I’ll be the Red Ranger
Chapter 151 – We Ascend

- Mordred -

Every time he climbed to this floor, he was struck by the sheer enormity of Enceladus. Standing near the apex of the towering structure, Mordred gazed down through the expansive windows that wrapped around the laboratory. Below him, the immense dome sprawled, encapsulating every building, every person, and every android navigating the bustling city streets. It was a living monument—the culmination of generations of toil and ambition that had brought them to this colony.

‘Grandfather was right,’ Mordred mused, his eyes tracing the intricate web of lights that composed the cityscape. ‘He found the right place to find freedom. It's a pity he chose the wrong path.’

He stood mere steps from the colossal window encircling the laboratory perched atop Enceladus's tallest edifice. The city before him descended hundreds more levels, reaching all the way down to the planet's icy surface and delving dozens of stories into the subterranean depths. The tiers of the metropolis formed a labyrinthine hive of activity.

"Mr. President, the minister is calling for you—they're about to initiate the tests," came a voice from behind.

Mordred turned to see a soldier clad in the crisp uniform of the Republic of Enceladus. The emblem—a stylized representation of Enceladus encircled by stars—was emblazoned on his chest.

"Thank you," Mordred replied with a curt nod.

He was just a kid to most of his enemies, but Mordred had meticulously laid the groundwork to ensure he wouldn't become another emperor in a long line of despots. His position as President was designed to last only until the end of the war; afterward, the office would be open for any citizen of the Republic to contest. It was one of his strategies to guarantee a peaceful transfer of power—a safeguard against the tyranny of an empire.

Yet, behind the scenes, he convened with dozens of ministers, deliberating potential successors who could assume his mantle without jeopardizing all he had built. Enceladus's future was precarious, and he couldn't leave it to chance.

The soldier escorted Mordred through the corridors toward one of the restricted chambers of the central laboratory. The air was sterile, tinged with a faint chemical scent that lingered in the passageways. At the pinnacle of the laboratory, glass domes arched overhead, revealing Enceladus's ethereal blue atmosphere. The sky bathed the space in an otherworldly cerulean glow.

Scattered throughout the expansive room were enormous cylindrical glass tanks, each housing a figure immersed in a luminescent, viscous liquid. The fluid pulsated softly, casting shimmering patterns across the floors and walls. Dozens of scientists and technicians moved between the tanks while reading the data streams and diagnostics.

Mordred walked among the tanks, his gaze sharp as he assessed the recent results. Holographic interfaces projected status updates beside each vessel: biometric readings, neural activity graphs, genomic sequence alignments. Some subjects showed signs of partial success—stable vital signs and initial synaptic responses. Others were marked by glaring red alerts—cellular degradation, synaptic failure, and organ rejection.

"Damn it," Mordred muttered under his breath, his frustration evident. "Another batch of failures."

The newly self-declared President clenched his fists at his sides. Time was slipping through his fingers like sand, and each unsuccessful trial brought them closer to the brink of disaster. These experiments were vital—a potential key to ending the war that had ravaged their society for too long.

Workstations were scattered like islands in a sea of cutting-edge technology throughout the expansive laboratory. At each station, dozens of scientists were hunched over holographic interfaces; some engrossed in data streams, others scrutinizing the massive tanks that lined the facility's walls. The air was thick with the hum of machinery and the murmur of intense discussion.

"This one needs adjustment—we have to recalibrate the Energy density," one scientist declared, his eyes fixated on the fluctuating graphs before him.

"Are you sure?" his colleague replied skeptically. "My data shows the density was within optimal parameters."

"You're out of your mind! Look at this again," the first scientist insisted, pointing emphatically at the hologram.

Amidst the fervor, the scientists paid little heed to President Mordred as he moved among them. His presence had become routine; the gravity of the project was such that he rarely left the laboratory unless absolutely necessary for the defense of the Republic. This endeavor was a matter of life and death.

On the far side of the chamber, another team was initiating a fresh round of tests.

"Subject #131—beginning sequence," a technician announced, her voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.

"Starting CRISPR insertion," another reported.

"Expanding Energy field around subject," a third called out.

"Increasing Energy density."

As the final phase initiated, alarms blared urgently near the tank housing Subject #131.

"Emergency! Abort process!" shouted a scientist, his fingers flying over the control panel.

Panic erupted as personnel scrambled to contain whatever was going wrong. Screens flashed red with warning symbols, and the hum of machinery escalated to a frantic pitch.

"Subject #131—failure. Sudden death due to Energy overload," a disembodied voice reported flatly.

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the sound of a few scientists pounding their fists on their consoles in frustration and despair.

‘We've been at this for two years,’ Mordred thought grimly, watching the scene unfold. ‘If what the Orks have offered doesn't work, everything we've built will collapse.’

