1985: Rise of the Young Tycoon

Year 2150 Unknown Location — USA

Prelude - The Mind's Horizon

Dr. Joseph King walked with measured steps through the sterile corridors of Site Theta, the underground facility that had become his second home. The polished steel walls reflected the cold fluorescent lights above, casting sharp lines along his aging features. He had spent decades in places like this—hushed, classified laboratories where innovation was both nurtured and controlled.

The air carried a faint hum of machinery, the rhythmic pulse of computers processing terabytes of neural data. He knew every sound, every scent of this place: the synthetic sterility, the quiet murmurs of researchers lost in their work, the barely audible whispers of possibility hanging in the air.

Joseph exhaled, running a hand through his graying hair, feeling the weight of time in his bones. Sixty-five years old, yet his mind was sharper than ever. The lines on his face weren't just from age but from years of relentless pursuit—an obsession, some might say. The CognitiveAmplifier Helmet was the culmination of his life's work, an invention meant to transcend human limitations. The ability to implant knowledge, accelerate learning, and refine cognition could change the course of history.

But he hadn't started this project for history.

It had begun, like most things, from something deeply personal.

A Mind That Couldn't Be Saved

Decades ago, before the underground facilities, the military funding, and the ethical debates, there had been a hospital room. A bright-eyed girl lying in a bed too large for her frail body.

Hannah.

His daughter.

She had been ten when they first noticed the symptoms. Confusion, forgetfulness, the occasional unresponsiveness. By twelve, she could no longer recall what day it was. By thirteen, she had trouble recognizing her own father. A rare neurodegenerative disease, one that robbed the mind faster than medicine could intervene. All the knowledge, all the brilliance in the world, and he had been powerless to help her.

Hannah had slipped away before her sixteenth birthday, her once-vibrant thoughts reduced to empty stares.

That was when Joseph had vowed: never again.

No mind should wither away. Especially, for those with a long life still ahead of them. No human should have to spend years learning what could be gained in seconds. Knowledge should not be something hoarded by time.

So he had thrown himself into his work, pushing past every ethical line the world tried to draw before him. The CognitiveAmplifier would not just prevent memory loss—it would make learning obsolete. A farmer could become a surgeon in hours. A soldier could master strategy in days. A child struggling with numbers could become a mathematical genius overnight.

And now, after thirty-five years, it was working.

Today was the first live experiment.

The Laboratory – A Defining Moment

The doors to Lab Theta-09 slid open with a quiet hiss. Inside, a dozen scientists moved between monitors, machinery, and glass-walled observation rooms. At the center of the lab sat the CognitiveAmplifier Helmet, a sleek, metallic device resting on a padded chair.

A man in a medical gown—Test Subject 0057—sat patiently in that chair, electrodes lining his scalp. He was a volunteer from the research division, a bright but otherwise average analyst named Eric Nolan.

Joseph's team had spent the last year implanting small amounts of knowledge into controlled subjects—simple equations, basic vocabulary in foreign languages. But today, they would push it further. This time a full transfer of high-level engineering knowledge.

Choose from the vast library of knowledge and skills stored data inside the CognitiveAmplifier Helmet storage database.

"Vitals?" Joseph asked as he approached.

A voice to his left responded, steady and professional.

"Stable. Brain activity within expected ranges."

Dr. Elliot Graves spokes his eyes fully focused, but somewhat distance from the current events.

Unlike most of the researchers here, Graves had a relaxed air about him, an easy demeanor that set him apart from the clinical detachment of others. Tall, lean, with sharp yet oddly kind features, he carried himself like a man who belonged in a coffee shop discussing philosophy rather than in a classified government lab. His white coat was always slightly unbuttoned at the collar, his ID badge clipped at an angle as if he hadn't quite taken the time to fix it. He had a habit of tapping his fingers in rhythmic patterns against his desk—a subconscious quirk.

Graves was an expert in neurobiology and AI synchronization, a crucial member of the team. To Joseph, he seemed like an idealist—someone who believed in the potential of science but was wary of the hands that wielded it.

"And the transfer sequence?" Joseph pressed.

Graves glanced at the monitor, nodding. "Ready. Memory injection at 5% capacity. No abnormalities detected."

"Good." Joseph exhaled, turning to the team. "Let's begin."

