Kovacs sat in the cramped, dimly lit classroom, acutely aware of the other students' scrutinizing gazes. Each glance felt like a dagger, a reminder that he never quite fit in anywhere. The room, barely large enough to accommodate the six desks and the professor’s workspace, seemed to close in on him, amplifying his unease. Being student number five in such a small class only heightened the tension.
The entrance broke the silence of a tall, wiry man with unruly white hair and wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously on his nose. His presence immediately commanded attention, his eyes sharp and discerning. “Good morning, everyone,” he began, his voice carrying a weight of authority and experience. “As you can see, we have lost a student but gained another to replace him.”
Kovacs felt a lump in his throat as the professor’s gaze settled on him. “Kovacs, I am Professor Harold Langley, and I will be your instructor for Advanced Mecha Design.” Langley handed out the syllabus efficiently, and Kovacs quickly scanned its contents. The topics included advanced propulsion systems, experimental weaponry, and adaptive armor technologies—each more complex than the last. This wasn’t just another class but a crucible designed to forge the most capable minds in mecha design.
“As you can see,” Professor Langley continued, “we will also work closely with the military. They provide us with real-world problems that need innovative solutions. Some of your designs might even be tested in the field.” He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in. “Your work here could save lives.”
The statement hung in the air, and Kovacs felt mixed emotions. Excitement at the prospect of contributing something meaningful, but also an overwhelming sense of pressure. He had missed several weeks of classes and was now being thrust into the deep end. Langley’s lecture that day was a detailed recounting of the history and evolution of mecha design. He spoke with passion that the technical details seemed to leap off the page, transforming into living, breathing concepts. But Kovacs struggled to keep up, his mind clouded by the realization that he was already weeks behind.
“Mr. Kovacs, I will see you at the end of class,” Langley said, his tone brooking no argument.
“Yes, sir,” Kovacs replied, trying to mask the apprehension that gnawed at him. The professor’s tone was ominous, promising a confrontation he wasn’t prepared for.
When the last students had filed out, Kovacs hesitated before approaching the professor. “Sir?” he ventured, his voice laced with uncertainty. “You wanted to see me?”
Langley leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes assessing the young man before him. “I’ve read your record. It was explained to me that you would be an asset to the program,” he began, his tone betraying a note of skepticism. “I don’t care what they say. You are replacing a student who produced acceptable results far above the other students in this institution. I have my eye on you. You’ve missed considerable time; you’re two weeks behind. I’ve forwarded your makeup assignments to your com,” Langley stated, clipped and businesslike. “Any questions?”
Kovacs swallowed hard. “Sir, when is the makeup work due?”
The professor’s eyes narrowed slightly as if gauging the young man’s resolve. “Good. At least you don’t whine about the unfairness. I want it back in a week. And just so you know, the rest of your professors feel much the same. You are dismissed.”
Kovacs left the classroom with a heavy heart, the weight of the day’s revelations pressing down on him. Each of his classes followed a similar pattern—professors with little patience for his delayed start and a mountain of catch-up work that seemed insurmountable. When he returned to his small rented flat, he was exhausted, his mind reeling from the demands placed upon him.
He sat down to a meager meal—a ration pack, its taste as bland as his mood—before reluctantly turning to his com. The numerous notifications reminded him of the assignments he had missed and the work that awaited him. One message, however, caught his eye: Iron Reaper; Your item has Sold.
Kovacs felt a flicker of excitement, momentarily lifting the gloom that had settled over him. He stiffly stood and hobbled over to his bed, where he retrieved the headset for Iron Reaper. Dry-mouthed, he started the program and brought up the in-game bank. The numbers stared back at him in disbelief; the Epona had sold far quicker than anticipated. “That’s a relief,” he murmured, logging off to refocus on the daunting pile of schoolwork.
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Kovacs had developed a methodical approach to his studies over the years: tackle the hardest subject first and work his way to the easiest. However, each of the four classes in the mech design program presented its own unique challenges. He decided to start with Materials Science and Engineering for Mecha. The class delved into the materials used in mecha construction, exploring advanced alloys, composites, and other high-performance materials. The subject was immediately relevant, and its potential applications in mecha design were both exciting and intimidating.
