I sat at the dining table, absolutely baffled after Elias had just finished explaining the uncanny similarities between what he remembered and the movies he was watching. The TV in the living room hummed softly in the background, giving him the space to indulge in his cinematic marathon while I stewed in my own thoughts. I could hardly believe that one of the most influential franchises in modern culture was loosely based on a story over 115,000 years old.

  Without warning, the movie’s intro popped into my head, and I let out a snort:

  "A long time ago in a galaxy not so far away!"

  That line triggered another realization. If I considered that, and the fragmented images I’d seen in the shards, then genies and wishes were not mere myth. They were, to some extent, actively shaping modern life.

  I shook my head slowly, murmuring to myself, "This is ridiculous."

  Humankind had access to at least four of the genies, based on what I remembered from the shards, and yet the world was still rife with slavery, starvation, and war. How could that be?

  I felt tired; this negative line of thought wouldn’t change anything, and the past couldn’t be altered. But I could change it now. I looked between the items on the table and the container next to it, filled to the brim. Could I use wishes to fix the planet? I remembered Elias’s warning:

  All wishes are both a blessing and a curse. All power demands a price. Balance in all accounts.

  How many wishes would it take? I sat back in my chair, scanning the room—suspiciously clean now that my daughters weren’t here. The parallel hit me like a brick. If I used a wish to clean the house, my daughters would inadvertently enact the second law of thermodynamics. I let out a laugh, "The entropy of the universe increases in all natural processes."

  I recalled the love-filled memory of my two laughing, running, and screaming hurricanes playing in the house, and a bittersweet smile crept across my face.

  Then, suddenly, the house grew much darker, quieter, and colder. How would I fix that with a wish? Either limit the things they could interact with or limit them altogether. I shuddered at the thought. No, a wish was not the answer. Teaching them to clean and allowing them to learn and grow up was the only viable solution. The human race needed time to learn and mature, and being isolated from the greater galaxy was not helping. I needed to fix the isolation, to reconnect Earth to the Power and Will of the universe.

  Perhaps the great unifier of the human race might just be the fact that there are aliens.

  [Update to estimated time to ship completion]

  [Estimate: 103 hours]

  Ooo, that was good news. I focused on the gauntlet and sent my thanks and a “well done” to the ship AI.

  I looked up at the items arranged around the table. It was time to do this. I stood up and walked to the living room.

  "Hey Elias, I'm as ready as I can be to meet the others. Let's get this over with."

  Elias nodded, and we returned to the table together.

  "Okay, just by the nature of your last wish, you should be master of all these Jin. But please, touch each of the items on the table to be sure. I also recommend touching the items in the container later."

  I circled the table, running my fingers over each artifact with measured steps, examining their weight and texture, their silent testimony to forgotten power. Finally, I returned to the head of the small six-seat table where Elias waited.

  He clapped his hands softly.

  "Your master calls."

  At that moment, cosmic smoke began to billow from every item on the table. The swirling vapor danced in the dim light, coalescing gradually until it formed five distinct figures. They bowed at almost exactly 45 degrees, their movements eerily synchronized, as if rehearsed in some ancient ritual.

  A small, sceptical part of my mind, previously, insisted that all of this was a massive joke, that this couldn’t possibly be real. And yet, even that part whispered, "Holy shit, magic is real."

  I watched as Elias began to introduce them, my eyes darting between the ethereal figures before me. He started with the male Jin, who stood directly across from me.

  "This is the greatest Byzantine strategist, Belisarius," Elias announced. Belisarius dipped his head toward me. There was a stillness about him, the kind that comes with age but not weariness. His face was carved in sharp planes and angles, and his posture was straight, his gaze unwavering. He wore a dark tunic, simple, precise, without excess, and he commanded attention without a word. His silence spoke volumes, as if he had already answered every question before it could even form.

  Next, Elias pointed to the female Jin seated to my right.

  "May I introduce the Vātēs Maximus of Rome, Pythia."

  I studied Pythia as she regarded the room with a calm, unhurried air. Her silver hair, long and unbound, shimmered like frost in the dim light. It was not merely the color that set her apart; it was the way she carried herself. Unruffled by haste or uncertainty, she observed the world with a patience that suggested she had known it long before it had known her. Her gown, pale as early morning, caught the light in a way that defied the simple nature of fabric. She was not cold or distant, only… elsewhere, as if her thoughts drifted in realms beyond my grasp.