A silent tension filled the lab. The room dimmed as the monitors flared to life, data streams cascading in real-time. The CognitiveAmplifier whirred softly, its internal processors firing as the neural sequence was initiated.

Eric's body tensed. His eyes fluttered. Electrodes pulsed against his scalp.

Seconds stretched into minutes.

Then—

"…I remember."

Eric blinked. His expression shifted from confusion to realization, as if a veil had been lifted from his mind. The world around him faded into a distant hum, overshadowed by a torrent of new information flooding through his neural pathways.

He looked at the equations on the monitor—complex formulas that intertwined seamlessly, theories of mechanics and thermodynamics that felt at once alien and intimately familiar. Somehow, he understood them, not just as symbols on a screen, but as a living language, a blueprint of the universe itself.

His heart raced. The Cognitive Amplifier had worked beyond his wildest expectations, unlocking a reservoir of knowledge that he was now able to articulate. He felt the weight of centuries of engineering wisdom, from the foundational principles of statics to the cutting-edge innovations in nanotechnology, coursing through him.

"Alright," he began, his voice steady and confident. "This equation here is the basis for calculating tensile strength. It shows how materials will react under stress. It's crucial for designing safe structures, like bridges or high-rise buildings. We can't just guess; we need precise measurements."

He gestured animatedly at the screen, his fingers tracing the lines of the equations as if conducting an orchestra. "And this one relates to fluid dynamics. It's about understanding how fluids behave in different environments, which is essential for anything from aerospace engineering to environmental science."

As he spoke, the memories of late-night study sessions and frantic cramming for exams faded away, replaced by a sense of purpose. This wasn't just knowledge; it was power. The realization hit him: he could change the course of his life, and maybe even the lives of others.

"The Cognitive Amplifier didn't just give me information—it connected me to a lineage of thinkers and innovators. I can contribute to this legacy now. I can build something that matters."

With each word, Eric felt a growing sense of responsibility. He was no longer just a student; he was part of a continuum, a bridge between the past and the future. The stakes had never been higher, but so too had the potential for greatness.

The transfer had worked.

The room erupted into muted celebration—claps on the back, murmured words of awe. Joseph allowed himself a small smile. A lifetime of work, and here it was.

But the true test had just begun. They would observe the subject for the next twenty-four hours, monitoring for cognitive strain or side effects. The real question wasn't just whether the data transfer was possible—it was whether the human mind could sustain it.

Joseph dismissed the team for the night, leaving a rotation of researchers to monitor the subject.

But some people weren't going home.

Elliot Graves, usually the most easygoing person in the room, now wore an uneasy expression as he stood in the dimly lit corridor. Shadows stretched around him, amplifying the tension in the air. "Don't worry; everything is going according to plan. I'll hand over everything you want. Just make sure you hold up your end of the deal," he said, his voice steady but laced with an underlying strain.

"Of course, there's no need for you to worry, Doctor. Just do as we agreed upon and meet us at the prearranged location," replied a voice from the shadows, smooth and confident. As the figure stepped into the faint light, Elliot was momentarily taken aback by her striking beauty. She wore glasses that framed her sharp features, and her lab coat hung elegantly over her figure. Her smile, both charming and disarming, could easily capture any man's heart—yet there was something unsettling beneath her polished exterior.

"Don't falter now, Doctor," she said, her tone playful yet edged with a hint of menace. With that, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking against the cold floor, leaving Elliot alone in the corridor.

As the sound of her footsteps faded, he clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. A storm of conflicting emotions roiled within him—fear, determination, and a sense of impending dread. This deal was more than just a transaction; it felt like a step into a darker world, one where he had to navigate treachery and deception. The weight of his choices pressed heavily on his shoulders, and the corridor, once a mundane passage, now felt like a threshold to an uncertain fate.

Hours later, under the soft glow of the lab's emergency lights, Dr. Elliot Graves sat alone in the observation room. The monitors hummed softly, displaying Eric's vitals—still stable.

But that wasn't what Graves was focused on.

With a flick of his wrist, he retrieved a small, sleek device from his coat pocket—an unregistered neural disruptor. A tool designed to temporarily overstimulate the brain's electrical impulses.

A single pulse. A minor seizure. Just enough to cause a distraction.

He exhaled, pressing the device against the observation glass.

The moment it activated, Eric Nolan's body jolted. His heart rate spiked, his muscles seizing violently.

