Ryan sat cross-legged at the small workbench Herta had assigned him, brow furrowed.
Herta had disappeared again—probably to some Genius Society online meeting or chasing another interest.
This suited him fine.
Electronic draft papers covered the surface before him, filled with messy circuit diagrams and magnetic field line sketches.
Beside him lay components scavenged from the lab’s recycling area, several dull-colored stones, and a set of mini tools.
“Electromagnetic induction… old Faraday must be rolling in his grave in this world.”
Ryan muttered, picking up a dark purple stone.
He’d found it in a box labeled “low-activity imaginary residue.” The Herta doll had tried to stop him, saying it was garbage.
“Garbage? Ha! In a true scientist’s eyes, there’s no such thing as garbage—only misplaced resources!”
Ryan had declared righteously, then swiped a few pieces when the doll wasn’t looking.
He’d been mulling over the electromagnetic induction knowledge in his head for days.
The theory was clear, but practice was another story.
This world’s physics were a bit mischievous, especially regarding this “imaginary internal energy” business.
He wanted to make something—something that would prove his ideas.
A small device that could continuously generate an alternating magnetic field without external power.
In plain terms, he wanted to build a “perpetual motion” toy based on this world’s physics.
But perpetual motion machines don’t exist.
The Second Law of Thermodynamics makes them impossible.
But this isn’t Earth.
What if…?
Even if he couldn’t build a true perpetual motion machine, he could create something close.
Not for practical use—just to prove something.
He could do it.
“First, need an oscillation circuit foundation…”
He picked up a discarded coil and a small capacitor, connecting them with wires.
Then he placed the dark purple imaginary residue carefully beside the coil.
“You’re the key, buddy. Theoretically, your imaginary internal energy can act as… an energy catalyst? Or maybe a resonator? during magnetic field fluctuations.”
He wasn’t entirely sure, but that was the beauty of experimentation.
He took a deep breath, focused, and used his ability to create an extremely weak but stable-frequency alternating magnetic field in the coil.
Buzz…
The coil vibrated slightly.
The capacitor began charging and discharging.
A textbook LC oscillation—but the energy was rapidly decaying, about to stop.
Ryan immediately shifted his attention to the imaginary residue.
He tried to “excite” it with his own magnetic field ability—not by force-injecting energy, but by finding a resonant frequency like a tuning fork.
Once, twice…
Failure.
The imaginary residue showed no response, like an ordinary rock.
“Wrong? Wrong frequency, or wrong approach?” Ryan scratched his head.
“Could the Herta doll be right? Is this really garbage?”
He refused to believe it.
Scientific exploration never went smoothly!
Instead of directly exciting it, he let his generated alternating magnetic field slowly envelop the stone, feeling the subtle flows of energy within.
“Oh?” He sensed something different.
When his magnetic field frequency reached a specific value, the internal glow of the stone seemed to flow slightly faster—and in return, it gave a faint “response” to his field.
He steadied the frequency, carefully maintaining this wondrous resonance.
Something amazing happened.
The oscillation in the coil didn’t decay and stop as before.
Instead, it sustained itself—and its intensity even…
increased slightly.
The increase was negligible, but it was continuous.
“Success! Ha! I knew it!”
Ryan nearly jumped up, staring at the coil circuit humming away on its own without his continuous power, his heart swelling with accomplishment.
This device was currently useless—besides consuming the initial activation energy he’d injected and the faint imaginary internal energy within the stone, it couldn’t power anything.
But it proved the principle was sound.
Imaginary internal energy could indeed interact with electromagnetic induction to produce wondrous effects.
“Hmm, need an output display…”
Ryan’s eyes darted around and landed on a small Herta doll wiping instruments nearby—the same one he’d shocked twice before.
A mischievous grin spread across his face.
He found a crude analog micro-ammeter, removed its casing, and connected the meter’s leads to his oscillation circuit’s output.
Then he adjusted the circuit parameters so the output alternating current frequency was extremely low—low enough for the sluggish needle to follow its slow back-and-forth swing.
Click…
click…
The needle began oscillating gently across the dial’s center in a specific rhythm.
“Perfect! A battery-free hypnotic desk ornament!” Ryan nodded with satisfaction.
