Authors Note: Seeing as I've made a solid 3 attempts to start up a fanfiction, I've concluded I should try something I can pick up and put down at will and not feel bad about it, nor need to make 10k word chapters to have an adequate story or purpose. With some time brainstorming I found that making a sort of journal for a hero would be my best chance - if I ever lost motivation or time to write, it wouldn't be the end of the world since we already have Moira's ending point in mind in terms of where she's at right now in the lore. Although I wouldn't expect anything profound from this fic, I feel like just exploring O'deorain's mind should be fun for however long my motivation lasts.
Oh! Also, be aware that my assumed timeline for these events may not be 100% accurate given that our current chain of events provided to us by Blizzard is very - shall we say - bare bones.
Graduation;
I'm not one typically to adopt pen and paper to chronicle my own life or current events - I never found much amusement nor nostalgia in dwelling in the past unless it possessed information I may need to fall back on later - but at the continued behest of my mother, I can't help but oblige her wishes. Even if I presently have some disdain for my time being whittled away by simply scrawling away into a book I anticipate I shall rarely go back and read for posterity's sake, at least mother will finally have one less reason to persist in her haranguing me to "start writing down your life's journey" as she put it. She makes this whole idea out to be far more profound and important than it has any right to be, but perhaps given time I'll come to appreciate her coaxing me in this direction. It wouldn't be the first time mother's persistence ended up guiding my path towards a more content future.
I can only wonder what possessed her to put so much more force into getting me to begin writing today than any other time, though. Not during my years of ahead-of-schedule college courses and awards, not during the buildup to my first science fair promoting the importance of genetic studies, not even my early graduation from high school some 2 years ago were met with such a push from her. If I had to have a gander I'd likely say it has something to do with her fearing the news of the many deactivated Omnium reawakening and mass producing some form of siege unit variants of Omnics - I say that while this cause for concern, I doubt that a few hundred or even thousand rogue Omnics will prove too difficult to put down by the world's governments. Humanity has come across such issues of arms races and international crises before and emerged uninhibited by any lasting damage in these past few decades, and I doubt a hulking mass of slowly striding steel will be enough to topple such established nations of the modern era.
As for the details of the graduation itself? It was a rather splendid affair if I do say so myself. It certainly far exceeded my expectations when they simply told us to show up in our cap-and-gowns on time and leave everything else to rehearsal. What they didn't tell us was that there would be a buffet (replete with copious amounts of beer cheese dip, to my joy), proper classical music – unlike the technological garble that appears to be growing in popularity worldwide – and accolades for our achievements in the form of job opportunities given to the highest achieving of us by the dozen. At least the lattermost of those surprises quelled the uneasiness I'd felt concerning finding an office or funding that would suffice for what hypothesis I need to test here on out.
I do wonder though where dear Kali Jelani will go from here on out though. She always was quite the outstanding mind here concerning military studies and development of better armor for use in hotter climates – such as her home in Iraq – but now? With so many opportunities presented to her across the world, I only hope she lands a job there; after all, it was the entire reason she came to Ireland for professional training in military science and technology in the first place. No matter what becomes of her though, I do plan on keeping contact. I owe her at least my continued companionship for all the restless nights she spent assisting me in my mandatory historical studies. How the National University of Ireland ever concluded the necessity of war-focused historical courses to a geneticist I will never know, but nonetheless fate seems to have allowed me to take some positive result out of it with Kali at the very least.
Most of the event after rehearsal was rather sociable – established professors and new prospects for my future employment alike all mingling in with one another, but something stuck with me concerning the short speeches accrediting each student for their arduous work and contributions at the University. Upon my being called from the graduating class I was curiously proclaimed a 'prodigy' - where I'd rather simply be called simply sufficiently talented. Being called a prodigy implies the likes of a child conducting Beethoven's 5th Symphony at the age of 8 and creating a timeless masterpiece of their own by the time they've reached maturity. Though I feel as though I'm not far off from that level of skill in the field of genetics and I appreciate the somewhat inflated perception of my present talents among my colleagues, I'd rather simply attain a proper foothold in my profession before the world expects revolution from me. One can only have so much of a grasp on what you'll end up doing at the tender age of 18 after all.
