about profits or politics. This is about saving the planet!"
"For a scientist, you're not very smart if you're gonna talk like that," Amanda said, smirking as she took another sip of coffee.
Luther grabbed his bag and started packing up his tools.
"Where are you going?" Amanda asked.
"Home," he muttered, slinging the bag over his shoulder.
She followed him out of the lab, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
"You know, you really need to lighten up," she said as they approached the jet dock.
"Everything sucks," Luther muttered.
Amanda grinned. "Hey, Bree, play 'Everything Sucks.'"
The onboard AI chirped to life. "Playing 'Everything Sucks' by Descendants."
"Bree, turn that off," Luther groaned as the old punk rock song blasted through the jet's speakers.
Amanda laughed, clearly enjoying his misery.
"Bree, delete that song from the system, or I'll delete you," Luther snapped.
"Such a bummer, Luther," Bree replied, her tone dripping with artificial sass.
Amanda laughed even harder as she climbed into the driver's seat. "You're impossible," Luther muttered, sliding into the passenger seat.
The jet lifted off smoothly, gliding through the night sky. Luther stared out the window, his mind racing.
They didn't understand. None of them did. The Illuminate Vortex wasn't just an invention, it was a revolution. And he wasn't going to let anyone stop him from making it a reality.
Not Pretz. Not the government. Not anyone.
The jet hummed steadily as Amanda steered it through the glowing skyline. Luther sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, lost in thought.
"They don't get it," he muttered under his breath.
Amanda glanced at him, steering the jet "Who doesn't get what?"
"Pretz, the whole scientific community, the damn government. They don't see the bigger picture. If the Illuminate Vortex works, when it works, it could change the world."
Amanda raised an eyebrow. "Or blow it up."
He shot her a glare. "You've been hanging around Pretz too much."
"Hey, I'm just saying what no one wants to say to your face," she said, shrugging. "It's an amazing idea, Luther. But it's risky, and you know it."
"Every great invention is risky," he snapped. "If people like you and Pretz stopped doubting everything, we'd be light years ahead of where we are now."
Amanda sighed and shook her head. "You're exhausting."
Luther rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. The cabin fell silent except for the soft hum of the engine.
Then it happened.
A sudden, deafening screech ripped through the air. The jet lurched violently, throwing Amanda forward in her seat.
"What the hell was that?!" she yelled, gripping the controls.
Luther scrambled to check the monitor. Red alerts flashed across the screen:
"UNIDENTIFIED ENERGY FIELD DETECTED."
"NAVIGATION SYSTEMS FAILING."
The jet shuddered as if it had struck an invisible barrier. Outside, the sky darkened unnaturally, and a strange, pulsating glow appeared on the horizon.
Amanda's voice rose in panic. "Luther, what did you do?"
"Nothing!" he shouted back, his hands flying over the dashboard in a desperate attempt to regain control. "It's not me!"
The jet spiraled downward, the glowing anomaly growing brighter with every passing second.
"Pull up!" Amanda screamed, yanking the controls.
"I'm trying!" Luther yelled, sweat dripping down his face.
The jet's alarms blared, drowning out their voices. The glow outside was blinding now, swallowing the horizon as the jet hurtled toward the ground.
In those final moments before impact, Luther caught one last glimpse of Amanda's terrified face and then everything went dark.