New Epoch: Ascension (Introduction)

Introduction:
Theory of Everything

         In the dimly lit room, a large electromagnetic coil dominates the center, humming with electricity that vibrates the air. It is flanked by rotating discs, each spinning at varying speeds, and the mechanism echoes with the sounds of meshing gears. Between them, a sphere of plasma pulses in and out of existence, like a deep, resonating heartbeat. At the very center of this energy, an unassuming ping-pong ball rests on its perch, seemingly untouched by the chaotic forces surrounding it.

         A nearby computer screen flickers faintly, the counter displaying: 30,211.

         A man in a lab coat teeters on the brink of sleep, feet resting lazily on the desk. His head sways in a tired rhythm, eyes closing only to snap open again, caught in an unrelenting battle against fatigue. In the midst of this struggle, his left hand moves almost instinctively, clicking the mouse guided by muscle memory.

         The mechanical whir of the spinning discs and the hum of the coils swells, rising to a crescendo with a sharp *bing* before quickly fading.

         The technician rubs the bridge of his nose and, without lifting his gaze, clicks the mouse again. The same series of sounds fills the air once more. Task completed, he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head, a critical mistake, as sleep swiftly takes hold once again.

         A soft chime echoes, followed by a voice from the room’s speakers: “Field fluctuations detected. Anomaly outside normal parameters. Please verify.”

         The technician stirs, his eyes still heavy. The voice repeats its message again. Slowly blinking, the technician turns to face the screen. “What…” he mutters, his mind clouded by the remnants of sleep.

         The alert continues, its monotone unyielding.

         With a reluctant groan, he mutters, “Alright, John, I’m up.”

         The computer ceases its alert.

         He exhales sharply, rubs the stubble along his jaw before squinting at the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion. “No object detected. It could be a malfunction or this could be a dream.”

         John (the computer) responds, “‘You are quite awake, Doctor. If you are talking to yourself again, you can switch me to respond only to statements that begin with ‘John.’”

         The Doctor continues to scan the screen in front of him. “Yes, John, I’m talking to myself. Ignore me.” His eyes shot to the plasma sphere, and the platform that would normally hold his experimental subject: a ping pong ball. It was however nowhere to be found. He rose from his chair and approached the small platform. His heart beats rapidly, and his excitement rises and then falls as he sees that it had simply fallen off its perch. An indeterminate result for sure, he places it back on its perch.

         Retreating after placing the ping pong ball back in its place. He takes a moment to admire the device, it is a culmination of his academic journey, a merging of physics, both quantum and standard model with engineering. He only needs to push a bit further to solve Einstein’s final dilemma and one that ascends humanity to the stars and beyond.

         Arriving back at his keyboard, he types in some alterations, and states, “John, initiate the next experiment with the modified parameters.”

         The disembodied voice of John responds, “Experiment 30,214 initiated.”

         The machinery re-awakes and fills the room with a symphony of sounds yet again.

         The man stretches, his joints pop and ligaments creak as they loosen. He glances towards the door, and contemplates getting some proper sleep. He mutters, "It is 3 a.m., I have kink in my neck, and also a stiff back. Alexander, get some sleep."

         He addresses the computer, “John leaving you to continue performing the experiments. After each iteration, make any necessary adjustments to the frequency and field strengths, staying within the safe parameters. Any anomalies in the field outside the observed norms, text me on my cell.”

         John responds, “Acknowledged. Have a good rest, Doctor.”

The Doctor checks his pockets, making sure he has everything he needs from the console. Satisfied, he walks over to the door, which bears a sign on the outside facing the hallway: Electromagnets in Use. Exercise caution. Contact Dr. Alexander Paulson for access.

He begins his journey homeward, his footsteps echoing down the familiar hallways he has long since memorized. Turning left, then right, he navigates the maze with practiced ease. He reaches a corridor marked by a plaque reading 'Residential Quarters' and turns into it.

Slowing his pace only when he’s confident he has traveled the correct distance. A weary smile spreads across his face as he sees his room number on the door to his right, confirming his certainty. The door clicks open with his arrival, and he steps inside, closing it softly behind him.

The room was a modest dormitory room for one person. The space had a bed, desk, computer, television, and very little else. It was all that Alexander really needed. The room was institutional and utilitarian which was fine by Alexander. Without bothering to make the bed, he collapses onto it, his body sinking into the mattress. He falls asleep within moments.