Chapter 295: Curiosity
"How’s your reproductive organ? I don’t believe I broke it, but I apologize for striking you in such a sensitive spot," remarked Atlas, walking ahead of Vahn as she led the way into one of her many labs.
"It was a surprise, but recover quickly..." assured Vahn, his eyes scanning the lab’s interior as he spread his domain through it. Nearly every surface had a metallic blue or greenish-blue hue, and there were pipes, wires, and colossal containers of liquid arranged alongside giant-sized terminals with curved crystalline displays.
’Well, that’s disconcerting...’ thought Vahn, his gaze settling on a series of cylindrical glass containers filled with bubbling green liquid. More notably, each had a version of Atlas suspended within, embracing their legs. Some resembled her current form with cosmetic modifications such as hairstyle or length, but one, in particular, had Devil wings, familiar crimson hair, and ivory-white horns reminiscent of a ram.
"This is the lab where I study and perform genetic experiments, mainly on myself but with contributions from others..." explained Atlas, approaching the container containing the Devil and placing her right hand on the glass, her blue eyes glistening with intrigue as she revealed, "My objectives are to identify what makes Ascendees compatible with Enhancement Crystals and reproduce the results. Unfortunately, while I’ve been able to produce spare Satellites with the same genetic markers as known Ascendees, they are only capable of absorbing less than three-millionth of a percent of the metamorphic energy stored within the Crystals. The rest bleeds out as an exotic form of tachyonic radiation."
Feeling frustrated, Atlas began turning reddish-pink like a cartoon kettle heating from the bottom up. She had an exceptionally durable punching bag nearby for such occasions, but it wasn’t needed as Vahn plopped his left hand down on her head and said, "You’ve made remarkable progress. The energy within the Crystals shouldn’t be usable by anyone who isn’t an Ascendee. What you’ve accomplished in just one year is the equivalent of an average person reaching up and plucking a star from the night sky on a whim..."
"I ordinarily resent praise, but since it’s coming from a God, I shall make an exception and accept it just this once~" hummed Atlas, puffing out her nearly non-existent chest with her hands on her hips and her rounded tail bouncing and curling at the end.
"Right...so what’s with the swimsuit...?" asked Vahn, resisting the urge to delve into the moral implications of creating biomechanical clones using the genetic templates of other people, much less Ascendees. As long as she and the other Vegapunks didn’t cross the line by creating sapient life who were compelled to participate in experiments against their will, it was morally grey but within the realm of acceptable.
"It’s not a swimsuit, though I suppose it could function as one..." retorted Atlas, pulling at the front of her sukumizu-like garb and allowing it to snap back into place as she pointedly explained, "It’s an adaptive nanopolymer that adjusts to practically any size and body shape, monitors and records biometric data, resists shock, and automatically regulate temperature. It resembles a swimsuit on women because their hips have a broader range of motion and musculotendinous elasticity—particularly in the hamstrings, adductor, and maximal muscles. It’s what enables them to give birth and some to perform a full sideways split without their internal organs slipping out."
Though he was tempted to ask additional questions, Vahn got the very distinct impression his thoughtless query had offended Atlas. The latter enjoyed explaining her inventions and the thought process behind them, but as was often the case with minds well ahead of their time, she hated fielding questions unrelated to what she wanted to discuss. That was the job of the original Vegapunk and the Satellites representing his goodness and wisdom, Shaka and Pythagoras.