  Elias then turned his attention to the female Jin seated at my left.

  "It is my honor to introduce the Amazonian warrior queen, Penthesilea."

  If the silver-haired one was a whisper, Penthesilea was a spark ready to ignite. She held herself taut, like a bowstring drawn back but not yet released. The waves of red framing her face hinted at fierce determination, an intensity that made it clear she had no time for trivialities. Her black dress, simple yet purposefully chosen, clung to her form with quiet resolve. Her eyes, dark yet bright, burned with a steady fire, reflecting the resolve of someone who had chosen her path and had no intention of looking back.

  Then Elias gestured toward the female Jin at the far end of the table.

  "And it is my great honor to introduce the calm, wise, and refined Shizuka."

  She needed no extravagant introduction. Her hair, pulled back modestly, bore no sign of vanity yet lent her an air of quiet dignity. Her robe, traditional and unassuming, spoke of careful choice rather than obligation. In her eyes was not the sharp intelligence of relentless calculation, but a steady, compassionate understanding, as if she had listened more than she had spoken. In a world that roared like a storm, she was the shelter, an anchor of truth amidst chaos.

  Finally, Elias bowed respectfully and gestured toward the last figure.

  "And lastly, may I introduce Bastet, the Egyptian goddess of protection and justice."

  Bastet slowly shook her head in mild disapproval. Her features were sharply defined, yet not unkind. Her dark hair, styled with precise determination, framed her face with an air of certainty. The blend of modern lines with ancient motifs in her attire spoke of a being who refused to be limited by time. There was a deliberate stillness in her, as if she held a silent command that defied explanation. She offered no words, only her presence—a challenge to see her as she was, without pretense.

  I stared at the five figures, each a perfect embodiment of their archetype. For a moment, I felt both awe and a strange sense of destiny. Here, before me, stood the powers that had shaped human history, summoned to serve a purpose I was yet to understand.

  "You address us by ancient titles, Eliezer, Adviser to the great King Mansa Musa," Belisarius said with a sly smile. "Some around this table have more modern names and titles."

  I could barely believe the weight of those words as they echoed in the dim light.

  Baset, taking her seat with measured certainty, said, "Indeed. And how is it that we five are here? My phylactery..." She paused, her gaze flickering toward an ornate marble and gold-trimmed figure in front of her. "...was in the top secret and very well-guarded vault of the Vatican."

  Elias— or Eliezer, as some still called him—responded from my side, "That does not matter. All that matters is that we are all here!" He bent down, picked up the plastic container holding the remainder of the phylactery, and placed it at the center of the table. "And I do mean all," he declared as he returned to stand by my side.

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  Belisarius suddenly jumped up, his eyes widening in surprise, while Pythia lost her customary calm, her gaze shifting between the container and Elias. Even the composed demeanor of Shizuka slipped, replaced by a flash of anger.

  A heavy silence fell over the room. After a long pause, Penthesilea spoke for the first time, the only one not visibly affected by Elias' revelation. "You mean to try again?" She leaned back, playing with her nails, her tone cool yet challenging. "Was it not you who said it is impossible and cautioned against hope the previous time? And now? Now the great Adviser disregards his own advice and counsel?"

  I looked between the five of them, each glaring at Elias. I turned to look at him, but he was already staring at me, expectant. Ooo, great. Let the Engineer chair this unplanned meeting unprepared! I'm out of my comfort zone, and it's way past my bedtime! Nothing good ever happens after 10. I pinched the bridge of my nose. There is no such thing as big problems—only small, solvable ones. Okay, I need information, and it seems that I must steer this meeting. Let's pretend it's a big corporate meeting: let's all go around, introduce ourselves, and share a fun fact about ourselves. The voice of our HR rep popped into my head, and I physically recoiled at the memory.

  "Okay, hi everyone. My name is Aco, Aco von Hellsing," I said, waving to each in turn, then stopping at Penthesilea. "Hi. You said that he wanted to try again," I continued, pointing with my thumb over my right shoulder, where I knew Elias was standing. "Can you explain what you mean by that?"

  "This..." Belisarius began, his voice thick with anger as he waved toward the phylactery, "has been done before! Though a great effort was made by the Jin—all 72 were gathered, and we were all betrayed!" He growled the final word.

  "Okay, so that is the reason for the adverse reaction. Understandable," I replied.

