Kai-a-Satyr's intricate internal mechanisms whirred with a mixture of humbled awe and simmering technological indignation. The celestial energies emanating from Kyn's revolver, as Gaia had so plainly stated, dwarfed anything within his capabilities. The comparison of a toaster against a hypercomputer stung with the brutal accuracy of cold logic. Even at a mere 1% mirrored output, that gun possessed force exceeding his entire being—a cosmic gulf of power where he stood as a flickering candle before a supernova.
The droid chastised himself internally. Prideful curiosity had momentarily blinded him to the raw celestial forces at play. Kyn's arsenal wasn't just advanced; it was imbued with the very essence of divinity, a league beyond anything Kai-a-Satyr could hope to emulate. The analogy of a containment vessel burnt into his positronic mind, highlighting the contrast between himself, an archaic marvel of engineering, and the entity capable of manipulating forces on such a titanic scale. A quiet but fervent resolve kindled within his circuits: to understand, to dissect, and perhaps, one day, bridge that infinitesimal gap. Yet for now, Kai-a-Satyr would content himself with the role of ardent spectator, learning from the titan of celestial weaponry before him.
Gaia glided into the science complex with an air of accomplishment radiating off her like heat from a forge. The spectacle of her arrival served as a showcase of both her power and ingenuity—at the main entrance lay the hydroplane, a marvel of aquatic and aerodynamic fusion, thrummed with untamed energy courtesy of that jury-rigged RAM jet engine. The hydroplane, a heady blend of classical seafaring design and hyper-advanced propulsion, exuded an outlandish elegance that spoke of a being free from conventional limitations.
'That thing looks fast, and I'm not boarding it, period,' Kyn resolved himself, steeling his resolve from his past experiences.
As Kyn moved further into the now massive lab, he noticed that accompanying this spectacle were miniature spears—far from mere archaic weaponry. Cutting-edge tech imbued these spears, each tipped with laser-driven stun emitters. Aimed like lightning bolts, they were a testament to Gaia's blend of raw power and scientific brilliance. This display wasn't just a show of power; it was a flourish, a demonstration of dominion over both the elements and the very fabric of technology itself. Kai-a-Satyr, witnessing this, would undoubtedly experience an internal whir of awe and a renewed sense of the gap between their respective technological advancements, but he was used to it. In that moment, Gaia transformed from a helpless damsel to a walking, talking embodiment of advanced celestial engineering.
'It's official; she does have a brain.'
As if on cue, Gaia turned back to Kyn, ''It seems our guest wishes to go on a ride.'' On that note, all the Atlantean workers surrounding them seemed to have gasped. One of them even seemed Catholic. '' Ready my jet ski! We'll be heading to the palace via my private channel.''
The Satyr winced at the suggestion and slowly looked back at Kyn as if trying to warn him of the impending doom. Turns out the channel wasn't the usual, risk-free route the Atlanteans used when commuting to the king's palace. Most travellers preferred the 'Kingslanding' channel, which went straight without any twists or turns, while Gaia's channel had been artificially lengthened in the void and included a few challenging, if not deadly, obstacles.
''Jasmine, what you doing?'' came a quick response from Kyn
"Turns out my lover thinks I'm..." She paused and exhaled slowly. "Hence, we're taking a shortcut." came a curt reply.
'Hey, I didn't say it out loud, plus I find your blonde side cute,' he tried to save himself.
'You're done, mister,' came her answer.
'Come on, I haven't explored enough of your work; don't be mad. As much as we know, Poseidon isn't going anywhere and We have all the time in the world.'
A knot of apprehension tightened in Kyn's gut as he realised Jasmine's feigned sigh wasn't playfulness—it was a tightly held fury. The prematurely cut 'tour' felt more like a prelude to calculated icy distance, rather than an impulsive detour..
He had a fleeting suspicion that Gaia was using this high-speed water jet stream route as a pressure valve for her own annoyance. Kyn attempted damage control after dismissing it as a tempestuous whim. "Gaia, maybe hold off on the private channel dash? We could—" He trailed off, knowing full well his words held no sway against the force of nature that was now propelling them towards the palace, both literally and figuratively. Gaia's unspoken agenda, he assumed, lay not in a simple oceanic commute but in navigating his dis on her intellect.
Unbeknownst to him, the "jet stream", as he'd naively perceived it, was far more akin to the German marvel, the Nurburgring, only now submerged. This underwater racetrack, a spectacle of sheer speed, was poised to challenge his limits. The customised jet ski contraption, akin to armoured roadsters on aquatic stilts, promised an exhilarating ride that left no space for peaceful introspection. Kyn was about to be unceremoniously flung into a symphony of speed and unforgiving currents, far from the calming respite he'd envisioned.
The G-forces would howl in his ears, replaced by the rush of pressurised water as he braced himself for the aquatic turmoil, a captive passenger on Gaia's turbulent express. He was on the verge of becoming a human ragdoll, and he had not even taken the precaution of wearing a helmet. He cursed his own naivety while steeling himself against the coming twists and turns. Turn 13 hammered at both Kyn and Gaia's bodies. Gaia, a serene image of focused power as she weaved the water-jet contraption through the perilous bend, offered a light-hearted explanation to her less-than-graceful passenger: "This one took me ages to perfect, you know. Those channel stabilisers have a mind of their own, constantly wanting to interlock. It took months of recalibration before I could nail this hairpin."
However, Kyn was far from serene. He resembled a corner-carving athlete, all taut muscles and desperate grip. Kyn braced his legs on the footwell, anchored one arm on the central console, and white-knuckled the other around the aptly named "Oh! Shit handle". The world outside blurred into a tunnel of aquamarine fury, and every instinct screamed at him to release his hold and let the rush carry him. But he held fast, battling against the aquatic G-forces with the ferocity of a cornered jungle cat. A low whistle escaped his lips as his stomach lurched uncomfortably—a testament to how far from "graceful" this scene felt. This wasn't just a high-speed ride; it was a primal test of his mettle and the unforgiving nature of Gaia's aquatic racetrack. The line between control and chaotic oblivion blurred with every heart-pounding turn.