Alarms blared.

Graves moved swiftly. While the emergency team rushed to the subject's side, he slipped out into the darkened corridor, footsteps silent against the cold floors. His destination was clear:

The data servers.

The CognitiveAmplifier prototype.

His hands clenched at his sides. He didn't want to do this. But the faces of his wife and daughter flashed in his mind—the unspoken threat that had been whispered to him through an untraceable call.

Steal the data. Deliver the prototype. Or they die.

He reached the secured door, swiping a stolen keycard—

And froze.

Joseph King stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes locked onto him.

For a moment, neither man spoke.

Then Joseph's voice, quiet but firm:

"…Going somewhere, Dr. Graves?"

Prelude: The Infiltration Begins

The night was silent above ground, but deep beneath the earth, within the heavily fortified research facility, a storm was about to unfold.

Outside, near the concealed entrance, a group of men clad in dark tactical gear crouched in the shadows. The team leader, a broad-shouldered figure with a voice like gravel, adjusted his earpiece. "Status check," he murmured.

"We're in position," came a hushed response.

Inside the facility, two embedded agents—individuals who had spent years weaving themselves into the scientific ranks—stood ready to make their move. Alongside them were five other compromised personnel, including Dr. Elliot Graves, all ensnared by threats far greater than themselves.

At the heart of the plan stood Dr. Selena Vasquez, the woman Elliot had met just hours before. She was no mere scientist; she was an undercover operative, one of the few who had managed to infiltrate the most secure levels of the base. While the others were bound by blackmail, her loyalty lay with the mission alone.

With a final glance at the encrypted device in her pocket, she adjusted her glasses and moved with purpose. The underground corridors stretched before her, bathed in sterile white light. She walked with the confidence of someone who belonged there, though her mind was already three steps ahead—calculating, adjusting, preparing.

Tonight, the impossible would happen.

Inside the Lab: Unaware of the Storm

Meanwhile, in Lab Sector 3, three minutes early, Dr. Joseph King and his team celebrated a milestone. The first human trial of the Cognitive Amplifier Helmet had proceeded without complications. The subject, an ordinary technician with no prior expertise in engineering, had just rattled off advanced calculations as if he had studied the field for years. The success of the project was undeniable.

Joseph leaned against a workstation, watching his colleagues revel in their achievements. For him, this was more than just another breakthrough—it was the culmination of decades of research, a step closer to redefining human intellect itself.

Still, something in his gut twisted.

Maybe it was the way Elliot Graves had been acting lately—nervous, distracted. Or maybe it was just the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

He sighed. "We'll begin observation immediately. Everyone, take shifts monitoring the subject's condition."

The team nodded, and the room slowly began to clear. Elliot lingered behind, adjusting his glasses as he moved toward the observation bay. His fingers twitched. Joseph observed this scene with suspicion rising in his heart deciding to observe his long time comrade just for tonight.

Back to the Present:

Then Joseph's voice, low and unreadable. "Tell me what you're doing."

Elliot swallowed hard. He had been caught.

At the same time, Selena Vasquez moved through the facility with practiced ease. She had played her role well—a brilliant scientist, an ambitious researcher. No one suspected that, beneath the surface, she was a meticulously trained operative.

Her goal was not Joseph King's work. It was something far more dangerous.

A heavily restricted sector lay ahead—one that few even knew existed.

Project Chrono.

Selena approached the final checkpoint. Her team outside was waiting. The attack on this facility was only one of many—synchronized strikes targeting multiple locations where fragments of the project's data were stored. Allover the States.

She glanced at her watch.

The countdown had begun.

Outside the Base–

The night was moonless, the sky a vast abyss above the desolate landscape. A faint breeze stirred the dust around the concealed entrance of the underground facility, but otherwise, the world remained still—blissfully unaware of what was about to unfold beneath its surface.

Near the entrance, Selena Vasquez stood motionless, watching the digital display on her wrist device. The seconds ticked by with agonizing precision.

"Phase one is complete," a voice crackled in her earpiece. "We've bypassed the outer perimeter. Security grid is on a temporary loop. We have exactly nine minutes before the next system sweep."

Selena exhaled slowly. Nine minutes to reach Project Chrono.

