Space-time curvature tugged gently, and the glasses flew back, settling steadily into Lynn's open palm.
The temples were perfectly intact, without even a trace of the sulfurous odor from deep underground.
"Command response latency: 0.003 microseconds."
Lynn put on his glasses and adjusted the cool nose pads.
Behind the lenses, his eyes remained deep and steady, reflecting the waves of heat rising from the underground fissures.
“Modifying fundamental constants requires no additional energy expenditure. I now have read and rewrite permissions for the underlying logic of a Single Universe.”
He walked beneath the ventilation duct and looked up at the ceiling.
His gaze pierced every intervening layer and landed on the crimson wall of metal beyond the atmosphere.
Tony Stark was hanging from a handrail at Observation Station Three, drenched in sweat as he repaired a severed higher-dimensional cable with a laser welding torch.
Bruce Wayne sat in the control cabin, his face pale as he watched the gravity readings fluctuate bizarrely across the radar screen.
"Is the boss... playing with gravity like it's a spring?"
Tony's hoarse murmur echoed through the encrypted channel, yet Lynn heard every word.
Lynn withdrew his gaze, his mouth settling into a flat line.
These workers were still measuring the world with the ruler of classical mechanics, while the scalpel in his hand could already slice through the markings on that ruler at will.
His gaze shifted, and his attention settled on his right arm.
The six-colored galaxy totem beneath his skin revolved slowly, establishing a deep connection with the vast space inside him that had just completed its cycle of intake and release.
The external Single Universe was certainly immense, but the curtain was only now rising on Lynn's private domain.
With a slight shift of thought, Lynn's figure faded where he stood,