  "This time it will be different. I can feel the will of the Universe in this," Elias answered firmly, turning his attention back to Belisarius.

  "He will betray us as well!" Belisarius suddenly yelled, directing his fury at me. "They all do!"

  Why does he assume he knows me so well? I thought, irritation rising within me. I fixed my gaze on him. "And what will you do about it?" I challenged. "If I betray you, then what? Will you return to being the slave of some self-centered person, forced to grant ridiculous, vain wishes three at a time? This has been your life for... what, 115,000 years?" I pressed, watching as he slowly nodded in acknowledgment.

  "Then, my friend, it seems that you have a problem with hope, not with me!" I continued. "Because I am now in possession of your phylactery. Realistically, nothing has changed for you. So why not wait and see? Judge me on my actions." My words seemed to have a placating effect; Belisarius’s anger softened as he slowly took his seat again, and I noted that the others were now listening intently.

  "Listen here," I said, shifting my tone to one of reluctant authority. "I'm not even sure I fully understand the problem, let alone pretend to know how to fix it. All I know is that things can't continue like this. For now, let's work together to figure this out. Please."

  I looked around the table, waiting for any objections. "So if you don't mind, I would like to start with a problem statement to better understand our current challenges." I stood up and removed the container of phylacteries from the table so I could see everyone more clearly.

  "Well," I said as I sat back down, "what is the biggest risk we currently face?"

  Immediately, a chorus of voices answered: "Other humans!" "Human greed!" "The previous owners!" "Humans!" Belisarius, Penthesilea, Shizuka, and Bastet echoed these responses, with Pythia adding a moment later, "They will come for the phylacteries!"

  "Okay, so other humans are a risk," I acknowledged.

  "Easy solution, go where no humans can follow," I said. After a moment of consideration, I added, "And I think this can help." I lifted my gauntleted hand, palm up, and attempted to display the ship above it. Wait—this is a hologram. What is the range on this? I frowned as I sent a command to the gauntlet to project the ship on the table, and soon the ship materialized, floating above the surface.

  "This is so cool!" I exclaimed. I watched as the crystal on my pulse and the one on the back of my hand glowed with faint lines of light, drawing towards the ship. "This is the best thing ever!" I added in genuine awe. When I lowered my hand below the table's edge, the image vanished, only to reappear as soon as I raised the gauntlet again.

  I then rested my arm on the table as we continued our discussion.

  "This is the Corvette class spaceship. Name pending," I announced.

  "Yes, this would be a solution..." Penthesilea answered.

  "Nope," I interrupted. "This is an end goal, not a solution." I sat back, careful to keep my arm higher than the table, deep in thought. We need to do a proper pFMEA.

  "pFMEA? What is that?" Bastet asked.

  Before I could launch into a detailed explanation, Penthesilea cut in, "Why not just use a wish! It could be done already; you have plenty of wishes."

  "Not a chance in hell! You don't use a nuke to drive a nail, and I'm not risking it," I replied firmly. Turning to Bastet, I continued, "A pFMEA stands for process Failure Mode and Effects Analysis. In simple terms, we evaluate the process from the current problematic state to our desired outcome—from 'in danger' to 'safe on the ship in space'—while following and evaluating the process of getting there. It's essentially a diagnostic tool that identifies potential failure points and prioritizes risks."

  I paused, then said, "Here is an example." I removed the outer plating of the ship, revealing the network of systems beneath, and highlighted in red all the tasks that were still pending.

  "Step one – finish the retrofit and upgrade," I explained, gesturing broadly. I waited for someone to say anything.

  "This is where we identify risk," I continued. "Any risk that might prevent us from reaching our end goal. Every potential point of failure is noted, assessed, and assigned a mitigation strategy. Only by understanding these risks can we move on to the next steps."

  After waiting a few seconds, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Okay," I said, "a potential risk is that if we wait the six days for the upgrades to finish, we could get caught." I looked around the table, scanning the faces of the summoned Jin. "Do you agree with this risk?"

  Shizuka was the first to answer, her voice measured as she spoke, "I don't think so. Currently, no one knows that most of the phylacteries are missing, and those who lost one are scrambling to find the culprit that stole it. Their first suspects will be those closest to them. It will take a while before the previous owners divulge the loss of power to others. They won't be eager to admit weakness if they still suspect the others of holding power, and it will take even more time for them to pool resources to try and find you."

