Kovacs removed the headset, blinking as the real world came back into focus. His decision weighed on him, but there was no time to dwell on it. He had new tools at his disposal and was determined to make them count. He glanced at the pile of textbooks on his desk, the one he'd thrown earlier still resting where it had bounced off the wall.

"Right," he muttered to himself, retrieving the book and flipping it open to the section on material properties. "Round two."

He settled into his chair, the text sprawled out before him. With a deep breath, Kovacs started reading, expecting the same confusing jumble of numbers and terms, but to his surprise, things were starting to click.

"Okay, let's see," he mumbled as he scanned the page. "So, titanium alloys… higher tensile strength, lower density. Got it. Composites... combine different materials to enhance properties. That makes sense now."

Kovacs couldn’t help but feel a small surge of confidence as the concepts he had previously struggled with began to make sense. He continued working through the material, pausing occasionally to test his understanding. The complex equations that had once seemed insurmountable now felt manageable, as if the fog in his mind had begun to clear.

"Stress testing... it's just measuring how much a material can take before it fails," he said aloud, tapping his pen against the textbook. "Why did that seem so impossible before?"

He hit a snag when he reached the section on strain rate sensitivity. The words on the page seemed to blur together again, and he could feel his frustration building. With a sigh, Kovacs reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a small rubber duck. It was an old habit he'd picked up from his early tech classes, something his instructors had called "rubber duck debugging."

"Okay, Duck," he said, holding the small toy before him, "let's talk this out."

He placed the duck on his desk, staring at it as if it were an old friend. "So, strain rate sensitivity," he began, as if explaining to the duck would help solidify the concept in his mind. "It's about how materials react under different rates of loading. Faster loading can make some materials stronger and others weaker. Right?"

The duck stared back, silent as ever, and Kovacs continued. "But why does that matter? If you're designing a mecha, you need to know how the materials will behave in combat. If the strain rate is high, like during a fast impact, you don’t want the material to fail unexpectedly. So, it’s about predicting how the material will perform under stress."

He paused, glancing at the duck. "That makes sense. It’s all about understanding the limits so you can design around them."

Kovacs found himself nodding, and the act of explaining out loud helped to organize his thoughts. "Exactly. You can’t just pick a material because it’s strong at rest; you have to think about how it behaves under real-world conditions."

He flipped through the following few pages, a growing sense of satisfaction as more pieces fell into place. The earlier confusion had given way to clarity, and Kovacs could feel his progress. The neural download had provided a much-needed boost, but talking through the problems had solidified his understanding.

"Okay, Duck," Kovacs said with a grin, "let’s see what else we can conquer today."

He continued, tackling equations and theories that had once seemed impossible. Occasionally, he’d pick up the duck again, discussing a problem or concept until it made sense. A feeling of control gradually replaced the sense of isolation and frustration that weighed on him earlier.

When he finally closed the textbook for the day, Kovacs felt a deep sense of accomplishment. The material no longer felt like an insurmountable wall but a series of challenges he could overcome. He placed the duck back in his drawer with a satisfied nod.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Thanks, Duck,” he said quietly. “We made some real progress today.”

Kovacs returned to his desk with a newfound sense of clarity and purpose, slipping the Iron Reaper headset back on. The virtual environment once again enveloped him, but he wasn't here to agonize over choices this time. He was here to create.

The system interface opened smoothly, and Kovacs navigated to the design workshop, his mind buzzing with ideas. The knowledge he had just absorbed was fresh, and he was eager to put it into practice. The interface was familiar, yet it now seemed filled with potential—potential that he was finally beginning to understand.

"Alright," he muttered to himself as he brought up the blank canvas of the mecha design screen. "Let’s see what we can do."

He keyed in the name first: Idelomantis diabolucum —Devils Mantis, as he would likely refer to it in the field. The name carried a sense of menace and agility, perfectly fitting his vision.

Kovacs started by sketching out the basic frame. He wanted a fast scout that could move quickly across varied terrain while still packing enough firepower to handle infantry and light fortifications. The speed was critical—a minimum walking speed of 54 miles per hour and a running speed of 72 miles per hour.

He leaned forward, focusing on the frame’s construction. The key to achieving these speeds would be weight reduction without sacrificing structural integrity. His recent Materials Science and Engineering studies for Mecha emphasized the importance of material choice. He began selecting advanced alloys and composites that offered high strength-to-weight ratios. The frame would mix titanium alloys for the primary structure and carbon fiber composites for secondary elements.

As he worked, Kovacs started talking aloud, a habit quickly becoming second nature. "The core frame... it needs to be light but strong. Titanium for the primary supports, carbon fiber for the armor plating—light enough to keep the speed up, but durable enough to withstand small arms fire."

He brought up an old schematic from the dawn of mecha technology—a relic of a bygone era. The design was crude compared to modern standards, but it had a certain rugged simplicity that appealed to him. "Old tech," he mused, "but it could work. If I can integrate materials from slightly later that would be possible at the time, can I keep that simplicity while boosting performance." He mused.

Next, he moved on to the fusion systems. The Mantis needed to be quick off the mark, able to dart through hostile territory with ease. He needed power for the muscles and lots of it. He selected a high-efficiency fusion reactor that had been modified to make it more compact and a tad more robust.

"The reactor is going to push the Mantis to its limits," Kovacs murmured, his fingers flying over the controls. "But with the right balance, it’ll fly across the ground. I just need to make sure the power distribution is stable."

The Advanced Mechatronics class's neural download gave him crucial insights into integrating these systems. He adjusted the sensor placement and actuator control systems, ensuring the Devil's Mantis would respond instantly to commands. It was a delicate balance—too much power in one area, and the mecha could become unstable at high speeds.

Kovacs sat back for a moment, considering his next move. The Devil's Mantis wasn’t just about speed; it needed to be able to defend itself. He envisioned a pair of lightweight, retractable flamethrowers mounted on the forearms—perfect for close-quarters combat against infantry. He paired these with a set of high-rate-of-fire machine guns mounted on the shoulders, optimized for anti-infantry roles.

"Flamethrowers for close encounters," he muttered, placing the weapons on the virtual model. "Machine guns for range. This thing will be a nightmare for anything on the ground."

Satisfied with the layout, he turned his attention to the control systems. The Mantis needed to be responsive, agile, and capable of operating in complex environments. His knowledge of Robotics and Automated Systems came into play here. He integrated a rudimentary AI system capable of assisting with navigation and target acquisition, ensuring the pilot could focus on broader tactical decisions.

As he refined the design, Kovacs felt a surge of confidence. This wasn’t just a theoretical exercise—it was an actual, functional design that could be brought to life. He could see the Devil's Mantis moving across the battlefield, a blur of speed and precision.

"All that’s left is testing," he said, saving the design. "But that’s for another day. For now, let’s see what the system thinks."

He ran the design through a series of virtual simulations, watching the Devil Mantis speed across digital landscapes, engaging targets ruthlessly. The simulations confirmed what he had hoped—his design was sound, and the materials and systems worked harmoniously to create a fast, deadly scout mecha.

Kovacs removed the headset with a satisfied grin. He had turned his knowledge into something tangible, something real. The Devil's Mantis wasn’t just an idea anymore; it was a design ready for the next step. And Kovacs knew, with certainty, that he was finally on the right path.