My Ultimate Sign-in System Made Me Invincible - Chapter 436 Neverending Shocking Information

Chapter 436  Neverending Shocking Information

The group walked deeper into the Sanctuary. And the deeper they went, the quieter they became.

It wasn’t the comfortable quiet of people at ease. It was the quiet of minds working too hard to spare energy for words. Every corridor they passed through, every chamber they glimpsed, every piece of technology they saw along the walls added another layer to something that was becoming very difficult to process.

They saw fabrication bays where automated systems assembled components with mechanical precision, moving in coordinated patterns without a single human operator in sight. They saw power generation facilities that shouldn’t exist outside theoretical physics papers.

They saw things that had no business existing yet.

Gradually, without anyone saying it aloud, a shared understanding settled over the group. It was a shared understanding that releasing new technology wasn’t something difficult for Nova Technologies. It never had been. The product launches, the announcements, none of it was the result of frantic development cycles or racing competitors, not like they had any competitors to begin with. It was convenience. They released things when they felt like it.

The thought was staggering.

Kristopher was the first to voice what they were all thinking. “If word of this gets out,” he said quietly, almost to himself, “just the news alone. Not even confirmation. Just the rumor.”

“The markets would collapse,” Liana finished, her voice flat.

Nobody argued. They all knew it was true. Three months of livestreams and product launches had already pushed the world to the edge of what it could absorb. The Lucid. The Lucid Air. The livestreams that changed humanity’s reality and understanding. Each one had sent shockwaves through industries, governments, and financial systems. The base alone, a structure the size of a mid-sized American city sitting on the far side of the moon, would shatter whatever stability remained.

And it belonged to their friend. Their friend who is 18 years old.

Matt shook his head slowly. “How,” he said, using the same word he’d used in the bay. It wasn’t a question like other time, as it’s the only word that fit.

Lucy walked alongside them, with a. Alm expression and an unhurried pace. She had been answering questions as they came, filling gaps where she could, and staying quiet when the weight of something needed a moment to settle.

Matt turned to her directly. “Okay. Walk me through it. How is all of this possible? When did you even start building it?”

Liam smiled and said nothing, deferring to Lucy with a slight tilt of his head.

“The Sanctuary, as it currently stands, was completed within one month,” Lucy replied.

She continued speaking after that, elaborating on ongoing expansion work and projected additions to the complex. But nobody heard any of it.

The group had stopped walking.

“One month,” Stacy repeated.

Lucy paused and turned to face them. “Yes.”

“This,” Harper said, gesturing broadly at the corridor around them, at the facility stretching in every direction, at the sheer scale of what surrounded them. “All of this was created in one month.”

“Yes.”

Alex’s expression had gone through several phases in rapid succession and had now settled somewhere between disbelief and a kind of reluctant, unwilling acceptance.

His eyes drifted upward, toward the ceiling, and then beyond it, toward where he knew the Voyager sat in low lunar orbit. The same spacecraft from the livestreams. The one that had departed the solar system and returned. The one that passed through the Oort Cloud, something that should be impossible because of the region’s size and distance scale. The one that was several kilometers long.

“The Voyager too?” he asked.

“The Voyager was completed slightly ahead of the Sanctuary,” Lucy said.

The silence that followed was total.

They had been trying, since the moment Lucy was introduced, to build a framework that made sense of what they were seeing. They had cycled through theories. Hidden teams of engineers working in secret. Decades of preparation disguised as recent development. Some inherited technology they weren’t aware of.

But every framework collapsed against the same fixed point. Lucy had built all of it. Not teams of engineers. Not networks or through inherited systems.

It was all Lucy.

A spacecraft more advanced than anything humanity had ever produced, constructed in less time than it took most companies to complete a feasibility study. A lunar complex the size of a city, built by one mind operating without sleep, without fatigue, without limitation.

Elise pressed two fingers to her temple and closed her eyes briefly. “I’m trying,” she said, almost to herself. “I’m genuinely trying to understand the scale of what you’re telling us.”