Kovacs immersed himself in the material for two hours, poring over the chapters he had missed. The familiarity of some of the content from his technician track was a small comfort, but the advanced math, chemistry, and physics quickly overwhelmed him. Frustration built steadily until he hurled the textbook across the room in a moment of exasperation. It landed with a satisfying thud against the wall, but the release was fleeting. His eyes fell on the band strapped to his arm, which interfaced with the system.
“I wonder,” he mused, eyeing the band thoughtfully. The memory of the Directed Neural Download surfaced in his mind. “It couldn’t hurt, right?” he asked himself, the allure of an easy solution too tempting to resist. With a determined nod, he reached for the headset, his thoughts already turning to how he could use the Iron Reaper system to help him overcome this academic mountain.
Kovacs slipped the headset on, the world around him fading as the virtual environment of Iron Reaper booted up. The familiar loading screen flickered briefly before giving way to a vast, metallic landscape where towering mechas moved with precision and purpose. The interface materialized before him, a sleek, holographic display that hovered just above eye level.
He navigated to the system store, his heart pounding slightly as he scrolled through the options. The classes were all there, each promising to provide the edge he desperately needed. But with only 512 points in his account, he could only afford three out of the four essential courses. The thought gnawed at him as he opened the class descriptions individually.
Robotics and Automated Systems: Kovacs lingered on this one. It promised to cover the principles of robotics, focusing on designing and programming automated systems integral to mecha operation. Topics included robot kinematics, control systems, and using artificial intelligence in robotics. This class was foundational, something that would not only enhance his understanding of mecha but also improve his practical skills in programming and automation.
But then there was Advanced Mechatronics, a course that delved into integrating mechanical, electronic, and computer systems. Kovacs knew mastering this would allow him to create more functional and responsive mechas. The curriculum boasted modules on sensor integration, actuator control, and real-time system optimization—critical skills for anyone serious about mecha design. He could already see how this knowledge could directly impact the work he’d been struggling with in his other classes.
His eyes drifted to Materials Science and Engineering for Mecha. He had already begun this class in the real world, proving to be a significant challenge. The virtual course promised to deepen his understanding of advanced alloys, composites, and other high-performance materials. It would cover material properties, stress testing, and developing new materials for specific mecha applications. This was essential knowledge that would allow him to innovate in ways that few others could.
Finally, there was Structural Dynamics and Control. This class would examine the dynamic behavior of mecha structures under various operational conditions. It included lessons on vibration analysis, stability control, and designing structural components to withstand extreme forces. Kovacs could see the immediate value in this—without a solid understanding of structural dynamics, any mecha design he attempted would be at risk of catastrophic failure.
Kovacs clenched his fists, his mind racing as he considered the options. Each class was crucial, offering something he desperately needed to succeed. But he could only afford three. The thought of leaving one out felt like a betrayal of his potential, a choice that could cripple his future work.
“Which one do I cut?” he muttered, the weight of the decision pressing down on him like a physical force. He couldn’t afford to make the wrong choice—not when he was already far behind.
The minutes ticked by as he agonized over the decision. Robotics and Automated Systems was foundational, a course that would build his skills for everything else. Advanced Mechatronics would allow him to make his designs truly responsive and efficient, an apparent necessity. But Materials Science and Engineering for Mecha was a current struggle, and without a more profound understanding, he’d continue to flounder. Then, there was Structural Dynamics and Control, the knowledge to prevent a future disaster in his designs.
Finally, with a deep breath, Kovacs made his decision. He couldn’t afford to leave his current weakness unchecked, not when it was already causing him so much trouble. He selected Materials Science and Metallurgy, Robotics and Automated Systems, and Advanced Physics. It was painful to leave out Structural Dynamics and Control, but he hoped the knowledge from the other three classes would give him enough foundation to tackle it later.
His points dropped to sixty-two as he finalized the purchase and the courses downloaded into his mind. Pain washed through his head as the information was written into his mind. He grunted with the pain and put all of his willpower and resolve settled over him. He didn’t have all the resources he needed, but he had made the best choices he could. Now, it was time to see if those choices would pay off and face the consequences of his decisions.