Peter POV:
The basent slled different tonight. Not of stale pizza or solder, but of cold tal and antiseptic. Synthetic, clinical, unreal.
The fabricator humd softly, spitting out modular panels for dical berth with surgical precision. I assembled them piece by piece: a fully adjustable surgical berth, titanium fras that could lock into perfect alignnt, hydraulic lifts to shift angles with a whisper. The Sandevistan's neural interface nodes needed absolute stability, any wobble and I could fry my spinal cord before I even got started.
"Alright, Peter," I muttered to myself, voice rough from sleepless nights. " This is it. No turning back."
> Advisory: dical berth assembly complete. Ready for surgery.
I wheeled myself closer, ignoring the dull phantom ache in my legs. The chair clicked against the tal platform as I transferred. Once seated, I strapped in, testing every restraint. Arms, torso, head - perfect alignnt. No margin for error.
"Clanker." I said, voice tense, " We're going live. Provide real-ti monitoring, biofeedback and neural sync calibration. Keep latency below 15 milliseconds."
> Acknowledged. All systems nominal. Diagnostic checks complete.
I took a deep breath. The room was quiet, save for the faint whirr of the Sandevistan I'd laid beside the berth — its neon orange glow against the dull grey of its tal was oddly beautiful.
[Image]
The Sandevistan neural nodes had to connect directly between the intervertebral disc spaces. One wrong calculation and this was over. I had run thousands of simulations. It was perfect on paper.
I flexed my fingers and traced the node ports with a gloved hand. "You got this, Parker. No lizards. No idiots. Just science and spite."
Peter POV — Procedure Begins
Step one: Anesthesia. Synthetic sedative flowed into my veins — my own modification for controlled, fast-acting sedation without cardio complications. I could feel the edges of reality blur.
Step two: Incision. My custom robotic hand hovered over the skin at the base of my spine with a razor sharp scalpel. One tiny misalignnt could crush nerves, rupture vessels and end the night in paralysis. I exhaled slowly, rembering the late nights studying neuroanatomy and actuator integration. The scalpel moved in a perfect straight line over my spine. After the incision was made my spine was exposed to the air of the world.
> Neural node interface calibrated. Sterility of Sandevistan confird.
Step three: Sandevistan integration. The neural interface connections slotted along the intervertebral disc spaces of the spinal column. I kept my focus razor-sharp, ignoring the dull pain I was feeling all over my body. Clanker's chip was syncing with the Sandevistan in real ti.
Step four: Closure. The gaps caused by the incision sealed beneath synthetic tissue. tallic clamps of the upper parts of the Sandevistan dug into my skin for greater stability and neural connectivity. Effectively screwing the Sandevistan to my body. The Titanium clamps of the dical berth disengaged. I flexed carefully, testing the range of motion. Every micro-adjustnt registered in perfect harmony.
I exhaled. For a second, I just… existed. No equations, no banter, no undead trading simulations. Just the quiet hum of tal and circuitry fused with my body along with the dull ache that ca with the receding effects of the anesthetic.
Peter POV — First Movents
I flexed my fingers. Gone was the jitter that ca with my damaged spine. I tilted my head. Neural sync stable. Pulled my upper body slightly no shaking. Sandevistan support perfectly compensating for my damaged spine.
I couldn't help it. I let out a small, ridiculous laugh. " How am I going to explain the fact that I pulled off surgery without telling Gwen?"
> Advisory: Sandevistan operational. Calibration phase complete. All subsystems nominal. The system prays for your wellbeing because Ms. Stacey is going to be pissed.
I allowed myself a mont of quiet pride. No fanfare. No glory. Just a genius and his spite, fused into one slightly terrifying package.
The night stretched ahead. Repairs, tests, tiny adjustnts. But for now, I was… whole. Also scared for my fraulein best friend.
Gwen had no idea I'd just turned my own body into a prototype for a prosthesis that doesn't even exist in concept yet.
Read ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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