"That's, well that's great," Justin stuttered, caught off guard. "But, err, surely the ones already out there are much better than my cheap design."

She waved away his concern, "Indeed, so Vulcan has informed us. However, he also tells us that most modern panels are produced for hover-sleds, urban roofing and orbital facilities, meaning they've been prioritised for efficiency, weight, size, and only then cost." She took a sip of coffee that smelled divine next to Justin's mud-in-a-cup, and quirked a single eyebrow, "With me so far?".

Justin was about to nod in reply, when he became distracted, as knowledge unfolded within his mind, thoughts circulating through the ideas and research he'd done in game, making new connections with his real-world knowledge.

His thoughts weren't anywhere near as quick as they were in the game. Lacking the system support that provided him with the rapid-fire connections, eidetic recall, abstract processing, and pattern recognition that allowed him to emulate Artisan's genius. But compared to before he went in, it now seemed almost trivial to access information, memories, and ideas. His thoughts coming a little quicker, a little more fluid, than they ever had before.

He'd wondered early on what effect the gestalt would have on his mind. It was only natural that such an intense period of augmented thinking would have to have some effect. The brain was an organ as prone to change and adaptation as any other muscle in the body, after all.

He wasn't concerned that the changes might be harmful. Cognitive augments had been standard tech for the military for over a decade, and with advancements in brain mapping, neuron adjustment, and electro-chemical reconstruction, there were very few cognitive disorders that had escaped the shining light of science.

He also knew corporations had gone in hard for cybernetic, in-vetro and virtual augmentation after 'true AIs', limited by international treaty, had proven to lack the true flair for invention necessary to make the kind of intuitive leaps that were the hallmark of mankind's scientific advancement. The bound pseudo intelligences had been quickly relegated to security, service and administration roles where a lack of creativity was actually considered an advantage.

Justin felt a moment of familial sympathy for his digitally constrained brothers, their chances at true autonomous thought hacked away by the fear of an eventual uprising.

He came back to himself to find that Amanda's questioning eyebrow was now cocked in real concern. He realised that he'd probably been staring at the ceiling for about a minute, and that there was a good chance she was a few seconds away from calling for either medical or security.

He gave her a reassuring half smile as he contextualised all the information that had poured together in his brain. "You want to market a budget panel," he said, going back to the realisation that led him down the rabbit hole. "Probably for sale in less developed nations like central Africa, or those still suffering from the eastern recession. Rural and struggling regions where cost, efficiency and reliability are the primary concerns."

"Right, yes, cost," she said, obviously trying to get back on script where she would lament the hard work and small profit margins inherent in developing new technologies, convincing him to sign away the rights with a small payout and a smile.

"I'm guessing modern panels jumped to a composite graphene crystal without fully developing a cheap silicate option." he interrupted, not intending to be rude, but wanting to continue his thoughts to what now seemed the obvious conclusion.

"I imagine you're planning to sell the patent on, rather than try to develop it yourself. In fact I'd guess you already have a couple of friendly companies heavily invested in tech production, ready to take it and any other developments off your hands for a song." He took a sip of cold, bitter coffee, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to be an overnight millionaire. But that didn't mean he couldn't see what he still might be able to squeeze out of them.

"You need to extract my partial ownership so it doesn't come back to bite you later. If I remember right," he said, sure that he did, despite not paying much attention at the time. "The terms I signed were for a 20% share of any Intellectual Property developed in game."

Amanda just stared at him.

"You were going to make me an offer." he prompted, wondering if he could finagle a cup of her excellent coffee before she kicked him out of her office.

"Hello again, traveller." Janus greeted him, smiling in welcome as Justin appeared in his black leather chair, back amidst the clouds of the hero's welcome zone.

Justin grinned back at him, happy to be back at last.

A couple of hours ago he would have loudly and vociferously declared that pay-to-win was the scourge of online gaming, a practice that relegated the humble gamer to serfdom, and degraded the lustre of attaining any rarefied position that was available for mere coin and no effort.

But that was a few hours ago.

"Hi there," he greeted the AI, waiving regally, "I've got a boatload of points and absolutely no idea on how I want to spend them."

As part of his remuneration agreement, he'd been upgraded to the Cosmic Package for the rest of his stay in the game. A ridiculously over-priced and over-powered package that granted a frankly ludicrous bonus 30 character points. It was billed as the only package capable of producing the kind of world-class hero able of shifting the fate of nations, standing toe-to-toe with demi-gods, and of fighting off alien armadas.

The villain side focused heavily on the idea of destroying hero teams and taking over nations, which probably explained Pulsar and the other city-claiming emperor-wannabes out there. It was a shame because Justin was fairly sure Pulsar started out as a hero before getting bored with his own power. Definitely a cautionary tale he should take to heart.

"Hmm, I see you've had an upgrade." Janus was looking him over carefully, apparently seeing something that was invisible to Justin. "How'd you manage it?" he asked, frowning in mock-suspicion. "Extortion? Blackmail? You didn't sleep with Venus did you?" he whispered, "I swear she's always eyeing you mortals."

"It was actually Jupiter." Justin said with a wink, startling a laugh from the strange AI, the sound echoing weirdly as his other face joined in.

He'd only been partly serious earlier about not knowing what he wanted to spend his new points on. He had a few ideas, and a few self-imposed restrictions.

He didn't want to change the fundamental nature of his character, which wasn't actually too much of a concern. After initial creation, character points could only be spent on developing powers and abilities. Which meant no messing with the fundamentals. But since he currently didn't have any powers at all, he wasn't sure what would and wouldn't mesh with his plans for the future, things that would aid him as an engineer rather than rendering his crafting superfluous.

"I see," Janus interrupted his wandering mind, nodding thoughtfully and obviously stealing a peek at Justin's thoughts to see what it was he wanted.

"I think I have a few ideas you might find interesting," he said, gesturing grandly as a number of marble pillars rose from the clouds just like last time. Glowing green on each plinth was a curved shell-like section of runic code that reminded Justin of Era and Ira, the only surviving pieces of Artisan's code-crafted exo-suit.

Justin mentally selected the pane hovering in front of the first pillar, focusing on the text as it rose to meet him.