Mr. B's Initial Trial

The ability to conjure up the most insane and otherworldly technology has always been a casual pastime for one of history's greatest minds to ever emerge out of this universe. A lone wolf, who doesn't tend to work well with others, has spent countless decades perfecting his own strand of engineering art for himself and himself alone, for he was never one to share his intellect willingly to those around him. Is it because he simply doesn't like people? Is it because no one could understand what he has to offer? Or is it some other third thing?

Bradley Beauchemin has been working on a project for some time now, and it is only since recently that his work has finally bore fruit. Now, as an old man, detached from the world and well ahead of his time, Bradley finished his lifelong passion project; his Bionic Improbability Drive Mk. 0. We, simple minded folk who have never conceived of a notion pertaining to the awe inspiring body he has created, must first go about how to put his hypothesis and practical information into terms we can understand.

Initially, the bionic body is a machine capable of keeping his soul alive and functional forever, so long as he is diligent in maintaining the body. He wants to live forever, for reasons beyond what a general gist explanation can provide. But, this is no mere immortal body, capable of doing nothing but preserving essence. There are a few different perks of understanding that the host of this bionic machine can do, in conjunction with its immortality.

The machine can shift frequencies and travel through time itself, if left in a linear path. Traveling around the universe and through the timeline it resides in, be it linear or using multiverse theory. He can essentially travel through time from an elevated perspective, so as to see any grand scheme he wishes, but also, he can move out of one timeline and into another. Such perks will keep the genius busy for unspeakable lengths of time, if his soul can properly transfer into the new body.

The bionic vessel itself is pretty basic in design; crude yet practical. It stands at roughly 6 feet tall, with a triangular torso that is detailed with tubing over the shoulders, connecting them from the back to the pecks. There is also a holding case within the center of the chest, where his soul can be witnessed in all of its complex glowing glory. It is detailed with stripes that go down the center and make a cross horizontally, the center of which is the said crystallized center that houses his soul.

The legs are basic and mechanical, with crude circular joints and round topped rectangles for feet. His arms look like two tear drops connected at the points with similar cross patterns on the forearms as those on the chest. His hands were orbs with three cylindrical fingers, able to grasp without the opposable thumbs. Maybe in the next version he could have time to add more useful additions to this body. For now, basic yet practical is the essence of this machine.

His head was circular, wearing a mask that had a vent for a mouth and serious, damming eyes. There was an aesthetic design atop the head, providing an oval with edged angles at the front sides of it, with lines going horizontally in the middle. His hip had an oval 'belt buckle' that donned the symbol of his Improbability Drive, which is hard to describe despite its simple nature.

The machine stood in its stand by mode in a cylindrical docking port, to which it was awaiting transmigration. For this to work, Bradley would have to transfer his soul to the bionic body, which can be done in a multitude of methods. Being the genius that he was, he didn't need to be so barbaric and take his own life in order to have the Drive snag him in its vessel. He had planned and prepared a FTM, or Forced Transmigration Machine, to which he could simply stand within it and send his soul to the new body rather than die and have it snagged.

It would be like slipping into a deep sleep, and after the mechanical whirls activated and the unyielding exhaustion took over, Bradley had left his mortal body and the bionic machine jolted and twitched. The crystallized circle glowed with light yellow and violet as it calibrated to the new body. After minutes passed and the red eyes glowed to a natural hue, Bradley managed to step out of the docking port slowly, getting a quick handle on the movement and new sensations.

He felt numb in the body, for he hadn't needed to include a pain register system that was physical in sensation. He looked at his new hands with intrigue, before he turned to look at the old decrepit vessel he once had control over. "Old and outdated," he said out loud, "such a debilitating thing I was. Now then."

He could sense the internal database into making custom changes to his hearing, stability, and power output. This machine, running on the essence of his soul and the Drive technology holding it indefinitely, was now done with stage one. He eventually decided to get right to his first experiment; time travel. Not one to waste time (ironic, I know), he activated his frequency shifters to initiate a multidimensional Ascension. He vibrated calmly, and out of a light of pure white he disappeared from his laboratory and was floating in a temporal dimension, where he could traverse the linear line of his current timeline within this single universe.

He made his mental calculations to traverse 900 years in the future. He did this to see how far humanity managed to catch up to his own potential in the realm of science. In this realm of time, he was a mixture of light and solidity, becoming probability waves that could move through that length of time in mere moments. Once he arrived in the future, he solidified completely and appeared in the front yard of his seemingly simple home.

It was gone. His home was gone, replaced with the foundation of some sort of dig site. It appeared as though people were trying to uncover his trade secrets but have spent centuries to even come to the security locks and massive doorways that protected their secrets with absurd tenacity. Not even the humans of this generation could seem to pick the locks or destroy the doors. How quaint.