He crept up behind the little Herta doll, who was focused on polishing optical lenses, holding his crude device.
“Herta.” Ryan called out.
The doll paused, slowly turned around, purple eyes regarding him without emotion, polishing cloth still in hand.
“Can I help you? If this is another conductivity test, I will activate my automatic counter-attack module.”
“No no, this time it’s something good.” Ryan beamed, presenting the clicking ammeter to her.
“A little gift. See? It moves on its own. No batteries needed. Symbolizing… um… the eternity and charm of science.”
The doll looked down at the slowly swinging needle and tilted her head.
A few seconds later, she looked up.
“Weak and meaningless periodic electromagnetic fluctuations. Negligible energy level. Practical value: zero. Aesthetic value: pending assessment—leaning toward low.”
Ryan’s smile froze.
“Hey, no sense of humor at all. This is art. Scientific art.”
“According to Madam Herta’s priority settings, the artistic value of cleaning work exceeds that of this unidentified moving object.”
The doll turned back and resumed polishing, ignoring him.
Ryan huffed and placed the “eternal swinger” on a nearby shelf, letting it click away.
“Philistine. Once I can power a fan or a large machine with this, we’ll see if you still say it has zero practical value.”
He returned to his workbench to refine his design.
He needed to increase energy conversion efficiency—make it actually do something.
As he worked, the electromagnetic field in the lab’s control area fluctuated.
She immediately spotted the slowly swinging ammeter on the shelf and the imaginary residue beside it that seemed slightly dimmer than before.
She controlled the doll to walk over, extending a small hand to sense the energy flow there.
“Using low-activity imaginary residue’s residual internal energy, coupled with basic electromagnetic induction, to achieve a low-efficiency energy-maintaining cycle?”
Herta’s voice carried a hint of interest as she continued her assessment.
“The approach… has some merit. Though the efficiency is low, and the design is as crude as an Interastral Peace Kindergarten craft project.”
Ryan looked up at the sound of her voice and straightened, a touch of pride in his voice: “Madam Herta, you saw it? I built it independently! Based on electromagnetic induction and imaginary internal energy—”
“I saw.” Herta cut him off.
“A useless little swinging needle.”
Ryan: “…”
He should’ve known.
“However,” Herta continued, “your ability to utilize discarded materials and find a crude method to resonate with their internal energy proves your brain occasionally functions.”
That was probably the closest thing to praise Ryan had ever heard from her.
“Perfect timing,” Herta said, controlling the doll to retrieve several documents and a design projection from a nearby storage unit.
“I have a small project requiring a micro-vibration sensor capable of operating in high-radiation, high-interference environments. Traditional power methods tend to fail in such conditions. Your… toy there, crude as it is, has principles worth referencing.”
She enlarged the design—a far more sophisticated micro-oscillator and energy-harvesting circuit.
“Care to collaborate?” The Herta doll looked at Ryan, her purple eyes devoid of emotion, but her tone carried the unmistakable flavor of “I’m doing you a favor by offering this opportunity.”
“I’ll provide the optimization theory and core materials. You’ll use your abilities to handle the most critical energy excitation and stabilization steps. Though at your current level, the probability of failure is high.”
Ryan stared at the complex design, feeling both nervous and—more strongly—a thrill of recognition and challenge.
“Failure is the mother of success—wait no, the mother of success is success.” He clenched his fist.
“Science advances through countless failures! I’m in!”
“Good.” Herta nodded approvingly.
“Then let’s begin. First, remove that needle—we need more precise measurements. Also, prepare yourself. You’re about to hear quite a lot of commentary regarding your control precision.”
Was his precision really that bad?
He didn’t have Parkinson’s!
His hands didn’t shake!
Ryan: “…”
The pressure was already building.
Herta didn’t collaborate with just anyone.
And when she did, it was for major projects—like the Simulated Universe.
Four geniuses working together to build a metaverse.
Though one of them might not have been born yet.
While his project’s difficulty was certainly far lower, it still showed that Herta was testing him.
After all, she could obviously build something like this herself.
This was clearly an assignment designed for him to tackle.
Looking at the advanced design and new materials Herta provided…
Failure?
Who cares!
He loved science.
SCIENCE!!