As he surveyed his team's troubled faces, one of the senior scientists—a man with graying temples and weary eyes—approached him.

"Sir, we've received the engineer from the Orks," the scientist began hesitantly. "Well, he's not an Ork himself, but we've obtained the necessary information."

"Is it enough?" Mordred asked, skepticism edging his tone.

"Yes, sir. We've conducted tests and validated," the scientist replied.

"What are the chances this is a trap by the Orks?" Mordred inquired, his gaze piercing.

"Low," the senior scientist assured him. "Nothing in the process or data indicates an issue or back door. However, we can never be completely certain."

Mordred sighed, a mixture of resignation and hope flickering across his features. "I would prefer not to use their technology, but it seems we have no other choice."

"Yes, sir," the scientist acknowledged, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. Accepting aid from the Orks—even as recent allies—was a bitter pill to swallow. For decades, they'd been enemies, and there was still pride in relying solely on their own scientific prowess to meet their leader's demands.

"Where do we stand now?" Mordred asked.

"We've completed the trials. It was a success with our test group. The solution is available as an injection," the scientist explained. "We may initiate deployment at any time, but we need your authorization."

Mordred glanced around the laboratory, still unsure of his decision. He took the time to reflect on all the work and time spent on this project.

‘It's inevitable,’ he conceded silently. ‘If I want to fight them, I must free us from this constraint.’

"Bring me the solution," Mordred commanded.

"Sir?" The scientist looked at him, momentarily confused.

"Bring it to me," Mordred repeated firmly. "At the very least, I must be among the first."

"Are you certain?" the scientist asked, concern tinging his words.

"Yes," Mordred affirmed, his expression unyielding. "Don't make me repeat myself. I will cross this river before asking my soldiers to do the same."

The scientist straightened, nodding respectfully. "Understood, Mr. President. I will have it prepared immediately."

As the scientist left to retrieve the injection, Mordred strode purposefully to the front of the lab. With a swift motion, he clapped his hands sharply, the sound echoing against the walls and drawing the attention of everyone present. Several scientists paused, lifting their heads from holographic displays and blinking as they realized who was addressing them.

"It's the President," someone whispered.

"He's here again?"

"Could this be about the other project?"

Mordred adjusted his uniform, which blended military precision with the streamlined aesthetics befitting a leader of the Republic. He raised both hands, palms outward, signaling for silence. Taking a deep breath, he surveyed the room, his gaze meeting those of the men and women who toiled tirelessly for their shared cause.

"My comrades," he began, his voice resonating with a commanding clarity. "You are the architects of the Republic's future. For years, you have worked relentlessly, facing challenges that seemed insurmountable. You've armed us with the means to resist the might of the Empire, granting us, at last, a chance to see ourselves free."

As he spoke, more scientists ceased their activities, the hum of machinery and quiet conversations fading into a respectful hush. The glow of flickering screens illuminated their attentive faces.

"Yet, in our greatest challenge thus far, we've encountered hundreds of failures and setbacks," Mordred continued. "All the while, our enemies have labeled us weak, inferior. But we saw in this adversity an opportunity—to create something greater, something glorious. And today, that vision becomes reality."

Confusion flickered across many faces. They were deep in their research, unaware of a second front in their scientific efforts. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, but Mordred’s steady gaze held them.

"What we have built together here—with our sacrifices, our blood, our hope—is more than technology," he declared, his eyes shining with conviction. "It is liberation. Not just from the tyranny that has crushed us for generations, but from the very chains of our limited humanity."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Yes, humanity. It has brought us this far but has also shackled us—to weakness, mortality, and division. Today, we cast off those limitations. Today, we ascend. And I will be the first."

"Not out of pride, but out of duty," Mordred asserted, his voice firm. "Not for personal glory, but because to lead means to walk ahead, to bear the weight of the unknown so that others may follow."

At that moment, the senior scientist returned hastily to Mordred's side, extending a sleek, self-injecting device. An iridescent orange liquid swirled softly inside the transparent chamber, catching the ambient light.

Mordred lifted the vial high for all to see. The room held its breath.

"This is not merely a genetic mutation," he proclaimed. "It is an evolution. With this act, we will no longer be just men. We will be the first of the Ascendants—a race destined to shape the universe's fate."

He scanned the faces before him, a spectrum of awe, fear, and hope reflecting back. "You have achieved the impossible, and I offer myself as living proof that the freedom we have dreamed of is not only attainable—it begins here, now."

With a resolute gesture, Mordred pressed the injector against his forearm. There was a soft hiss as he activated it, the luminescent fluid disappearing into his veins.

"Today, we do not merely survive," he declared, his voice rising with unwavering confidence. "Today, we ascend."

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