Dax Wrenchphibian tightened the last bolt on his prototype engine and stepped back. His orange hands trembled with excitement. For three years, he'd worked toward one goal: building the first warp drive that could break light speed. The metal frame hummed on his workshop table. It wasn't much to look at yet, but the math was solid. Tomorrow he would run the first test. Morning light streamed through the workshop windows. Dax dragged the futuristic solar panel array outside and angled it toward Nereidum's twin suns. The reflective surfaces caught the light perfectly. He ran cables back to his workshop and connected them to the engine's power input. The panels would generate enough energy for a real test. His heart raced as the displays flickered to life. Numbers climbed steadily on the screen. This was it—the moment that would prove his calculations worked. He pressed the activation switch and held his breath. The engine whirred for three seconds, then sparked. Smoke poured from the primary coil. Dax grabbed a fire suppressor and sprayed foam across the prototype. His hands shook as he disconnected the power cables. The workshop was too exposed. Too small. He needed a proper facility—somewhere hidden where he could work without drawing attention. That afternoon, Dax hiked into the rock formations beyond the settlement. He found a cave system with a natural chamber deep underground. The titanium door he installed sealed the entrance completely. Inside, he had room for a full-scale laboratory. Down here, away from everyone, he could build the real warp drive. He could finally break light speed. For the next week, Dax hauled equipment down into his underground laboratory. He moved the solar panels to the surface above the cave and ran new cables through the rock. He set up the titanium-copper telescope near the lab entrance, pointing it through a natural crack toward the night sky. The green obsidian lens would help him study distant stars and measure their speed. He needed accurate data to calibrate the warp drive properly. Each night, he recorded readings and adjusted his calculations. The failed test had shown him where the design was weak. Now he knew what to fix. His new lab gave him everything he needed—power, space, and privacy. Here, hidden beneath Nereidum's surface, he would build the engine that changed everything.

Dax crouched over his workbench and spread out the star charts. The telescope data from last night showed patterns he'd never noticed before. Light bent around massive objects in space, creating ripples he could measure. Understanding these ripples was the first step toward breaking through them. But theory alone wouldn't build a warp drive. He needed more knowledge—real research from scientists who'd studied faster-than-light travel. His own experiments had failed because he was missing something fundamental. Dax rolled up the charts and grabbed his pack. If anyone on Nereidum had collected serious physics research, it would be stored somewhere official. Somewhere with resources he didn't have in his cave. The research laboratory sat in a valley three kilometers from his underground workshop. Red-orange walls rose from the rocky ground, built from alien stone reinforced with copper and titanium. Dax pushed through the entrance and stopped. Shelves lined every wall, packed with books and research papers. Computer terminals hummed along the back wall, their screens displaying equations he'd only dreamed about. He walked to the nearest shelf and pulled down a thick volume on warp theory. The pages were filled with diagrams of space-time curves and energy thresholds. His hands trembled as he grabbed another book, then another. Here was everything—the missing pieces, the calculations he needed, the proof that breaking light speed was possible. He loaded his pack with as many volumes as he could carry and sat at a terminal. For hours, he read and took notes. When he finally left, the twin suns were setting. His head buzzed with new ideas. Now he could rebuild his engine the right way. Back in his underground lab, Dax spread the research papers across his workbench. One diagram showed how extreme temperatures could destroy experimental engines during high-energy tests. His first prototype had overheated and sparked because he had no way to cool it down. The research was clear—he needed a storage tank for ultra-cold liquids. Something that could feed coolant directly into the engine during testing. Dax sketched a design on his notebook. A sleek tank with copper accents would fit perfectly beside his workbench. He could pump cryogenic fluid through tubes into the engine's core, keeping the temperature stable even when the power surged. The solution was simple, but he'd never thought of it before. He had the knowledge now. He had the plans. Tomorrow he would start building the cooling system, and then he could safely test the warp drive again. Three days later, Dax finished welding the coolant tank and stepped back to check his work. The copper accents gleamed under the lab lights. He'd also built a backup generator and installed it near the cave entrance. If the solar panels failed during a critical test, the generator would keep everything running. He couldn't afford another shutdown. Not when he was this close. Dax turned to his rebuilt engine prototype and connected the cooling tubes. The cryogenic tank was full and ready. The generator hummed quietly in the corner. He had power, cooling, and the research to guide him. Everything was finally in place. Tomorrow he would run a proper test—one that wouldn't end in smoke and failure. His heart pounded as he checked the connections one last time. The warp drive was no longer just a dream. It was real, and it was almost ready.