  I nodded slowly, absorbing her words. "Okay, what does the timeline look like in that regard?" I asked. To my astonishment, Belisarius replied, "At least a month."

  I felt a wave of relief, though tempered by the gravity of our situation. I sat back and closed my eyes, entering the mind space—a sort of virtual reality surrounding the ship. "Hey, AI, you there, buddy?" I queried.

  [Affirmative]

  I focused, then continued, "Okay, great. If all the upgrades and retrofit are done, how long would it take for the ship... you to get to Earth?" I waited, watching the blue pulsing light on my gauntleted hand. A moment later, the AI responded:

  [Travel time: 45min]

  "Ooo, that is quick! Thanks, buddy. Keep up the good work," I said with genuine admiration, feeling a spark of excitement as I exited the mind space. The last thing I saw was the AI flashing a soft pink hue.

  I then addressed the Jin. "According to the ship AI, it will take 45 minutes for them to arrive in Earth orbit." I looked around, noticing that most of the figures frowned and their eyes shifted toward Elias, yet no one spoke.

  It took us about another two hours to finalize a solution to the first identified problem—the idea of wishing for all the Jin and, in return, receiving all the problems. I rubbed my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time; this had been a long day. "Okay, so this is the solution we have. Spend the next four days buying all the supplies we need to stay on the ship for..." I dismissed with a wave of my hand, "...until we become self-sufficient."

  I had already modified several of the ship's upgrades: improved greenhouses, aquaponic systems, an area for poultry, and even transformed one of the storage facilities into a massive walk-in freezer. A notepad lying on the table displayed a detailed shopping list of everything I needed to purchase—from seeds, saplings, chickens, and fish to frozen and canned goods. The list was extensive: seeds for almost every type of vegetable, fruit tree saplings, and berry bushes; baby fish or fingerlings (as Google informed me) selected from four freshwater species; freshwater prawns and mussels; and even supplies to outfit a designated area for chickens. Since the ship lacked wood, I would have to procure that and build a coop myself, along with enough feed to last a significant period. I also included wild grass seeds to sow the area for the chickens.

  I made sure to keep my online activity inconspicuous—no googling "wish" or "genie." Every query had to be clean, methodical, and under the radar.

  Next, the ship would approach silent and fast, reaching its maximum safe atmospheric entry speed long before coming close to any detection range. It would then go dark and cold before hitting the atmosphere, burning a precise trail to the pickup point—which was yet to be determined. This was the current step.

  "Okay, the Ship AI has informed me that the vessel does not need to deploy its landing gear to open the cargo hatch below. It is capable of hovering with absolute stability, without any noise or wind disturbance. Something about its gravitational drive renders it virtually silent," I explained. I paused. "To be honest, I think the AI became irritated when I asked if the ship could hover silently. But this feature improves our odds of finding a secluded pickup point—landing 52,000 metric tons of steel on a grassy hill would not be advisable. Honestly."

  I retrieved my phone and opened the maps app.

  "You know you can link that with the gauntlet," Belisarius interjected.

  I let out a tired snort. "And 15 seconds later, men in black tactical gear kicked down my door." I had already disconnected and unplugged nearly every electronic device in the house, disabling all tracking and dictation on my phone. When not in use, it was secured in a signal-blocking tin that my wife and I reserve for no-screentime days with the girls.

  "Now, quiet—no talking when the phone is out of the tin," I said sarcastically, scrolling through potential rental locations. I was searching for a place near a field, far from any city or highway.

  After a few minutes, I placed the phone back in the tin. It was almost 4 in the morning and I was struggling. "Okay, step 1 of fixing the Universe is complete. All risks have been identified, ranked, and mitigation actions implemented. Most of the stuff I couldn't buy with cash in the next few days has been ordered online. This is me, your captain, signing out for some much-needed shut-eye!" I declared as I dismissed the holographic image of the ship, the lists, and the tooltips.

  I looked around at everyone. "Good night, guys. I'll be taking my phone with me to bed in case my wife calls, so no discussion of anything on the naughty word list!" I said, pointing to a note stuck to the wall that listed words unsafe to use—words that Siri might overhear and snitch on us.

  Then I picked up the tin containing my phone and headed for the bedroom, waving over my shoulder as I stepped away. Finally, some rest at last. I hope tomorrow brings fewer surprises.