Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]
2.17 Design Schematics

I eat heartily. A three-egg omelet with cheese and bacon is but an appetizer before I devour four large griddle cakes covered in maple syrup and six summer sausage patties. Sadly not the real, pure syrup. Too hard to find while human civilization is still trying to figure out how to reshape itself following the apocalypse. At least the System decided to show us enough mercy to keep our basic food supply chains intact, if only by threads and duct tape.

Once I’ve thoroughly destroyed all of the food laid before me and taken a trip to the ladies’ room, we make our way to the home of the university’s college of science and technology. The doors are locked when we arrive. But after a couple of knocks, a young man little older than I— a student on work-study, I presume— unlocks the door and beckons us in.

He stares at my lack of a left arm for a bit too long. I do briefly consider asking if he’d like to have a stub of his own, but I know that would be somehow even more impolite. In either case, we’re soon joined by a man who I’d call distinguished, if not for the fact that he’s wearing sandals, capri-length shorts, and a Hawaiian-style shirt, of all things. Somehow, against all sense, the man actually makes it work. I can’t help but wonder if he has some sort of fashion-related capital-S, System-derived Skill that causes him to pull off an appearance that actively spits in the face of everything I thought I knew about fashion.

He greets us with a smile and an outstretched hand. An outstretched left hand. I hope this isn’t some subtle attempt to mock me. Thankfully, he realizes his mistake the next moment and offers his right hand, shaking each of ours in turn as he introduces himself.

“Hello, ladies,” he says. “Dr. Martin Winfield, Professor of Robotics here at the State University. I heard from some folks with the army yesterday that you were looking for my assistance with something about a robotic arm? I’m afraid I didn’t get a lot of details.”

Dr. Martin… I don’t suppose he’s like me? No, the two doctors look nothing alike, while I look quite similar to the old Seraphina. Just a coincidence.

Chloe pulls the robotic arm out of her bag and hands it to the professor. “We found this robotic arm in one of the towers that sprouted up shortly after the System arrived. We were hoping you could help us analyze what it does and how it works, and maybe help out with whatever implants you can design to help my friend Sera turn it into a prosthetic for herself.”

He furrows his brows a bit at the request, but to his credit, he doesn’t bat an eye when Chloe mentions where we got it. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be able to give the three of you. Most of my work is more on the programming side than the actual construction. I have a colleague who should be arriving in about an hour or so. She might be better equipped to help you with your request. Although I still wouldn’t get your hopes up too high.”

I nod. “Actually, I think your area of expertise will be extremely relevant. It has to do with the glyphs and runes that operate and modulate this sort of technology. Is there a classroom or laboratory of some sort with a whiteboard? I can try to explain what I mean, but I think it’d be easier to do somewhere that’s not in the middle of the lobby.”

He chuckles. “Of course, of course. Would any of you like some coffee or water to drink?”

All three of us decide on water as we make our way to one of the classrooms not too far from the front of the building. As he heads to grab his stuff, I pull out my sketchbooks and, to the best of my ability, start trying to draw the glyphs I think will be best suited to the task at hand.

The glyphs of [Repulsion] and its inverse, alongside with the [Impulse] glyph, should, in tandem, be able to simulate most forms of movement. I also start tracing glyphs on the whiteboard that I believe to be basic logic glyphs, along with the individual runes that might— based on Dr. Reynolds’s research— be associated with the basic conjunctions of ‘and’, ‘or’, and ‘not’. They carry no intrinsic physical meaning, and I’ve not been able to find out how these specific runes can be used in [Glyphcasting], but I suspect that they’ll be far more powerful in this domain.

Dr. Winfield arrives along with another student. This one is a younger man, closer to Lindsey’s age than Chloe’s and mine. He introduces himself as Dr. Winfield’s graduate research assistant, Patrick, and takes a seat next to the professor.

I begin going over the basics of glyphs, how they function, and the general principles of Ethertech that I’ve been able to establish to this point.

To his credit, the professor seems intensely interested in my theories, the work I’ve done with Dr. Reynolds, and the project as a whole. He’s taking notes intently, nodding along, and asking some of the most insightful questions I’ve heard. More than once I’m forced to admit that I don’t know something, and each time, he invites me to conjecture and speculate based on my current knowledge.

Lindsey gives him a bit of a stink eye that he doesn’t notice. Different professions, different viewpoints. Chloe is doing her best to be attentive for my sake, but I can see her glazed eyes and tell from her blank expression that all of this is going over her head. Patrick is doing his best to keep up, and doing a decent job of it, especially toward the latter half of what ends up being a two hour lecture.

About the time I finish up, a woman of perhaps thirty-five walks in. She’s startled a bit to see us here, and stands against the side wall. I can’t tell if she’s interested in my glyphs and theories, or just irritated that the five of us have occupied her classroom. When a student who looks much like Chloe pops in half a minute later, I assume it’s the latter.