Bradley "Bionic" Beauchemin, the man out of time before his time, noticed a group of three people dressed in odd, yet familiar laboratory attire. There was a group of technicians and construction workers speckled all over the sight, but these three seemed to be in charge of this operation. They looked intelligent enough for him to bide his ignorance of social interaction and approached, to which armed guards quickly circled him out of seemingly nowhere. He didn't seemed intimidated, but his arrival did seem to bring the leaders of this operation to him. Their faces were covered with finely trimmed beards and professional mustaches, their lab coats more tactical in the jungle of this once proclaimed city of nothing but towers.

"Ah, it seems like this city has sprouted like trees since I was last here." Said Bradley, in his deep, mechanical voice riddled with intellect. One of the scientists stepped forward, holding a tablet of some sort.

"What are you? You do not look like you're from our civilization. A tad out of place, given your oddly specific design. Are you an alien?"

Bradley shook his head with an entertained chuckle. "Alien? No. This soul I have is most definitely human. It looks like you're trying to break into my home. How rude of you."

"YOUR home? You mean to claim ownership of our most puzzling findings of the past?"

"Are you Bradley Beauchemin?" Asked a second scientist, "he was the last known resident of this household before we found its locked basement."

"That is me, no doubt. This body I have now is so I can live and study for the rest of eternity. Tell me, what brings you to my once standing home? If I was expecting company, I would have stuck around instead of jumping through time to witness such audacious acts of breaking and entering, albeit a fruitless effort."

The third scientist stepped closer. "You do not understand. With what you have locked up here, we could become on par with you and grow into something even more amazing. We must advance ourselves for the sake of human evolution. If you claim ownership, you must let us inside so we can continue the strides in human ingenuity. If you traveled through time, that is but one feat we still do not have a grasp on."

Bradley stifled a laugh. "You know not the sacrifices made to achieve such power. How will I know you will not use my discoveries and technology to further push mankind to its end?"

The first scientist seemed more on edge. "It is essential that you let us inside. The discoveries and insight it can provide us will help us more than you can possibly imagine. Bradley-"

"Mr. B is fine, actually." Interrupted Bradley. "I have too many Bs in my old and new name combined."

"Mr. B, please. This is the last major discovery our country has to unlock from its own land. If not for us, do it for yourself. You'll be held in high regard throughout the scientific community!"

"I need not be recognized for my endeavors. This body is all I have to show for my lifetime of isolated study and engineering prowess. Say I do let you in. What do you expect to do? Clog the timeline up with travellers who disrupt the foundation of reality itself? No. It is for only a mere individual to take initiative and ensure that no paradoxes arise. I could never explain how dire it is to do what I did. I changed history due to my arrival alone, and now it makes me curious.. how will things change from here?"

The scientists seemed to catch a vibe of uncertainty, though they would continue to pester. "We will ensure we do not abuse such power, Mr. B. If you simply tell us all the complexity and foreboding information, we can ensure that it doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

"Is war still an issue these days?" He asked without stutter. "Does America strive to be the best country on earth to this day?"

"War and conflict does still pop up now and again," said the second scientist, "we are in constant struggle with societies which need to be controlled before things get out of hand."

Mr. B shook his head. "No. Civilizations and empires never survive in the long run, despite strides in technology. It just makes them lazier, weaker. Makes their people run in the cycles of chaos and unending conflict for all eternity. Building only to tear down,, over and over again. People can't be trusted. Groups water down the significance of actions and alleviate the responsibility of failure to a flawed system. No one but an individual who has both confidence and knowledge in his own abilities and the world around him can make the right choices, such as this one."

He opened a small compartment on his wrist and entered a code, to which the laboratory he had concealed from the world was obliterated in one fell swoop of fire and explosions. The persistent heat destroyed everything, killing all those in the immediate area. Mr. B stood there, unscathed, while the scientists flustered and wailed frantically among the chaos.

When the dust settled, all they could ask was, "why?!" To which he offered a simple answer. 

"Humanity will never prosper with war being the main source of income, technologically advanced or not. People will suffer regardless, and I do not deem this world worthy of accepting anything I have to offer but a fate well deserved. But now, I'm curious. What does this fate have in store for the future? Who will rise from the abstract and dimented world I have created? Does humanity have a chance to become something beyond conflict?"

The guards fired fruitlessly, for the bullets and lazer weapons only ricochet and flick off this amazing new body of his. He was like a God, and felt like he had finally achieved his vengeance on the world that had abandoned him so long ago. He felt no remorse, no empathy for the choice he just made. Nor did he feel like this act was one made out in vain. He knew the nature of humanity in this timeline all too well to trust them with his sacred knowledge and technology.

He knew, down to his core, that it had taken him, an intellectual and open minded individual, over 6 decades to accept and master the crafts necessary to cast away his humanity and give total faith in only himself, which was now no longer bound by human weakness. A true lone wolf, who needed no one to distract him, no one to get attached to besides himself. Now, in this body, he hadn't the need to worry about losing the only thing he holds dear to his soul.

He was gone in a flash, left on his own accord to leave this timeline behind, and find one where he could prosper and flourish all by himself.