“Take your time,” Lucy said.

Liam watched his friends quietly. He recognized the specific quality of their silence. He let them sit with it. Rushing never helped.

After a moment, he decided that words had reached their limit.

“It’ll be easier to show you than to explain,” he said. He turned to Lucy. “Give them each an exosuit.”

Lucy nodded. The instruction went out before the words had finished leaving her mouth, a silent command sent to the system. Somewhere in the facility, a drone received the order and was already moving.

His friends looked at him with fresh confusion, their questions about the base momentarily displaced by this new development.

“Wait,” Liam said simply. “Watch.”

Seven seconds later, a drone rounded the corridor bend ahead of them. It was compact and efficient, moving in a straight, silent line. Cradled in its grip were eight wristwatches, identical in design to the one on Liam’s wrist.

It stopped in front of Lucy and transferred the watches to her without ceremony, then retreated the way it had come.

Lucy distributed them one by one. “Put these on,” she said.

Nobody asked questions. The watches went on immediately, with the speed of people who had been waiting for exactly this kind of thing without knowing it.

Lucy walked them through the connection process, pairing each watch to their Lucid devices. The setup was straightforward. She answered the few questions that came up without impatience, making sure each person was synced and ready before moving on.

When everyone was connected, she stepped back slightly and looked across the group.

“Activate them,” she said.

Immediately, eight commands went out simultaneously.

What happened next was a spectacle.

Eight streams of nanites erupted from eight wristwatches at the same instant, each one catching the facility’s light as they moved. The material spread fast, flowing across shoulders and down arms, splitting at collarbones and racing outward across chests, climbing up necks and over jawlines, sealing at the wrists and ankles with seamless precision. The sound was a faint, collective hiss, like eight quiet exhales happening at once.

Within three seconds, it was done.

Eight figures stood in the corridor where eight ordinary people had been.

The suits were identical in construction but carried slight variations in the way they caught the light, each one conforming perfectly to its wearer’s frame. Visors covered their faces, reflective and clean. The material had the dark, purposeful look of something built for serious work, functional without a single wasted element.

If someone had walked into that corridor at that moment, they would not have seen eight friends on a sightseeing trip. They would have seen eight soldiers. Space marines, built for the void, armed with technology that had no civilian equivalent. The only thing missing was a weapon in each hand.

Then the visors dematerialised one by one, and the faces underneath told the real story.

Matt’s mouth was open. His eyes moved down his own arms slowly, taking in the material covering him, the way it fit, the faint hum of systems running beneath the surface. He flexed his fingers once, then again, feeling the suit move with him like a second skin.

Stacy turned her hands over in front of her face, studying them. Her expression had gone very still in the way it did when she was concentrating hard on something.

Alex looked across at the others, then down at himself, then back at the others. He said nothing, but the expression on his face said everything.

Kristopher stood straight, and for once, the composure that defined him wasn’t something he was maintaining. It had simply been replaced by something more honest, a quiet, undisguised awe that sat on his face without apology.

Lana lifted one hand and pressed her fingertips together, testing the tactile response. Her head tilted slightly, analytical even now, but her eyes were bright.

Elise laughed. It was short and sharp, the kind of laugh that escapes before you can stop it.

Harper turned slowly in a full circle, taking in his own reflection in the polished wall panel beside him, and then turned back to look at Liam with an expression that needed no translation.

Kristy raised both hands in front of her face, looked at them for one long moment, then dropped them and shook her head.

Liam watched all of it with his arms loosely crossed, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. When he saw the full grins breaking across their faces, his own widened.

He knew that look. He’d worn it himself once. They wanted to test the suits, wanted to fly, wanted to see what these things could actually do.

But that would come later.

“Hold my hand,” he said. “I’ll take you somewhere where everything will make sense.”

Hearing this, his friends that were admiring each other’s look, immediately held his hand. They didn’t bother asking where they are going. That’s just how much they trust Liam.

The next moment, they all, including Liam, vanished from the spot.