Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World

Adrian's mind reeled as he began to truly understand the implications of what he had just witnessed.

He thought of the people of this world, their lives, their technology, their culture. Then he thought of what was coming for them.

The comparison was so stark it was almost laughable. He remembered the Kardashev scale from his old life on Earth, a method for measuring a civilization's technological advancement based on the amount of energy it could harness.

The Garog, with their fleets that traversed galaxies, were likely a high Type 2 civilization, perhaps even touching the borders of Type 3.

This world? It was barely a Type 0.4. The only reason they lived more comfortably than the medieval societies of Earth was because magic made basic production and survival easier.

There was no meaningful difference between their technological level now and that of the medieval times on Earth.

He had been sent here to change that, to slowly elevate their technology, but Adrian knew with sickening certainty that he had barely done anything.

Against the oncoming storm, his efforts were like building a sandcastle to stop a tsunami.

A single, grim thought solidified in his mind, cutting through the panic.

'We're all screwed.'

He began pacing the length of his room. The initial shock gave way to a frantic need for information, for a plan, for anything that could serve as a weapon against the inevitable.

After a frantic question-and-answer session with the System, he was provided with a lot more useful data.

It gave him access to a few more key scenes from the Garog god's memory and, most crucially, a snapshot of the fleet's last known coordinates relative to his own.

Adrian stopped pacing to process the new information. "Based on what I can deduce from the data Tech Core provided, they would take at least ten years to reach this system."

He immediately felt a pang of doubt. His entire deduction was based on half-remembered science fiction movies and speculative physics from his past life.

A hundred variables he couldn't account for could exist. FTL drives, wormhole technology, dimensional folding. The Garog were an ancient race; who knew what they were capable of?

Still, the ten-year figure felt like a lifeline. He was sure they couldn't arrive in less time than that if the Tech Core's location data was accurate.

Anything faster would represent a level of technological supremacy that would make any attempt at defense utterly worthless.

'There's a very high chance they could arrive far beyond my estimated timeline,' he thought with hope.

Having done all he could to analyze the threat, Adrian's resolve hardened. The fear remained, but it was now overlaid with determination. "I'll have to work harder than ever to elevate this world if we're to stand a chance."

With his thoughts finally settled on a course of action, he opened his interface once more.

The glowing screen displayed his current balance: over five million Tech Points.

It was a fortune for Adrian, and although he didn't plan on making spendings yet, there was one major purchase he had been considering, and now, there was no longer any need to hesitate.

"Upgrade Factory to Level 3," Adrian called out into the air.

A familiar holographic prompt appeared before him.

[Confirm upgrade: Spend 1,000,000 TP to upgrade Factory from Level 2 to Level 3?]

"Yup."

The System registered his agreement immediately.

[Factory Upgrade confirmed]

[Upgrading Factory...]

[Factory Upgrade in process]

[Time to complete upgrade: 1:59:59]

Adrian watched the two-hour countdown begin with a sigh. Two hours. Normally, it would feel like nothing, but with the fate of the world resting on his shoulders, every ticking second felt like a wasted opportunity.

"A lot can happen in two hours," he murmured. His eyes darted towards the door to the balcony. "I might as well use this time to attend to other issues."

He pulled out a Communicator, about to place a call, before a new thought occurred to him. He had a new skill to test. Telepathy.

"Let's see how this works."

Adrian tried to activate the skill, but quickly realized it wasn't a simple on-off switch. The System knowledge provided a set of instructions for his mind. It required him to form a direct mental link with the person he wished to communicate with. He was ready to do just that.

He closed his eyes, reaching out with his consciousness, trying to find a target. He sensed nothing. It was like shouting into an empty room.

He tried and tried, focusing his will, but he couldn't find anyone to connect with. It wasn't a lack of power, but a lack of a target. He was aiming blind.

After a few frustrating minutes, he gave up and decided to try something else. He opened the door and stepped out onto the balcony.

The cool air washed over him. Below, the streets of New Haven were alive. The city was no longer the empty, corrupted land it once was.

After he had brought everyone from Tulia over, along with the former prisoners who had been proven innocent, the district was bustling with life.

His gaze swept over the scene and settled on a balcony a few blocks away. It was one of the residential buildings.

On it, two men were deeply engrossed in a game of chess. Thanks to his [Omnisense], Adrian had a crystal-clear view of their board, as if he were standing right beside them.

He watched as one of the men, who was playing with the black pieces, hovered his hand over a bishop. Adrian could see the entire board state.

The man was about to suffer a classic back-rank checkmate. He intended to move his bishop to threaten his opponent's queen, completely oblivious to the fact that his opponent's rook would slide across the board on the next move, trapping his king with no escape.

Perfect. This was the test he needed.

Focusing on the man with the black pieces, Adrian tried again. This time, with a clear visual target, the connection snapped into place instantly.

'Nice.'

He decided to test it. What better way than to save the man from committing a blunder? He formed the words in his mind and pushed them across the new link.

"Move your King away."

The man, his fingers just about to touch the bishop, froze. His head snapped up in shock at the sudden voice that had spoken directly into his mind. He looked across the table at his friend.

"Who said that? Was that you?"

His friend had been practically vibrating with anticipation, waiting for the blunder that would seal his victory. He shook his head impatiently. "Play already! You're just trying to waste time."

"No, I'm serious," the man insisted, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I could swear I just heard a voice in my head."

Kael let out an exasperated sigh. "You and your voices. You've come again. Okay, fine. What did the 'voice' say?"

The question made the first man pause and think over the words. "Move your King away." His eyes were drawn back to the chessboard, to his king's vulnerable position.

He followed the line of his opponent's rook and his eyes widened in realization. He clapped a hand over his mouth.

A slow grin spread across his face. He moved his King one square to the side, providing an escape route.

"I ain't telling," he said cheekily.

His opponent watched the move, his triumphant expression crumbling as he realized his checkmate trap was ruined. He was back in a losing position.

"Hmph," he grunted, slumping back in his chair before making a reluctant move of his own, now secretly hoping a mysterious voice might give him some tips as well.

Meanwhile, on his own balcony, Adrian smiled behind his mask. The skill worked. He felt a small spark of satisfaction for his good deed, but what mattered most was that he now understood the ability's mechanics.

While he couldn't communicate with people he couldn't see or feel, it was a different case for those he could track.

And that was the key. He could always sense the people he had marked with his soul imprint. This was where that ability became invaluable.

He closed his eyes again, but this time, he wasn't reaching out blindly. He focused on the faint, familiar signatures of his most trusted allies. He located each of them, and at the same time, he spoke into their minds with the same, simple directive.

"Come to my place. We need to talk."