The First Action

  Max sat in his messy workshop, looking at the plan of the powered suit. His fingers ran along the boundaries of the complicated design, the lines intersecting like a labyrinth of opportunity. The burden of his father's reputation hung heavily on his shoulders, but now there was something else propelling him forward—a sense of mission.

  He breathed deeply, his heart racing in his chest. "I don't know if I'm ready," he whispered, the words suspended in the air like a thin thread. His thoughts reeled with uncertainty. His father had been a genius—innovative, fearless, and driven. Max was none of those things. He had spent years fiddling with ideas that never amounted to anything, building gadgets that never quite worked. But this. this was different. It was something more than just another project. This was about something more. "But I have to try," he said, his voice firming as he spoke the words out loud.

  Max pushed his chair away from the workbench with finality. Around him was the cluttered clutter of incomplete endeavors, crumpled paper filled with scrawled notes, and partially assembled machines. On the walls stood shelves full of scraps of projects gone wrong, reminders of what he could never do as his father. And today, today that did not matter. Today, all things changed.

  He strode to the corner of the room where his tools were strewn about in every direction. His hands went about them automatically, scooping up wrenches, screwdrivers, and pliers, sorting them out with accuracy, as though putting his space in order somehow would ready him for the battle ahead. All motion, albeit calculated, had a sense of haste.

  Max thought about his father as he sifted through the tools. Dr. Alexander Cole, a man who had accomplished greatness, yet who never came any closer. Max had wasted so many years attempting to determine who his father was, and why he had been so captivated by his work. But now, with the journal in his hands and the suit coming together before him, Max understood something valuable. His father had been working towards something much greater than simply scientific discovery. He had been trying to save the world.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "I'm not only an inventor anymore," Max whispered to himself, his voice barely audible, but full of determination. He gazed down at the blueprints again, the intricate equations and drawings now clear. It wasn't merely a matter of constructing a suit anymore; it was about safeguarding what his father had left behind—something that could revolutionize the world, something that could save it.

  His mind went back to the visit of the government agent, the enigmatic words that had led him to this point. "National security," the agent had told him, alluding to the energy of the meteorite and the risks of its improper use. Max had dismissed the agent's words, but now, looking around at the work of his father, he realized. If he didn't complete the suit, someone else would—and they wouldn't have any regard for keeping the meteorite safe. They'd want to harness its power.

  The weight of the realization fell on him like a cloak, and for the first time, Max didn't feel like a failure. The doubts about himself that had plagued him for so long started to fade away, replaced by a deep, unshakeable resolve. "I'm a protector now," he declared, his voice louder this time, ringing out in the stillness of the workshop.

  The concept had a ring to it. It had a reality to it. As he surveyed the mess of his office, Max no longer perceived it as disarray. He perceived it as potential. He perceived the raw materials of something that would mold the future, something that would continue his father's tradition.

  He began working right away, not waiting an additional moment. He collected the materials he required, going over the blueprints with a renewed intensity. His father had created this suit with a specific vision in his mind, and Max wasn't going to let it get away. He was going to complete it. He was going to safeguard the meteorite's power, and he was going to ensure that it didn't end up in the wrong hands.

  As the hours ticked by, Max's resolve hardened. The road ahead would be tough—there would be errors, failures, and obstacles. But Max was certain of one thing: he wasn't going down this path by himself. His father's efforts, his legacy, had brought him to this point. Now it was Max's turn to complete what had been begun.

  The suit, which had once been a distant fantasy, was now a mission—one he was more than ready to embark on.

  "I won't let you down, Dad," Max whispered, his fingers firm as he started to assemble the first parts of the suit. The initial step was the most difficult, but with every motion, Max felt more and more like the guardian he had just come to understand he needed to be.