As I’m erasing the board— as best as possible single-handed— I overhear the two professors chatting with one another.

“I’m sorry, Cynthia. I’ve been asked by some folks to help out with an interesting project, and what I thought was going to be a one-hour speech and some vague concepts of plans ended up turning into a two hour discussion on brand new technologies that Miss Sera over there found while exploring dungeons and Towers.”

Cynthia sighs. “Martin, I know you’re prone to excitability at times like these, but I must beg your pardon. Just because there’s monsters attacking outside doesn’t mean that the world stops turning or that classes stop and society suddenly breaks down.”

I roll my eyes, my back still turned to the quarreling professors. This Cynthia sounds a lot like Chloe’s mother, in voice as well as general demeanor. A no-nonsense sort of woman who’s made sacrifices to make a career in a male-dominated area, and whose tolerance for bullshit borders on the nonexistent. I can’t help but feel a little bad for her. In another time and place, I could have ended up down a very similar path of my own.

“I think you would be interested in hearing more, but I understand.” Professor Winfield nods and heads out. I finish grabbing my stuff, with Chloe having to help me get everything packed away. I nod to Professor Cynthia, but as I turn toward the door, she stops me.

“That arm you put away,” she says.

“I’d like to modify it for my own purposes, or somehow reverse engineer a new one for myself. As it is, my ability to hold off another slate of monsters like the ones from yesterday is… greatly diminished.”

Greatly diminished is an understatement. I can swing a sword, but no buckler and no second hand makes me more susceptible to the sort of heavy blows that might knock me out of my stance. I can hardly use my [Modular Blowgun] as I am, and my [Glyphcasting] speed is maybe forty percent of what it was before. Truly a lamentable predicament to be overcome.

Nevertheless, Dr. Winfield seems more than willing to continue to assist. We make our way down to some hybrid between a laboratory and a workshop. A couple dozen contraptions of various configurations are sprawled out in the center of the room, with several computers near the back.

There are a couple of students at one of the computers, trying and failing to be discreet as they gawk at me in all my one-armed glory. I don’t know if they like what they see, nor do I give a damn one way or the other. A flicker of [Ethersight] and the telltale azure glow of my irises directed squarely at them causes them to hide behind their computers in a panic.

“Hey, Sera,” Lindsey utters. She gives me a small thwack on my right shoulder. “Try not to scare the kids. We’re trying not to be hostile, given that we are asking for quite a bit of time and resources on fairly short notice.”

I shrug.

Dr. Winfield sits down at the fancy computer in the back that’s pretty clearly reserved for faculty work. In addition to a fancy, ergonomic chair that probably cost a thousand dollars and a second large monitor— 35 inches or so— the computer looks like it was built custom, rather than being an OEM design. He beckons me back against the wall as he opens up a program and begins typing.

His fingers move with furious abandon as various snippets of code start appearing on the page. I can’t quite make out everything that’s going on, but from the diagram that’s appearing on the second screen, it appears to be some sort of schematics for a mechanical arm. A very crude arm, but at the very least, a starting point.

“This is the baseline design for the type of prosthetic commonly used by members of the military who lose arms while in the service of our country. I’m sure your friend over there has seen these more than a few times.”

Lindsey nods.

“Now, this is the basic framework for the design that’s been used for the past four or five years. There’s been small upgrades each year as technology has marched onward, chips have gotten better and more efficient, small little incremental stuff. But I think we can start looking at some real bold innovations. No need for clunky wires, no need for all sorts of implants that try to interconnect your neurons to your implants and spend six months to a year learning how to control everything.”

He continues typing for another hour. I watch, amazed and bewildered in equal measure. Lindsey and Chloe have stepped out into the hallway, but I’m too enraptured to do more than give them a halfhearted wave as they do.

More schematics start appearing on screen, one that looks far more humanlike. It’s armored and yet flexible, with layers of plates overlapping one another like the backside of an armadillo. It’s coated in layers upon layers of glyphs, some taking up large parts of the arm like tattoos, and others so small that they’re barely macroscopic. I have no doubt that this is just a mockup of what the design might vaguely look like based on the general principles I described earlier. It’ll be weeks to design all the components, even with computer assistance. And probably weeks or even months more before it’s ready for me to actually use.

But as I look at it more and more, then glance over to my left sleeve and how it dangles idly beside my chest, I start having thoughts about my past life. What kind of technology did it take to create the original Seraphina? And then, how much more to send me through the planes of existence to be reborn here on Earth?

And yet, even with all that, they still needed to do so, for a reason I can’t wrap my mind around. Still, this is good. This is the first step toward what I need to do. I can feel it in the very core of my being.