Behind her, five black-clad operatives knelt in the shadows, their faces obscured by tactical masks. Each of them carried a specialized role—one handled explosives, another infiltration tools, the rest armed for elimination.

A short distance away, two additional figures blended into the darkness—inside men positioned at key points within the facility. They had already done their part, disabling cameras, unlocking certain doors, feeding false data to the security logs.

But Selena knew the real test was ahead.

She tapped her earpiece. "Move in."

With precision, the team advanced. The first checkpoint was a silent takedown. Two unsuspecting guards stood outside the entrance, making casual conversation. They never saw the blades coming.

Selena's men dragged the bodies into the shadows, stripping them of their access badges.

The elevator to the underground sector was secured, its biometric scanner requiring proper clearance. One of the infiltrators stepped forward, pulling out a small device resembling a mechanical spider.

The miniature machine scuttled toward the scanner, its metallic legs whirring as it extended a thin appendage. It pressed against the panel, pulsing with blue light.

Seconds later—click. The doors slid open.

Selena stepped in first, followed by her team. As the doors sealed behind them, they began their rapid descent into the heart of the facility.

Inside the Underground Base

The elevator ride was eerily silent. Only the faint hum of the machinery filled the space.

Selena adjusted her glasses, checking the schematics on her wrist device. "Our target is located in Lab Sector C, two floors below. We need to get past two security zones and a restricted clearance checkpoint before reaching Project Chrono."

One of the infiltrators, a tech specialist, smirked beneath his mask. "Shouldn't be a problem. The inside guys already disabled most of the security barriers."

Selena gave a faint, knowing smile. "Almost all of them."

Ding. The elevator doors opened.

The team moved like shadows, swiftly navigating the sterile corridors. Overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting a cold, artificial glow over the pristine white walls.

Security cameras tracked the halls, but their feeds had already been hijacked. The few personnel working this late were either too occupied with their projects or had unknowingly been scheduled off-duty by forged clearance orders.

Still, they weren't careless. Every turn, every doorway was approached with calculated caution.

The first security checkpoint loomed ahead.

A reinforced door with two armed guards stationed outside. A biometric scanner, far more advanced than the one above, blinked red.

Selena signaled to her men. No hesitation.

A sharp burst of suppressed gunfire. The guards collapsed before they could react.

One of the infiltrators rushed forward, pressing a stolen security badge against the scanner. A soft chime—access granted. The heavy door hissed open, revealing the final stretch toward Project Chrono.

The Lab Containing Project Chrono

Selena's pace quickened. This was it. Her mission that would change the course of history and their country once fully realized.

They stepped inside. The room was expansive, dominated by a central, reinforced containment unit. Project Chrono—the time machine—stood before them, a marvel of innovation hidden from the world.

Lining the walls were towering servers, glowing monitors displaying streams of encrypted data. This was what they came for.

Selena's lips curled into a satisfied smirk.

"Get the data. Secure the targets," she ordered, stepping forward.

Her men moved immediately, spreading out across the lab.

The final phase had begun.

As Selena entered the final chamber, her team fanned out behind her, each member fully aware of their role in this high-stakes operation. The room was vast, its expanse dimly lit except for the faint glow of monitors displaying complex schematics and data streams. Towering servers lined the walls, humming softly, each unit crammed with knowledge beyond comprehension. At the center of it all, encased in reinforced glass and elaborate containment systems, stood the device itself—a machine that defied the very notion of time.

"Start extracting the data," Selena commanded, her voice cutting through the tension in the air.

Technicians among the infiltrators sprang into action, fingers flying over keyboards as they hacked into the system, copying every encrypted file with a speed that spoke to their training. Meanwhile, armed operatives methodically rounded up key scientists, individuals pre-marked for either capture or elimination. The atmosphere crackled with urgency.

Among the captives was Dr. Elias Wren, the lead engineer of Project Chrono. He glared defiantly at his captors, his eyes narrowed with contempt. "You have no idea what you're playing with," he spat, his voice heavy with a mix of anger and fear.

Selena adjusted her glasses, a calm smile playing on her lips. "On the contrary, Doctor. I know exactly what we're taking."

Inside the central laboratory, the massive machine loomed like an otherworldly monolith, its polished steel reflecting the dim emergency lights. Wires as thick as a man's arm snaked from its core, connecting to massive data storage units. Servers hummed as the intruders' tech specialists worked quickly, pulling encrypted files and blueprints.