That having been put to paper though, it occurs to me perhaps my outstanding performance and distinction during my time here is exactly why Futura Genetics approached me – so abnormally eager to fund a new geneticist (and allowing me considerable autonomy I may add) whereas I've heard horror stories of some graduates waiting years to simply be refused the job. I shall not look a gift horse in the mouth however, and whatever resources Futura Genetics provides I will readily make use of.
Early Successes;
The more I surge forward in the world of genetics, the more I come to discover my appreciation for mother pushing me to put my thoughts to paper. If she'd simply told me that it'd help me put some keen analysis on my days and discoveries then I'd have been all the more happy to oblige, but her attempts to utilize emotional reasons to convince me of the importance of a journal fell short – though I feel as though that's more an error of my own than hers.
Speaking of discoveries, thanks to Futura Genetics' rather convenient transparency to those who manage to get themselves hired into the organization, I've concluded that their nanotechnology branch far exceeds the capabilities of the National University's. Whereas the University's comparatively archaic nanobots struggled to do more than achieve close-up imaging of genes and DNA within, Futura Genetics' nanobots can reconstitute a cells' makeup. Granted it's a very minute degree of reconstituting – limited to only a single molecule of a single gene – but it's a start! The applications if I were to hone this technology could be limitless! The cure-all for disease, the extraction of damaged or cancer-causing tissues or clotting of the blood vessels, the list goes on.
From what I've gathered thus far regarding the exact mechanisms and limitations of these nanobots, they appear to use an ingenious method of utilizing the atoms of molecules around them as resources for repair, effectively harvesting nearby healthy tissues or other such material for use in their primary objective. At present the greatest limiting factor is that they run out of charge abominably quickly, and that there's not too many of them in production. Why ever Futura Genetics would be stifling the pace of their own research via such a drastic oversight is beyond me, but I for one will be requesting mass production of these soon. Even now, as I pen these words down I gain more insight into the possible applications these nanobots display beyond the realm of biotics.
Where they currently are programmed for utilizing organic tissue around them, it would be an extraordinarily simple affair to alter their code to include ALL matter around them. This would allow the 'Biotic Reconstitution Nanobots' as they're called to self-replace and repair even inorganic targets such as Omnics around them via reconstituting the protons, neutrons, and electrons around them into a metallic or other such alloy form. As fate would have it, I've seen quite some number of poor Omnics nearby our offices that this hypothesis would be perfect for testing with. They stand or sit begging for what little charity they can attain in these anti-Omnic times, most experiencing decay over time due to need of repair but no soul being willing to assist them. I understand that due to the Crisis raging on that Omnics are suspect, but I hardly qualify civilian-grade Omnics to be all that dangerously worthy of contempt, and as such it's my duty to at least attempt to alleviate their suffering – if not simply test my theory on the nanobots.
Kali saw fit to once again warn me of the threat of associating with Omnics after I informed her of my decision to test that hypothesis. I know she means it more out of a place of care for my well-being than anything, but sometimes I wonder if she thinks me a fool regarding the Crisis. Granted, it's not too farfetched a conclusion to have come to given my earlier underestimation of the war-ready Omnics' capabilities, but I stand by my original claim. Although the Omnics continue to make advances and some towns and city blocks have required evacuation as a precautionary measure, I hold out hope the established military forces of the world will put an end to their threat sooner rather than later. How comparatively simple swarms of metal and bullets could overcome the myriad of resources and offensive tools modern nations possess I will never know. A part of me thinks that I should have taken Kali's suggestions of me paying further heed towards that history course to heart. At least then I'd be able to piece together more about how exactly this is all unfurling beyond Kali's oversimplifications to me during our conversations.
I sincerely do hope that Kali's predictions on how an Omnium could spit out dozens of air-ready fighters in a matter of weeks proves to be wrong though. Poor mother and father refuse to take stock in her or my warnings – Galway is hardly a fortified enough position to defend them from an air raid if launched from a European Omnium, and I don't know what I'd do if harm were to befall them.
The night grows late once more, and I must rest. My fears may haunt my dreams some nights but the only way we shall ever discover what tomorrow holds is by venturing forth. The unstoppable flow of time won't stop me from attempting to knock some sense into my parents again tomorrow however. If mother can spend years pestering me about a collection of pages in some dusty journal she found laying around, then she can deal with me trying to maintain a peace of mind in these uncertain times.