Selena Vasquez stood at the center of it all, her icy gaze scanning the lab as her people worked with deadly precision.

Everything was going according to plan.

Until Elliot Graves arrived—dragging Dr. Joseph King alongside him.

Joseph's face was battered, a trail of blood dripping from his mouth. Elliot's grip on his arm was tight, and in his other hand, he clutched the Cognitive Amplifier Helmet.

Selena turned, irritation flickering in her expression. "What is this?"

Elliot pushed Joseph forward. "He caught me. I had no choice."

Joseph, still trying to catch his breath, took in the scene before him.

"What… is this?" he muttered, eyes darting across the room. The massive structure, the data being stolen, the scientists being dragged away in cuffs or shot outright.

Selena ignored him, eyes locked on Elliot. "And why is he still alive?"

"He's too important," Elliot argued. "He designed the Cognitive Amplifier. Killing him now would be—"

Selena cut him off. "Irrelevant. We got what we needed."

She raised her gun.

Joseph moved before he thought.

With a desperate surge of strength, he twisted out of Elliot's grasp and lunged for the Cognitive Amplifier.

Elliot cursed, trying to grab him, but Joseph was fast. His fingers closed around the device—and in the next instant, he jammed it onto his head. Dialing it's setting to the max in the next instant.

The world exploded.

The Cognitive Awakening

Joseph staggered as his mind expanded.

Knowledge—impossibly vast and incomprehensible—flooded into him. Equations he had never seen before became clear. Complex scientific principles, quantum mechanics, spacetime distortions, theoretical physics—

This wasn't just a high-tech reactor or an experimental engine.

This was something else. Something far, far beyond him.

A time machine.

His breath hitched. The realization wasn't instant, but piece by piece, concept by concept, it all clicked into place.

And then he understood the danger.

If this fell into the wrong hands… if they perfected this…

The future itself was at risk.

Selena realized what had happened. "STOP HIM!

The room erupted in violence.

Joseph ran. Bullets whizzed past him, tearing into metal panels, shattering glass. Scientists who had remained passive threw themselves in the way—one took a shot to the chest, another tackled an operative, screaming for Joseph to move.

He didn't hesitate. He ran for the control panel, his mind burning with calculations he had never known before.

A bullet tore through his side.

Pain exploded in his ribs, but he pushed forward, his body running on adrenaline alone.

Dr. Nathan Carter—one of the senior physicists of Project Chrono—saw him, understood his intent, and sprinted toward the console.

Dr. Olivia Han followed, ducking as another scientist took a bullet meant for her.

They reached the control panel.

"We need to trigger an overload!" Carter shouted.

Joseph was already working, his enhanced mind weaving through the machine's intricate systems.

The Amplifier had linked him directly to Chrono's interface. He could see it. Feel it.

Every calculation. Every safeguard. Every path to destruction.

More operatives rushed forward.

Dr. Han grabbed a nearby screwdriver and drove it into the neck of an approaching enemy. The man gurgled, blood spilling from his mouth as he collapsed.

Carter took a bullet to the leg but kept working.

"We don't have much time!" he yelled, sweat dripping down his face.

Joseph's fingers flew across the console.

He felt the power surge building, the machine pushing past its limits.

Security doors slammed shut.

Selena's operatives were locked out—but not for long.

Gunfire pounded against the blast door.

Selena's voice crackled through the intercom. "Joseph! You don't know what you're doing!"

"Yes," he whispered, blood dripping from his lips. "I do."

The machine screamed.

Energy arced across the room, tendrils of pure temporal distortion ripping through metal.

Joseph turned to Carter and Han. "Get to the emergency chamber. Now."

They hesitated.

He didn't. He slammed a final command into the console.

The Cognitive Amplifier burned hot against his skull.

Carter grabbed Han's arm. "Come on!"

The two scientists bolted for the emergency chamber.

Joseph stayed behind.

Through the glass of the control room, he saw Selena's forces break through.

She locked eyes with him.

And then—

A deafening roar.

The time machine detonated.

A shockwave of pure energy ripped through the facility, tearing apart the walls, disintegrating everything in its path. The entire section of the base collapsed inward, folding into itself as time and space unraveled.

Joseph's final thought as he was engulfed by the blinding light—

At least they won't get it.

Then, silence.